Tumgik
#my friend is building a beautiful story and her writing is delightful check it out!!! 🥰🥰🥰
rickety-goose · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
!!! IT'S HERE !!!
you can now read Chop Shop chapter 01 at @losergames !!!!!!!!!
55 notes · View notes
eleanor-bradstreet · 3 months
Note
Hi Eleanor! Do you have any bridgerton fic recommendations? Love your writing!!
Hello Nonny!
I'm so pleased you enjoy my stories, that is sweet of you to say! Thank you! 💙 As for fic recommendations, build your blanket fort, get a beverage and prepare to never emerge because boy do I ever have some for you...
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Do you want to feel like an artist is painting a mural across your heart, swirling colors of intense emotion from lust to anguish to redemption to joy, all of it blending perfectly into a sensation of bone-deep satisfaction? Then you need to check out the works of my dear friend @thebabblingbrookenook Masterlist here.
Brooke has crafted some of the most unique and heartfelt Benedict and Anthony stories out there, mostly modern AU and x Reader, delving deep into character psyches in a variety of breathtaking scenarios. I don't know if I can pick favorites, but don't miss:
If The World Was Ending - an apocalyptic Benedict love story
His First Muse - the most beautiful examination of Violet and Benedict's relationship you'll ever read
Wide Open Spaces - for some sultry Benedict friends-to-lovemaking
The Viscount Who Loved Me Too Much - an ongoing Anthony multichapter romance that is sure to surprise and delight
Tumblr media
Or if your tastes are skewing a bit more...carnal, you must know about the incomparable @fayes-fics. Benedict smut queen and creator of the A&B manbread sandwich, her catalog offers so many steamy encounters with the two eldest Bridgerton brothers that you are at risk of developing bedsores while you enjoy them lefthanded 😉 But lucky for us, she plies her skilled pen to sweet romance and heartwrenching emotions as well. Masterlist here.
There are literally, literally too many jewels to highlight in the treasure trove of Faye's stories, but I highly encourage reading:
Lessons - the A&B throuple series of your dreams
Double Bind - an A&B love triangle series Faye sweetly crafted from my greedy little prompts
Second Son - a beautiful G-rated story of Benedict finding love and self-worth
The Things We Do For Love - Anthony. Benedict. Orgasms. Emotions. Just read it.
I have to cut myself off because I could list these forever...
Tumblr media
Then if you're in the mood for some Viscount served up piping hot, pay a visit to our darling Bridgerton smut auntie @colettebronte My talented friend practices her own kind of alchemy, blending no-holds-barred kinks with fantastical settings and even a dash of history to create stories that are completely unique and entirely incendiary. The steam is....burning, the sweetness is real and the characterizations are always on point.
Her entire collection should be read, Masterlist here, but personal favorites for me include:
Lord Bridgerton's List - Thigh Riding - Just, read the whole List. Trust me.
The Queen and the General 4 - A powerplay threesome with Anthony and Simon. Need I say more?
Rise and Breathe - healing heartbroken regency Anthony through kink? I cannot wait to see where this series goes...
All The Time in The World - an apocalyptic Anthony series that I am salivating for more of!
Tumblr media
I know so many talented fic authors, I could turn this answer into a novel. Search the #fic rec tag in my blog to see them all, but I would be remiss not to highlight these other incredible stories and authors:
@queen-of-the-misfit-toys is a stunning Bridgerton family writer, who knows how to make your jaw hit the floor, either from the delightful filth of her smut or the most heartbreakingly beautiful angst you could imagine. I recommend The End of All Things
@the-other-art-blog Just knocked my absolute socks off by imagining the most perfect origin story for My Cottage here
@fiction-is-life Is taking my prompts for angsty Benedict and delivering with a stunning series starting with Touchstone of Our Character
@urchintoast creates wonderful, lively imagery and has written some heartfelt and adorable Anthony and Benedict stories. I highly recommend Fear
And dear lord, the sweepingly beautiful, searingly sexy, deeply moving Don't You Remember by @captainbucky-yt is my most favorite Benophie retelling
I could type my fingers to stubs if I told you about all the fics I have loved, so please take this as a springboard and go enjoy everything these Bridgerbuddies have to offer 💙
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
46 notes · View notes
t-hornapple · 10 months
Note
Do you have a rec list of fellow indie authors?
my friend @pegglefan69 is writing a really good wizard book that i'm currently beta reading. in the 1970s, an immortal wizard gets trapped in a tree by his evil apprentice and is found later by a goth in 2007. lots of hijinks, lots of gay, and if it sounds like it might be YA because there are wizards + hijinks: NO. absolutely not. you can read the first chapter (for free) on his patreon. he's a really really fabulous writer and i don't say that lightly or just because he's a friend. his narrative voice & skill with creating characters are fantastic.
my friend @katieaki is an incredible artist and author and has spent the last... few years(? a long time) building a really beautiful, queer post-apocalypse wasteland. she's working on a Choose Your Own Wasteland Story which posts live on twitter, and it's interactive, meaning you get to vote for what you think should happen at certain plot points. the current story is Pony Express, which you can read (for free) on her patreon.
Tumblr media
like robin, her narrative voice is great, she has SUCH an incredible cast of characters (who all eventually get drawn) and it is really really sure to delight anyone looking for some fantastic queer literature and worldbuilding. she's written other things too, and i think they were up on a gumroad maybe... but i couldn't find that (katie if you see this can you let us know??)
i'm also beta reading for Ladz (i'm not sure if they're on tumblr) and they have two books up for sale right now on their itch--their latest is Ice Upon A Pier, a Lesbianoir fantasy novella about a prolific contract killer in a secondary world inspired by 70s/80s New York. I haven't read it, and i'm not sure what CW/TWs it might need, but i'd check out their stuff! the book i'm beta reading for them right now is really fun and they've got a lot of huge fun big ideas in the works.
if you want some queer gothic stuff, look into @velvettapeworm. he has a book out called So Sang the Riverman, "a story which tells of the primordial world’s destruction after the spirit of growth, Fervor, makes off with the heart in Decay’s grave." I've read a little bit of it and it's very good, but also "i've only read a little" means i can't give CW/TWs for it. he has some shorts out as well, which you can read here on his website. he's also a really fabulous artist.
50 notes · View notes
duckprintspress · 1 month
Text
February 2024 Created Works Round-Up!
Tumblr media
Duck Prints Press’s monthly “created works round-ups” are our opportunity to spotlight some of the amazing work that people working with us have done that ISN’T linked to their work with Duck Prints Press. We include fanworks, outside publications, and anything else that creators feel like sharing with y’all. Inclusion is voluntary and includes anything that they decided “hey, I want to put this on the created work’s round-up!”
Check out what they’ve shared with us this month…
-
Eliot Rocks the Memory Palace, Chapter Four: Art by EliotQueliot / @eliotqueliot
art || the magicians (tv) || m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || teen & up || creator choses not to use warnings || complete
summary: After dinner, Monster!Eliot takes Quentin sightseeing in New York City by moonlight.
There's a lovely view from the 103rd floor of the Empire State Building.
And the Monster set a nice cheery fire blazing in the bay.
Heights are fun.
other tags: falling, heights, possession
TUMBLR - AO3 - INSTAGRAM
All We Need Is One Good Day (Any Day That You're Alive), Chapter 1 by EliotQueliot / @eliotqueliot
fiction || the magicians (tv) || m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || mature || creator choses not to use warnings || 2,097 || work in progress
summary: A fluffy fic mixing the books by Lev Grossman with the show from SyFy, in which Quentin and Eliot do get to spend that summer together, but build on their immediate friendship to get together from day one of Q's classes.
AO3
Mosaic Haiku, Chapter 10 by EliotQueliot / @eliotqueliot
fiction || the magicians (tv) || m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || general audiences || creator choses not to use warnings || 124 || ongoing series
summary: I'm writing a series of haiku about Eliot and Quentin's lives together at the Mosaic (the timeloop lifetime in which they loved each other for 50 years). Just like the patterns they build there, I'll forever be adding new haiku, but yet the story is also always complete. My hope is to reflect the beauty of all life, just like they did.
AO3
Sailing to Blackspire, Chapter 5 by EliotQueliot / @eliotqueliot
fiction || the magicians (tv) || m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || explicit || creator choses not to use warnings || 11,539 || work in progress
summary: Quentin says he's staying with a Monster for all Eternity.
Eliot says, "Hell, no. Not without me."
In which Eliot and Quentin use their time aboard the Muntjac on the way to Castle Blackspire more wisely.
In this chapter, the friends continue to do their best to find alternate ways to turn magic back on, without Quentin and Eliot getting stuck in Castle Blackspire.
other tags: Canon-typical danger. Also, regarding the fic as a whole, please heed the rating. This is AU, but jumps off from canon at a specific point within 3x13. The characters don't know what I'm trying to fix because for them it hasn't happened (and in this fic, it never will). But Eliot (his POV) clearly knows that Quentin's life is ultimately in danger.
AO3
never a god by ilgaksu / @ilgaksu
fiction || mysterious lotus casebook || m/m, poly (one gender: male) || li lianhua/fang duobing/di feisheng, di feisheng/fang duobing || teen & up || creator choses not to use warnings || 1,077 || ongoing series
summary: The evening shift at the House of Scarlet Delights starts out just like any other.
other tags: Post Canon, Sex Work, Genderfluid Li Lianhua
AO3
bringing a gun to chekhov's house by ilgaksu / @ilgaksu
fiction || dune (2021), dune - frank herbert || f/m || paul atreides/chani kynes || explicit || creator choses not to use warnings || 1,895 || work in progress
summary: Chani sees him first in lectures. This is because he can’t stop staring at her. It’s unsubtle. It’s derivative. It’s the start of every novel written by a white man drowning in his own midlife crisis. Chani is wise to it; to him.
After a while, she realises she’s still looking right back.
other tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Academia, Postcolonialism, Breakup
AO3
On Writing Combat and Sex Scenes by Tris Lawrence / @tryslora
writing craft blog post || original work || no ships || teen & up || no major warnings apply || 1,523 || complete
summary: This post talks about writing sex and combat (and no, I do not mean combative sex). It is primarily SFW.
TUMBLR - PILLOWFORT
4 notes · View notes
terrainofheartfelt · 9 months
Note
Do u have any book and movie recommendations?
sooooo many. you might regret asking.
I love books very very much, just in case you didn't know, so let me fire off at random some of my all time faves with and without blurbs.
poetry: Devotions, Mary Oliver | No Matter the Wreckage, Sarah Kay | Leaves of Grass, Whitman | Post Colonial Love Poem, Natalie Diaz
nonfiction:
My Life in France, Julia Child --- her memoir of moving to France with her husband post WWII and her discovery of cooking and deciding to write her cookbook and it's so charming and so her and it's just a delight
Open Me Carefully, Emily Dickinson --- a chronological collection of letters, poems, and letter-poems Emily sent to her lover sister-in-law Susan Dickinson. it's intimate, playful, kind, passionate, and the editors do a great job of putting it all together. and you read it and just know that you are only skimming the surface of the deep love these two women had for each other i gotta lie down
What I Was Doing While You Were Breeding, Kristin Newman --- funny sexy travel memoir by a TV writer who spent her hiatus months in the aughts summers by traveling solo and having whirlwind romances and also her reconciliation between being the woman who can't be tied down but also wanting to build a life with a partner.
The Real Traviata, Rene Weis --- an opera book because me. a biography about Marie Duplessis, the French woman who inspired Dumas to write La Dame aux Camellias and therefore Verdi's Traviata and THEREFORE Baz Luhrman's Moulin Rouge. she had by the most objective accounts a difficult and short life full of fear and illness and abuse but also full of strength and color and love and I found it really moving.
fiction: aka the novels I am thinking most about right now.
House of the Spirits, Isabel Allende --- an all time favorite. a historical, multigenerational epic that left me staring at the ceiling after finishing it. and cemented Allende's place as one of my fave authors
The Sentence, Louise Erdrich --- it's about ghosts and independent bookstores and indigenous women and community and love and trust and the pandemic. great novel.
Sex and Vanity, Kevin Kwan --- people are always looking for who they should crown the modern Jane Austen, and it's him. it's kevin kwan. this is a modern remix of A Room with a View and it is funny and sexy and sweet and was a delight to read.
Beautiful World, Where Are You, Sally Rooney --- my favorite of hers. I love how the chapters of story are interspersed with emails between the two leads. yes there's romance, but the real center of this story is the friendship between the two women.
On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous, Ocean Vuong --- entirely lives up to the tumblr hype. possibly exceeds the tumblr hype. I told my best friend to read this book. which she did. then scolded me because while she agrees it's beautiful it's also so heartbreaking. truly some of the most beautiful prose I've ever read. I checked it out from the library but i really want a copy of my own to mark up.
Bright Young Women, Jessica Knoll (out Oct. 3rd) --- i got this ARC at the librarian convention. I'm in the middle of it right now but I have to talk it up because it is sooooo good. It's about women who meet because they have the worst possible thing in common: their best friend was murdered by the same serial killer. It hops around between the '70s and the present day, reads like a thriller, and the thesis is really about destroying the myth of the criminal mastermind, a la all those true crime docs about dahmer and bundy. I'm almost halfway through and the murderer is only referred to as "The Defendant." It's about taking the narrative away from him, the universal defendant, and recentering it around the exceptional women whose lives he ended and/or destroyed. Again, please check it out when it comes out this fall. But be forewarned that the subject matter is dark.
as for MOVIES, well, if I tried to make a list like the one above I'd be here all day, so why don't I just list a handful that I consider central to understanding who I am as a person:
Monty Python and the Holy Grail
The Life of Brian
The Blues Brothers
The Princess Diaries 1 AND 2
Little Women (2019)
Juno
The Holiday
Pride and Prejudice (2005)
Star Wars, the OG and prequel trilogies
and, last winter I stumbled across The Four Seasons starring Alan Alda and Carol Burnett, and I thought it was delightful.
4 notes · View notes
theteej · 1 year
Text
Seven Small Thank Yous
So much has gone on this year, but it’s very easy to forget the quotidian, the day to day experiences of building life.  And so to end this reflection on 2022, I wanted to thank six people (and a whole coffee collective) who invited me into day-to-day life, let me share joy and sorrow, hilarity and heartbreak.  I can’t thank you all enough, so I’m going to try to just say how much you meant to me this year in a few short paragraphs.
Debra Bass appeared at the most unexpected point of my life.  As I sat down to do a critical reading of my story for my first Vamp story showcase there she was, the only other Black storyteller.  We immediately did that one nod that Black folk do to each other, the one of mutual recognition, survival, and commiseration. Then we heard each other’s stories, and knew we had to be friends.  After Vamp Debra and I went on long walks, had ridiculous laughs together, and grew into that easy space that only true comrades can have.  Debra has an effortless sense of style that ranges from eclectic bohemian chic to effortless glamour.  Her locs are beautiful, her smile is radiant, and she speaks a mile a minute, her words only punctuated by wandering asides, observations, or critiques of the five words that came before.  Debra was the first real friend I feel I made after covid here in San Diego; she became my immediate ridiculous Black travel companion, because we’d both find that the other one was game for just about anything knowing we had company.  So we went to Jewish sabbath suppers, meandering art crawls, museum galas, and seasonal Black group exercise events.  We push each other to try new things—write new stories, try new art practices, examine unseen parts of ourselves.  I am also deeply delighted that she is the one who frequently wants to drive on our adventures; and I compensate by being the person that makes choices on anything from food or drink or destinations, as Debra is not super keen on making any decision that hasn’t been consulted for hours in advance like the quintessential Virgo she is.  Debra is not only brilliant, she makes me feel like I can meet any adventure head-on, as I have a friend and confidante.
Nick Dutton is an absurd human with excellent eyebrows.  Beyond that, he was my one of my students when I taught tenth grade Honors World History in 2007.  Fifteen years later, the two of us are peers; Nick is in his early thirties and trying to navigate what life means back here in San Diego, and I continuously reject the idea that I am his “Black Mr. Feeny” offering him continued life advice.  What started as a hilarious and occasional meet up has turned into a friendship that I genuinely appreciate.  Nick is hilarious and conventionally attractive in a slightly frat bro way, but he’s also a dedicated athlete who runs far more marathons than any human should, and manages to pull off some particularly devastating and clever comebacks and snark.  Nick and I have managed to meet monthly for the last year and a half, but 2022 became a year in which I cherished our get togethers.  We’d always try to find a different vegan place in San Diego, and I have grown to genuinely appreciate Nick’s honesty and thoughtfulness, and he puts up with my occasional teasing and snide rejoinders.  It’s a rare gift to watch someone grow from student to peer to friend, but my life is infinitely better for the silliness and joy Nick brings every time we meet over food without animal products and conversations with good cheer.
Arianna Haut may be one of the best things to ever have come out of winning on Jeopardy aside from meeting Alex Trebek and…you know, the cash.  Arianna and I met through the wider Jeopardy contestant community in 2021, but 2022 was where our friendship really came to shine.  She lives in L.A., and I’m often able to plan hangouts with her when I’m also up visiting my family.  More importantly, she’s someone I check in with daily, exchanging memes, anxieties, and general ridiculosity.  Having a friend who grounds you while also being utterly nonsensical themselves is such a gift, and I don’t know how to express enough gratitude for who Arianna is and what she does.  She’s a brilliant tutor and organizer, an amazing community member, and generous spirit. Some of my best moments with her have been laughing uproariously in the Museum of Jurassic Technology, eating the best tacos ever, wandering the gardens of the Huntington, or exchanging roughly eight million voice notes on facebook messenger.  She, more than anyone else, reminds me that I’m a tightly compressed ball of anxiety in a human meat suit---and that is OKAY.  There’s a depth and a kindness that I cannot fully encapsulate when I think about her and I’m endlessly grateful that she’s someone I can check in with and process and make sense of my life and vice versa.
Paul Binnie is an artist of terrifying skill, a Scotsman with a genuine mischievous charm, and a dear friend of several years.  But in 2022, he became a close and wonderful compatriot.  He joined me on long walks around town, we talked about anxieties, and we held forth on so many different topics each more fun than the last.  Paul has forced me to look at my body in new and incredible ways as he uses his keen eye to draw models, myself included.  He’s also done the impressive work of creating a community of drawing afficionados.  I look forward most weekends to attending his queer drawing group, and I’m incredibly grateful for the friendships I’m making among the people assembled there.  Paul does more than just sketch—he also draws people into community, and I’m very grateful to have been able to see him as part of my wider family in San Diego.
Mark Kurai has been my closest friend in San Diego since both moved back in 2018, and this past year was no exception.  We’ve worked together on art projects, survived the worst of lockdowns as friends and confidantes, but more than anything, Mark is simply there. There is an incredible freedom in knowing that you have a friend nearby that you can rely on to process shit, to vent, to go for walks or coffee, or just to exist with.  Mark is a quintessential introvert, and I could not be any further from such a thing, but he does the considerably difficult job of reminding me to be quiet sometimes, to sit and think, and to be okay with mess and discomfort.  In turn, Mark lets me cajole him or push on occasion, and I am so much more balanced for being around his creativity, his patience, and his discerning eye for dialogue or photographs.  The world is a better place with a comrade and friend like him, and I’m constantly challenged by the way he methodically thinks through and processes the world around him.  I can’t think of the year without picnics or cocktails or phone calls or muddling through life—his friendship is the most quotidian and constant and I’m better for it.
I’ve known Robert Valiente-Neighbours now for nearly two decades; hell, I was his best man in 2008 at his wedding.  We both left San Diego after that, but found ourselves back a few years ago, and our friendship continued with the strength unchanged.  Robert is deeply contemplative—there’s a reason he’s a Quaker after all—but it’s more than that; he brings a quiet and meditative strength to everything he does, from his gorgeous and evocative painting and sketching and collage, to his equally dedicated pursuit of fitness.  This year Robert officially got his license as a personal trainer and with his background in nutrition, and after he launched his business, became a formal consultant for me in my strange and continued relationship with my body and strength.  Robert is aggressively disinterested in self-loathing or body transformations so en vogue in “fitness journeys.”  He emphasizes mobility and strength, and joy.  His dark eyes furrow under his brows often as he looks at me with a soft smile and says simply, “so…what do you want to be able to do with this?” Robert challenges me to think about capacity, about joy, about hope in my body. With Robert, discipline is not a product of denial or abnegation; rather, it’s an invitation to think about new ways or relating to yourself and the world around you. I think freely with him about what I want to do when I eat or move, and why I’m doing it.  I don’t think about hating or changing myself, but instead, about inviting in joy.  Likewise, meeting with him as a dear friend is one of the deepest joys I’ve experienced. Robert asks piercing questions, but also asks the same of himself.  But more than that, Robert is the definition of praxis—when one’s ideals come into practical engagement.  Whether it’s working out or prayer, eating or movies, I’m encouraged to think about what every day looks like simply with my friend, and how to be more meaningful in it all.  It’s a gift and a joy.
It’s not every day you get adopted by an entire fucking coffee shop, but Mystic Mocha is not a regular café.  Helmed by the hilarious and kind Izzy—who bears more than a passing resemblance to an everyday Jason Mamoa, hence the ‘Jason Ma-Mocha’ moniker we give him—the crew at my local café are the best and kindest people. Tuuli brings sass and wit sharper than her brilliant catseye wings. Adrian, hilarious and wildly observant, is clearly a background character on the queer pirate comedy Our Flag Means Death.  Kendall’s wide-eyed kindness belies a brilliant mind. Alyssa offers nothing but joy and chaos in equal measure and invites us to celebrate with her.  Miko is a devastatingly talented artist and cook who radiates a constant cool that you can’t help but want to be around.  Each of these amazing people invited me into daily community with coffee and chats, smiles and vegan breakfast burritos.  I wrote them a postcard from Fiji, specifically because I missed them so much, and wore a long-sleeve with the café on it when I wandered Aotearoa’s winter streets.  They came to one of my story telling events with Vamp in October. They invited me to parties and get togethers, and insisted that I was part of their little community, and I cannot say enough how much it meant to me to be seen by some of the coolest people I know.  I still think how fucking lucky I am to have met people who are not only super cool in a daily café, but also want to hangout after work, and I can’t help but smile at feeling like I’m building a community with people I genuinely think are incredible.
1 note · View note
pleasantanathema · 3 years
Text
Pleasant’s Writer Recs!
I’ve gotten a few asks in my inbox over the past few weeks asking me for writer recs, so I thought the best way to do this was to compile a list of my fav authors on tumblr and rec my favorite fic of theirs! A lot of these amazing authors are moots—I’m very lucky to call many of them close friends. This list could be much longer, and I could go on for days about every single author, but I’ll try to keep it brief. Most all of these authors, like myself, write 18+ only content. Hopefully this can be a useful tool for authors and readers alike looking for amazing fanfic 💕
@bakatenshii | Angel is so phenomenal with her writing that I almost can’t put her style and amazing ability into words (but I’ll try). Angel’s work is beautiful, masterful, full of poetry, elegance, and smut that will all leave you gasping. Fav Fic: Blitz [Ushijima x Reader]
@blahkugo | Sunnt, Thunnth, Sunny, whatever you call her, she is brilliant. No one writes Tsukishima quite like she does. She is beyond creative and her writing style flows like the sexiest water, it’ll make you thirsty and quench your aches. Fav Fic: Tower [Tsukishima x Reader]
@deathcab4daddy | Tay is all about details, details, details. She fills in every gap and paints gorgeous, sexy pictures and situations for the reader to feel immersed in. Fav Fic: Cerulean Blue [Akaashi x Reader]
@dymphnasprose | Dymphna is all about fun, sex, and slowly filling out her holy bible of smut. She’s amazing at creating realistic sub/dom relationships and her smut almost always comes with a healthy dose of build-up. Fav Fic: Green Scrunchies [Ukai x Reader]
@enjifuckersupreme | Ketsl reigns supreme over pure, unadulterated porn. They are phenomenal at making me the reader wet, and every fic is crafted with so much care. Enji fuckers should bow down at their feet, no one loves and writes Enji like Ketsl. Fav Fic: Attitude Adjustment [Enji x Reader]
@hisoknen | Raph is one of the first dark blogs I ever started reading, and she never, ever disappoints. She writes pieces that chill you to the bone, but warms your sex- her writing is casual, smooth, and realistic, always giving you everything you need, but leaving you wanting a little more. Fav Fic: Sleeping Beauty [Dabi x Reader]
@hoe-doroki | Ana is one of the sweetest writers I know. Every time I talk to her, she’s working on comfort requests or beta-reading for other people. Her writing is such a pleasure to read, as you can tell she pours love and consideration into every fic for her readers. Fav Fic: Can’t Find My Breath [Bakugou x Reader]
@joyousandverywarlike | Zo...holy fucking shit. Zo is a writer who consistently blows me out of the water with her skill. This woman is a novelist blessing us with juicy, rich smut and love stories like no one else can. She is incredibly poetic and her writing is an absolute joy to read; she also writes amazing fics for black readers and has an amazing voice that she uses for asmr audios! Fav Fic: How We Met [Ushijima x Reader]
@lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten | Leah is an author who takes immense care with her work. She works incredibly hard to craft sexy, healthy bdsm fics for bnha. She is a great blog to go to for bdsm education, and she’s also got a side blog @lemonlordleah-extra-sour for all you extra naughty readers who like the darker side of fanfic. You should also check out her Patreon! Fav Fic: Between the Evergreen [Aizawa x Reader]
@linestrider | Nyki’s work is like smooth water, it’s calming, refreshing, but she also adds a nice, chill bite to it as well with her darker style. Nyki puts such an impressive amount of care into her work; a word is never out of place, every sentence has meaning, every paragraph gives you something new. It was very hard to choose just one fic to recommend. Fav Fic: What’s Said is Said [Hawks x Reader]
@lookslikeleese | Leese is one of the most fun writers on Tumblr, and by that I mean you just have a shitload of fun reading her fics. They are like little, sexy treats to take in right before bed and feel a little more full than you were before. She is also the Cucking Queen. Fav Fic: Cola [Enji x Reader] 
@messwriting | Lee is also another fun writer! Her writing is exhilarating to read, and you’d never guess she’s a sexy Brazilian whose second language is English based on how well she writes. She’s a little sex goddess who will give you everything you want and more in every fic. Fav Fic: What We Could’ve Been [Tsukishima x Reader]
@mindninjax | Marquie is a full on sweetie with a sexy side. She. Is. So. Creative. Every fic of hers is so unique and her masterlist is a whole reading experience. She writes Bakugou Katsuki so damn well, she’s a master at characterization, even in au’s. She also writes beautiful fics for black readers. Fav Fic: Bound to You [Bakugou x Reader]
@nekokoafanfictions | I first found Ai on Ao3, and then was fortunate enough to come across their blog here on Tumblr! I’ve said this before in previous rec lists, and I’ll say it again, I still read their fics some nights to fall asleep to, they are just that good, every fic will have you coming back at some point to read it again. Fav Fic: City Lights [Enji x Reader]
@present-mel | The. Queen. Of. Dialogue. Mel is a master at making her fanfic feel real, gritty, sexy, and beautiful all at the same time. This woman pours her heart and soul into fanfic, especially into her Erwin series Fragments of Memories. I was so captivated by her work that I just had to become her friend, her work is enchanting and thrilling. Fav Fic: Until the Fire Played [Enji x Reader]
@rat-suki | Annie makes me horny. Like, real horny. Her smut is fantastic and are often little thrill rides within themselves. Fuck rollercoasters, just go to Annie’s masterlist to find a joy ride. Fav Fic: Hell Fire [Enji x Reader]
@rivendell101 | I’m such a big fan of Alisha, that I sent her a request months ago before we even became friends. This author knows how to craft a story, her work is very meticulous with details and her plots are always so spot on. Fav Fic: Sweet Thing [Natsuo x Reader]
@smutbardpeach | Smutbard is the most accurate title for Peach, as her fics read like poetry and song, filled with beautiful language, imagery, and allusions to the brim. If you’re ever looking for something romantic, sensual, delightful, and just overall magnificent to read, this is the blog to go to. Peach’s work is like reading poetry and classics right off the shelf. Fav Fic: Truth in Wine [Hizashi x Reader]
@spicyness | Are you thirsty? Do you like fun, sexy headcanons? Ness is the author for you. Ness is so, so fun and sweet, and is active with her followers and is always posting something new and creative for us to nibble at. Her blog is full of fun thirsts and she’s always a joy to see pop-up on my dash. Fav Fic: Pride [Bakugou x Reader]
@sugardaddykenma | Lin has the most amazing brain. I wish I could just...see and understand how she thinks. Her blog is full to the brim with hilarious, iconic, and down right fucking true headcanons for haikyuu characters. Many nights I have stayed up laughing my ass off and saying “why is that so true?” while reading through her astonishingly creative work. Fav Fic: Haikyuu on Drugs
@thewheezingwyvern | Wyv is a writer who gets straight to the point; her words are poignant, meaningful, and always paint a very clear picture. She is a Shinsou and Aizawa lover/fucker all the way to her core, and she’s amazing at bringing those characters to life in her work. Fav Fic: Salt Lines [Aizawa & Shinsou x Reader]
@thisisthehardestthing | Claudia is one of the most talented writers I have ever met. Period. She has a vocabulary, a depth, an ability to craft the most intense, alluring, and magnificent fanfic you’ve ever read. Most of her work doesn’t even seem like fanfic, it reads like love letters stuffed into the pages of a book that stand the test of time with her marvelous writing abilities. She always awes me, as every single fic is unique and powerful it its own way. Fav Fic: Tocka [Tanaka x Reader]
@tomurasprincess | The Queen of Darkness herself, Mari is amazing at fulfilling all of your dark desires. I’ve never met anyone else who is as active as she is with her followers, as she’s constantly pushing herself to answer requests and give people exactly what they want to see. She has such an expansive masterlist, any dark fic lover can find something worthwhile from her! She’s almost made a Shigaraki fucker out of me, almost. Fav Fic: Wraith’s Touch [Shigaraki x Reader]
@undermattsun | Miki taught me what a skate rat is. Do I understand it yet? Not really, but I fucking like it. Miki is so much fun and is always active with her followers, giving out awesome thirsts, visuals, and headcanons for her fav haikyuu characters. Fav Fic: Flavor of the Month [Matsukawa x Reader]
@vixen-scribbles | Vixen is someone who cares about everyone around her, and her blog reflects that. Amongst all her amazing writing, you’ll always find her recommending her friends and supporting other writers. Her writing is fucking sexy, she knows her way around the bedroom when it comes to fics, and she’s got a lengthy masterlist to fawn over. Fav Fic: Take All of Me [Ushijima x Reader]
@whats-her-quirk | Truly, the best has been saved for last. June’s work is the heart and soul of classic, fucking amazing fanfic. I can’t even explain how much I love her fics, like they will put the biggest smile on your face and have your thighs rubbing together in anticipation. June is writing her fantasies and having fun, and we are privileged to enjoy the ride with her. She knocked kinktober out of the fucking park, with each fic being a new, fresh delight. Fav Fic: Once in a Blue Moon [Karasuno x Reader Gangbang]
This list could honestly be twice as long, and perhaps in the future I’ll make a companion to it as I meet new authors and read more amazing fanfic. Please give all these authors a follow or at least check out their blogs. 💖
3K notes · View notes
meg-moira · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
A short story based on this writing prompt.
Follow my Patreon for more writing!
.
.
The woman sloshed from the water, waves frothing about her knees as if the cold ocean was straining to keep her. Once on land, her soft toes sunk into wet sand as her legs wobbled with disuse. Lush black hair hung over her shoulders and back in sodden, twisting ringlets, and she crossed her arms against the cold as she stumbled toward a rocky outcropping in the distance. Goosebumps rose along dark skin as her eyes, black as the sea-depths, searched the beach for movement.
Save for the scuttling of a gray crab, all was still.
Naia was the name she had chosen, and when she emerged from the rocks, Naia wore a thick shawl, cotton breeches, and boots which made her toes feel warm but terribly constricted. Standing on the sand, she brushed her fingers along the fabric, hands tracing down the sides of her legs. With an eager, if not somewhat ungainly skip, she set out toward the white bluffs which stretched above the beach - and the red-roofed buildings which piled atop them.
In the city’s streets, Naia was treated to a series of friendly nods. She’d visited the city a handful of times over the past year, and it seemed that at least a few of the residents recognized her. The thought warmed her, and Naia made the rest of the journey to the tea shop with a delighted spring in her admittedly, still wobbly steps.
She was jittery with an energy which was both excited and nervous, for she had made a friend. A human friend. Her friend’s name was Saoirse, and Naia had met her after unknowingly venturing into town on a market day. Saoirse was selling bracelets made of pretty ocean polished stones, and though Naia had no money at the time, she’d stopped to admire the jewelry all the same. Touched by Naia’s admiration of her work, Saoirse slipped a bracelet over Naia’s hand, and the only payment she asked for was to meet for tea a month from that day.
And now, a month later, Naia stood at the tea shop entrance, stone bracelet cool against her wrist.
Saoirse sat at a round wooden table in a tucked-away corner, beneath a window trimmed in emerald curtains. Her pale hands were folded together atop the table, and chestnut brown hair, cropped short, curled about her ears. She had a narrow face, a strong, high bridged nose, and large dark eyes. As soon as Naia stepped into the shop, wooden floorboards creaking beneath her, those large eyes flickered up. Instantly, Saoirse was smiling, the kind which filled her face, dimpling her cheeks.
When Naia sat, it took her a moment to figure out how to fold her legs comfortably between the chair and table. Fortunately, Saoirse seemed not to notice, and when Saoirse reached across the table, squeezing Naia’s hands, Naia squeezed back. She was determined to avoid scaring her new friend away with the truth - that it was a mermaid who’d joined her for tea.
“It’s good to see you, friend,” Saoirse said, smiling brightly.
“And you,” Naia replied.
“I hope you don’t mind - I ordered tea for us both.”
“I don’t mind.”
Saoirse’s smile widened, and up close, Naia noticed that the teeth at the corners of her mouth looked surprisingly sharp. If humans hunted for fish in the sea like merfolk, Saoirse’s sharp teeth would be particularly useful, Naia thought - before forcing it out of her mind. She was meant to be making human conversation, not discussing the best methods for catching fish in one’s mouth.
Naia cleared her throat. She’d practiced this. Granted, the practice had been with a particularly talkative gannet. But practice was still practice, and Naia was determined to make a good, very human, impression.
“So,” Naia said, folding her hands in a mimicry of Saoirse’s posture. “Is selling jewelry your means of collecting coins?”
Saoirse’s chin dipped in a hurried nod. “Oh yes. I collect many beautiful coins from my jewelry sales.”
“Wow,” Naia said, a little breathlessly, as she imagined what it would be like to hold so many pretty, gleaming coins in her hands.
“What of you?” Saoirse asked.
“Oh, I-” Naia stammered. “I - um, find my coins. In the sand.” There really was no way to explain that she collected the stray coins which dropped like fallen stars to the sea floor.
“The sand,” Saoirse breathed, black eyes growing wide. “How marvelous.”
Naia grinned, pleased that her answer had been satisfactory. Breathing easier, she relaxed back into her chair.
A young man delivered their tea. He carried a teapot and two earthen mugs. As he bent over the table, nimble fingers deposited the teapot and then the two mugs before them. He had long black hair that fell over his shoulder in a long braid and eyes as bright as a kelp forest in shallow water. Dipping his head, he said, “Please enjoy,” before hurrying away.
Naia stared for a moment at the pot in silent consideration, and when she looked up, saw Saoirse doing the same. However, when Saoirse saw Naia looking, she straightened up, grabbing for the teapot. Pulling it in front of her, she plucked the lid from the top and peered down at the liquid inside. Her nostrils flared as she eyed it critically.
“Is it...okay?”
Saoirse paused before nodding. “Yes. You’ve got to check beforehand to be sure, though.”
Naia nodded as if this made perfect sense. In truth, she knew little of tea, and had yet to consume any in her visits to land.
Wordlessly, Saoirse plucked a spoon from a tray at the table and set about scooping sodden leaves into each of the mugs. Tilting her head, Naia watched the process, utterly fascinated. She had always assumed tea referred to the liquid - but clearly it was meant to describe these leaves once they were soaked in water.
When Saoirse slid her a mug, Naia grabbed a spoon of her own. Before eating however, Naia paused. She recalled a ritual she’d observed humans practicing at meals. Meeting Saoirse’s eyes, she dipped her head down and said, “I pray to you my thanks for this meal.”
Saoirse blinked, and then she was nodding. Dipping her head, she repeated Naia’s words, “I pray to you my thanks for this meal.”
And then, lifting their spoons, they scooped the wet leaves into their mouths.
The taste was...bitter. But no more bitter than a bite of an urchin not yet matured. Naia turned the leaf over in her mouth before grinding it between her teeth and swallowing.
“A delicacy,” Naia said, licking her lips.
“Yes,” Saoirse replied, poking at the other leaves in her cup.
Naia watched as she spooned another glob of leaves into her mouth. As she leaned forward over the cup, Naia noticed, for the first time, the thick pelt that wrapped around her shoulders. It was odd. The pelt was dark - almost oily in appearance, and it certainly should have been one of the first things she noticed - but until now, Naia’s eyes had slid right over it. It was pretty, she reflected, admiring the sheen.
“I like your shawl.”
When Saoirse stiffened, Naia froze, wracking her brain to determine the human social norm she had violated. Perhaps Saoirse thought she wanted it? Because that was what had happened with the bracelet, wasn’t it? But it was one thing to give away a trinket and quite another to give away the pelt which kept you warm.
“I do not want it,” Naia hurried to explain. “Your bracelet was gift enough for me.”
Saoirse’s tight expression relaxed, and she lifted a hand, running her fingers along the pelt. “It is special to me.”
“It is lovely.”
“Thank you,” the corners of Saoirse’s eyes crinkled with her smile.
When the waiter returned, he glanced a little oddly at the teapot and mugs. When he asked them if the tea was satisfactory, both women assured him it was. Before returning to the back, he turned a dark, contemplative look upon them both.
Both Naia and Saoirse watched him go.
“Perhaps I should have given him shinier coins,” Saoirse mused in a thoughtful whisper.
Naia swallowed, nodding, for that must have been what offended him. “We humans love our shiny things.”
“That we do,” Saoirse agreed, and promptly dug a gleaming coin from the pouch at her waist. Holding it triumphantly up, she set it on the table with a click. “I’m sure this will please him.”
“If it doesn’t, he’s a fool,” Naia said a little haughtily. “It’s very shiny.”
Both women gazed a little wistfully at the coin.
“So,” Saoirse said at last. “Tell me more about yourself. What do you like to do?”
Naia didn’t hesitate with this answer. It was one she had prepared. “I walk. Everywhere. All of the time. Walking. It burns my muscles most pleasantly.”
“Walking is wonderful, isn’t it?” Saoirse agreed, an excited flush crossing her pale cheeks. “Not always convenient. But it’s always an adventure.”
Naia nodded in eager agreement. She was overjoyed to have so much in common with this human.
“Perhaps we can walk after our tea,” Naia ventured. “Where the cliffs overlook the sea.”
Before Saoirse could answer, the waiter returned. His hands slammed the table, and Naia and Saoirse both jumped in their seats as the teapot and cups rattled on the shaking wood. Saoirse’s lips curled back, and her white teeth gleamed. From Naia’s mouth, there escaped a hiss.
Gone was the waiter’s easy cordiality. His fine-boned cheeks were pale, and those green eyes were sharp as the broken glass which collected beneath the shipyard waters. His elegant fingers curled around the edges of the table as he glared.
“I know,” he said, and his voice was trembling. Whether with rage or fear, Naia couldn’t be sure.
Naia’s heart was a rock in her chest. Mouth dry, she could only stare as her toes curled helplessly in her boots.
It was Saoirse who spoke. “Know what?” she snapped.
“You can stop hiding. I know what you are.”
Naia heaved a shuddering breath. Swallowing, she looked across the table. Saoirse, her gaze filled with inexplicable terror, stared back.
“I don’t understand why you fae hunters won’t just leave me alone.” The waiter’s voice hitched, and he sounded near to tears.
Naia’s head whipped around so fast that her neck gave a twinge. “What?”
At once, the waiter's rage fled, melting instead into an exhausted sort of grief. Green eyes welling with bright, inhuman tears, he bitterly shook his head. “I saw that you refused the tea. Not a drop of it was drunk! It’s a myth you know. I can’t bespell folk with just any food or drink.”
“Oh,” Naia said, drawing a wondering breath. “You’re meant to drink it.”
“Yes of course you drink-” the waiter’s mouth snapped closed. “Wait what?”
“What?” Saoirse exclaimed, looking at Naia.
“Wait...” Naia said looking back at Saoirse, taking in her dark eyes and the pelt around her shoulders.
“What?!” the waiter said, throwing his hands up as he looked between them.
“You’re not human,” Naia and Saoirse said in unison.
For a long moment, all three were silent.
And then Saoirse was laughing, and it was a sharp, barking sound.
Naia pressed a hand over her mouth as she looked at Saoirse. “You’re a selkie,” she said between her fingers.
“Well of course I am. And you’re merfolk,” Saoirse said, shaking her head. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”
“Yes well you’re both responsible for the couple hundred years that stress probably took from my life,” the waiter said, tossing his braid over his shoulder and crossing his arms against his chest.
“Is leaf water good?” Naia asked, looking at him doubtfully.
“Of course it is,” the waiter said with a sigh and pulled up a chair. “Here, let me pour it.”
Steam rose from the mugs, and Naia watched as it softened Saoirse’s sharp features. “I thought you were my first human friend,” Naia admitted.
Saoirse bit her lip, and Naia again glimpsed those sharp teeth. “Maybe instead I’ll be your first Selkie friend?”
Wrapping her fingers around the hot mug, Naia smiled. “I think I’d like that.”
“And we can still take that walk. I do so like moving these legs,” Saoirse said. Gaze sliding to her right, she studied the waiter. “Would you like to join us, faerie?”
“It’s Adam,” he said with a sniff. “And yes, alright.”
“I’ll give you a bracelet to make up for scaring you,” Saoirse said.
“And I will not eat you should you slip and fall into my waters,” Naia generously offered.
“...thanks.”
Naia grinned. “You’re welcome.”
Tea was good, as it turned out. And once the teapot was empty, the mermaid, selkie, and faerie left the shop to walk together.
If any should have turned their gaze toward the ocean that day, they would have observed three windswept silhouettes trailing along the pale bluffs. And should the watcher have persisted in watching, they would have seen the figures’ outlines shifting, becoming something beautiful and other when faced with the vast blue of sky and sea.
463 notes · View notes
babytaes · 3 years
Text
steal a kiss
Tumblr media
summary: what is it like to be a staff member under Pledis, well y/n knows well, the in’s and out of living as a stylist for Seventeen. 
pairing: mingyu x female reader
genre: light smut (like its barely there), fluff
warnings: thigh-riding.......umm
a/n: I wanted to give a short one-shot to my carats and any other peeps out there in appreciation of reaching 300 followers. Thank you to everyone who has followed me on this writing adventure; I truly appreciate it and hope you will stick with me to the end. Enjoy and always much love from babytaes! :)
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Being a member of the team seventeen staff has its privileges, which come in handy on a regular basis. Breakfast, lunches, and dinners are all provided for free. All provided on the company card.
Days where you had to wake up at the butt crack of dawn to prepare clothing for the boys, yeah it was a delight.
Despite the fact that every job has its own set of advantages and disadvantages, you were fortunate enough to get hired by S.Coups (Pledis) Entertainment.
You had your share of late nights and early mornings, but the final result of each member always made you proud of the work you and your coworkers put in.
Today was a photo shoot day, which happened to fall during promotion season, which was already stressful enough. You were thrilled to celebrate Jihoon's success when he released another banger.
You picked up some drinks on your way to work for the members who were first in line for their individual shot. Seungkwan, Mingyu, Jeonghan, and Jihoon were on the agenda.
Despite the fact that it was supposed to be an early-bird day, you arrived early, ready to take on the world.
“Hey Y/N, early morning isn’t it.” As she walked past you, she waved and embraced you in a hug.
“It is, and I'm starting to believe they purposefully put us on these shifts. It's always photo sessions for us,” you said as you strolled over to the clothing rack, your eyes glittering at the several items of clothing.
“For real, it's fine once it gets rolling, but we still need a break.”
“Break what is that foreign word?” you ask as you turn around.
“You're a mess; hurry up and start organizing so we can look like we're doing our job.”
You grinned as you shook your head and turned around. Jihyo was a member of the staff who you met when you first started working for Pledis.
It's a long story, but you were friends with a few members during their debut and essentially grew up with them, so when you went to work for them, you took her under your wing. She’s basically your apprentice.
Anyway, back to Pledis and your great life. The joys of being overworked.
---
 As time passed, more individuals and crew began to arrive at the location, prepping for the shot. You had a few more minutes before things started, so you walked to the back to find something to eat.
Courtesy of the company’s card . ;) 
As you moved back to the snack table, you heard voices and looked up from your phone to see the infamous boys walking in. When you see him, you instantly smile and slowly come to a halt, allowing them to pass.
As they hurried quickly inside the dressing room, the boys said their flurry of hellos to you. One stood there for a long time, looking around before slipping his arm around your waist.
“Good morning, love,” I wasn't expecting to meet you this early in the morning, but I'm glad I arrived first.” As he lingered above your lips, teasing you, his face drew in closer to yours.
As you carefully peel him off of you, your cheeks begin to burn up.
“There’s people around gyu”
“That didn’t stop me”
“In all seriousness, I'm glad to see you,” you said with a chuckle. These schedules are becoming increasingly hectic, and I hardly have time to see you.”
Mingyu took another look around before he went down to peck your lips, astonished and taken aback, you giggled as you walked away.
“Let’s get to work young man”
“Yes, ma'am,” He walked away toward the shoot, raising a salute and sharply shaking his head.
Only Jihoon and Seungkwan were clothed in their first outfit when you entered the dressing room.
“Are my eyes failing me or do I see Jeonghan not dressed?” you exclaim at the astonished males in front of you, furrowing your brows.
He looked up from his phone, leaped to his feet, and dashed over to the racks, grabbed his name badge while apologizing.
You didn't have any kind of motherly power over them, no way. However, if any of them were to be late for any reason, you wouldn't mind giving them a gentle push to get them going.
Hehe. 
You pushed Mingyu to his sector and instructed him to be ready in ten minutes, “apparently the first unit is Jihoon and Seungkwan.”
They all shook their heads when they realized what you were saying. Taking one last look at him you sighed and returned to the garment rack, where you gathered extra outfits for them.
It didn’t take long for the boys to be done with their photo shoot, they did have great genes which impacted the photo shoot time.
You and your team do a fantastic job styling them, if I do say so myself. Now came the worst part: packing everything back into suitcases and bags and returning them to their original locations.
As you prepare the van, you speak incoherently as you place all of the respected garments and accessories in their proper spots.
You waved farewell the first time as they drove away. Being that type of person you wanted to be sure everything was in order, so you went back in and did a quick check.
Mr. Kim, the troublesome one, greeted you as you made your way to the dressing room. You cough as you stand outside the door frame, arms folded.
“Ahh- what the hell.” He looked around and became instantly calm.
“Now, why are you still dressed like that?” As he carefully made his approach to you, he kissed your arms as you said, "I already packed away the stuff."
“You worry too much love.” He kisses your desired lips as he draws you closer to him, silencing your cries. As you moan into him, you melt under his touch.
“Gyu... mmmh, we have to go,”  As he moves you closer to the couch, Mingyu's gaze remains fixed on you.
You give into his lustful need with another sigh, despite the fact that you were thinking the same thing.
“Y/N? He retorted
“Yes Mingyu?”
As he pressed kisses on your neck, he drew you down onto his lap. Moving to the side, you gave him more access while you moaned under his touch.
“I love you,” he says with a smile as you travel slowly across his thigh, a performance you never got tired of. As you shuddered, he observed you throwing your head back.
He whispers, "Such a good girl y/n," and caresses your jawline with butterfly kisses. "Are you near, baby?" he inquires, his gaze fixed on yours.
As you pick up the speed, the friction on his thigh becomes more intense. As your breath returns to normal, you slump forward on his chest.
“See, that wasn't so bad,” he says as you leap up from his thigh and hit his chest.
“Babeeee, these are not your clothes. As you cross your arms, he begins to giggle, “Now I have to dry clean them.”
“Let’s go, I still have a lot of work to do.”
As you walk out the door, he takes your hand in his and entwines it with kisses.
“You still love me,” he says, shoving his nose in your face as you enter one of the staff cars. As you locked the door behind him, you could almost hear him pouting.
“Mmmh, you're being mean.” You grinned as you rolled your eyes at him and said to the driver, "Let's go."
“I could never be mean to you gyu, buttt we did get a stain on your pants which will be a hell of a pain to get off.” He draws you closer to him, laughing, and lets you rest your head on his shoulder as he kisses you.
“Hey, you got it; the amount of stains we both accumulated on clothes is overwhelming, but you've done it before, so you can do it again.”
“You should be cleaning it with the amount of cum you spill,” you say.
“I mean, I did suggest cleaning it up, but you didn't want that.”
“I'm not going to clean it with my tongue, and you do realize these pants aren't yours.”
You and him squabble all the way back to the corporate building, which is the beauty of being a stylist. Even though it was all in good fun, you missed this. The random conversations you and him would have.
It filled your heart with excitement, but it was cut short when you thanked the driver and exited the vehicle.
“You sure you can’t stay with me?” As he gazed at you, his eyes became sorrowful. You kissed his lips as you shouted out to the driver, falling in love with this enormous puppy once more.
“Get him home safely Mr. Lee” he turned around and shook his head at you.
“Bye, love; I'll see you after work.” As he spoke in your ear, he took your hand and pulled you in for a kiss.
“Let’s continue what we started.” Before closing the door, he winked at you.
As I previously stated, being on the seventeen staff has its advantages, and this was one of them.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
➳ Navigate to the Maze
217 notes · View notes
zarzava · 2 years
Text
april reads!
books:
a memory called empire - arkady martine
if you’re not a particularly sci-fi person (like me) and if you (like me) enjoy speculative worldbuilding anchored in cultural elements moreso than science, this is THEE book for you. the universe builds on top of conversations on inter-cultural differences, the sapir-whorf hypothesis and what seems like the author’s own tenure as byzantine history scholar--very much a world defined by empire, from center to periphery. for example: within the first pages the narrator observes that in the imperial language, the words for ‘imperial capital’ and ‘the world’ are one and the same.  it also contains A BEAUTIFUL F/F QUEER ROMANCE, and it’s just a delightfully queer sci-fi book all round
my brilliant friend - elena ferrante
in a direct continuation of the ‘gay girls navigating the political complexities of their world’ genre, i was recommended elena ferrante’s neopolitan quartet about the friendship between two italian girls, lenu and lila. while not a queer text per se, it is full of obsession, psychosexual turmoil, hate-to-love vacillations between two girls growing up in mid-century naples where class structure rests on the pillars of patriarchy, access to education, violence and protest movements
nairobi noir - ed. peter kimani
a collection of short stories centered around nairobi, please check out my other review here
in the margins - elena ferrante
others:
heartstopper - alice oseman
small changes over long periods of time - k.m. szpara
the other side of the diaspora - brittany white (in the bosphorus review)
currently reading:
the idiot -  elif batuman 
slowly making my way through this. it’s such a chewy book and an intriguing combination of very little plot, the author’s own anchored sense of place of her time in harvard/boston, and all that the narrator’s unique lens on themes like knowledge, linguistics and writing the Other as a second-generation turkish immigrant. must-read for all the literary girlies
prisoner of the infidels: the memoir of an ottoman muslim in seventeenth-century europe - osman agha de timișoara (translation by giancarlo casale)
one thing about textual history by common people in the balkans is that it doesn’t exist. most written history in the region we have is predictably defined by the upper classes such as nobility and clergy. this 17th century memoir is unique in that it was written by an ottoman soldier who was captured during the ottoman–habsburg wars, and that it gazes upon the west at a time when orientalism (that is, the view from west to east) was sinking its sharp teeth into artistic consciousness.  i found this book through this delightful conversation with the translator on the ottoman history podcast.
my name is red - orhan pamuk
26 notes · View notes
sitp-recs · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
(Perfect artwork for Modern Love, by @cambiodipolvere)
Today is the day of one of my favorite people! And I totally resent @tackytigerfic and Starry for almost sharing the same birthday, god the STRESS 😂 Tacky is my first and closest fandom friend. We clicked together so fast and easy that sometimes it feels like I’ve known her all my life, like we’re two dog moms living in the same neighborhood who happen to read fic in their free time. Despite our conflicting time zones and crazy schedules we manage to chat every other day, tagging and sending each other all kinds of stuff, coming together to cry scream about a brilliant fic we’ve just read or shaking our heads in embarrassment at every other unnecessary bullshit post. Tacky’s bright and wise energy uplifts my spirit even on my moody days, and makes me grateful for her friendship and for this fandom life. Okay so this got long and I had to put the rest under the cut:
It’s such a lovely and precious thing, to have someone with whom you can share every single thought that crosses your mind, your scariest, most embarrassing, petty or disturbing idea, without fear of being shamed or judged by it. I trust Tacky with all my heart to hear me out, share a joke or a piece of advice, even on the (rare) occasions when we don’t get the same perspective - that doesn’t happen often when it comes to Drarry, as we are taste twins!
Tacky my darling, you’re such a good person, and such an incredible friend. Thank you for introducing me to this lovely community, for being my safe haven and your unique self, with so many qualities I admire and feel inspired by: kind, witty, earnest, wise, and so very human. I love your humour and empathy, and your chill yet no-nonsense personality; I love your talent and how articulated you are; I love your passion for Drarry, and how you let this emotion inform the way you navigate the fandom and create for it. And god, but you’ve been creating some of the most beautiful content I’ve seen in these recent years! I’m permanently in awe of your ability to write Drarry in any shape, format or length, transforming even the most ordinary moment into an extraordinary and meaningful piece of character or relationship development. You know how you mentioned yesterday that some authors change the way you feel about a ship in a deep, definitive way? Well, you are that author for me. Your works made me fall in love with M-rated contemplative romance, and also allowed me to fall in love with Harry in a way I never thought it was possible before.
Some people - myself included - got to know you through the fun and intriguing A Lick and a Promise, others through the atmospheric and sensitive Modern Love, others through your contemplative and heartbreaking short form. Each story has its merits and purpose, and all of them share a Tacky trademark: the heartkick factor! Your talent has no limits and goes across different genres and tropes, that you explore with a bold twist full of personality and heart. And even more impressive is your consistency at always raising the bar - every new fic of yours becomes an instant fave and makes me think “wow I thought Tacky couldn’t get better yet here we are”. Seeing how your writing evolves as you find your narrative voice is a beautiful and humbling experience, I feel so lucky!
I’m really grateful for being active in the fandom at this moment in time, because that allows me to read and engage with your brilliant work, and to have you as a dear friend. I can’t wait to see what comes out of your beautiful brain next. It was an impossible job choosing a single fic to rec today, so I decided to do a belated Tacky reclist! Naturally these are my personal and biased must-reads, and I urge everyone to go check these beauties right now. Feel free to include your own favorites too, and don’t forget to leave them some appreciation.
Happy happy birthday my darling Tacky! This fandom life wouldn’t be the same without you. I hope you have the amazing day you deserve!
Between the Power Lines (2020, M, 3.2k)
The road trip fic you didn’t know you needed. I got utterly immersed in the heartbreaking quietness of this, feeling like a witness to an ordinary yet poignant love story. Such tender intimacy, such character development, such lovely American aesthetics with barely any dialogue. This is, IMO, the fic that reveals Tacky’s triumph in storytelling.
Even the Night (2020, M, 3.4k)
This fic has a surreal atmosphere, those Midsummer vibes unbelievably sexy and intoxicating linked to the sensorial experience of fumbling together in the night. Masterclass in tension building, a silky and languid dream-like affair.
Aim for my Heart (2021, M, 3.4k) - Harry/Draco/Ron
One of the most sensitive and stunning portraits I’ve ever seen of a poly/triad relationship, this fic packs so much character and longing! It’s a privilege to watch Ron and Draco’s tentative dynamics through the smitten eyes of the one person that loves them like no one else: Harry.
The Long Fall (2021, M, 3.6k)
I can’t even write about this tender domesticity without getting a lump in my throat. Best opening scene I’ve read in years, and a refreshing way to approach both mpreg and parenthood, painfully honest and lovely. This became an immediate comfort read for me, and it’s probably one of the fics I revisit the most.
Mortal Frame (2021, M, 6.6k)
This thrilling, fast-paced spy story left me breathless since the first paragraph, gods what an immersive ride! I’m so here for Drarry on the run, sharp and urgent with danger but mellowed by the silent trust and tender intimacy only Tacky can master. Major bonus points for the brilliant take on the Horcrux hunt plot line!
Last Offices (2020, M, 6.7k)
Oh, this fic 💔 I tend to avoid MCD but there’s something so deeply fascinating about body washing rituals that I caught myself mesmerized by this. I just couldn’t put it down, so emotionally compromised I felt. There’s a sort of strange comfort in the heartbreak of doing one last act of service out of devotion to someone. This fic inspired so many difficult but lovely feelings in me, and one of them was hope. Only Tacky could possibly achieve that!
Our Little Life (2020, M, 7.2k)
Inventive and singular, this story hit me straight on the solar plexus and left me speechless as I saw the (clever, magical and bittersweet) plot unravel. Such a fabulous take on alternate universes and all the angst potential behind it. Come and bask in the yearning melancholia of a short yet intricate and perfectly executed plot.
And One to Play (2019, E, 21k)
What a fun and delightful fic, I can’t have enough of pining Harry losing all sense of propriety when faced with a hot, competent and pragmatic Draco. This has fab dynamics, unhinged protectiveness, even more unhinged attraction between two idiots who can’t keep their hands off each other. A must-read for any Auror partners fan!
A Lick and a Promise (2019, E, 55k)
Hot, BAMF Professors carefully balancing a fuck buddies situation while solving a Hogwarts mystery, do we need anything else? I certainly do not. This fic is so fun and intriguing and immersive, with amazing supportive cast and a delicious get together feat secret shagging and oblivious pining. Love it!
Modern Love (2020, E, 61k)
My favorite read of 2020, this fic is a love letter to Drarry and will always hold a piece of my soul. Sensitive, wistful, tenderly aching and so very romantic, this is a Muggle Draco triumph with a superb Harry, exquisite slow burn and a side of suds comfort. I promise it will be impossible to listen to Bowie again without thinking of this love story.
Bonus: five stunning drabbles!
Something in the Way (2021, T, 119 words)
“Up,” he said, and Draco, sick with love, raised his arms above his head and allowed Potter to slide the jumper on him, big hands stroking it flat over Draco’s stomach until they both shivered.
Stir-Up Sunday (2020, M, 300 words)
“I want you always,” he said, tugging again on the fine curling length of it. “Is it okay to say that?”
Whalebone Arch (2021, M, 722 words)
“Are you still not talking to me?” Draco steered Harry towards the crisps. “Do I have to suck you off in the loo to cheer you up?”
Semiplume (2021, T, 923 words)
“Did you know,” Harry murmured, and he put his arms around Draco, fearless. “I’d be your mate. If you needed a mate, I mean.”
Relic Radiation (2021, M, 927 words)
“You’ll kill me,” Harry said, and Draco turned his face towards the darkened sky, lunar pale, his profile some stupid unearthly thing—a flaring blazar, a supernova—in the light from the kitchen window.
86 notes · View notes
Text
Cat Got Your Tongue
Chapter One
Tumblr media
Master List /  Series Master List
A/N: This series is set in the same world as Bare In The Woods (a one-shot were-bear Henry Cavill story). This series will be cross posted between Tumblr and AO3. As Tumblr has no way of preventing minors from reading the smutty bits (and there will be smutty bits) those chapters will only be available on AO3.
My archive work is available to Register Users Only. This means Yes, You Must Have An Account with Archive to read my work. If you'd like more information on how to acquire your Free archive account, please see this post. All you need is an email address to sign up. That's it. Just do it people.
Read on AO3 here!
Summary: The community of Salvation holds many secrets, not the least of which is the diversity of were-folk who call it home. Ember Porosha is one resident for who Salvation isn't just the town's name but her saving grace. After outrunning her past, she's resigned herself to playing surrogate to everyone else's children and never having her own. A mate was not in her future, and she was learning to live with that. Until he walked through the door of The Last Book and Brew.
Thomas Loki Hiddleston wasn't going to be in town long. Here for the naming of Henry and his wife's baby girl and presentation to the weres of Salvation, he planned only to stay a few days. A small town like this could never offer him the outlet he needed for his cat's dark desires, nor could he hide what he was for long. His nature would eventually need an outlet and Salvation held nothing for him. Or so he thought. One wiff of Ember's unique scent and he knew he'd found a long thought lost to him future.
But when she doesn't fall at his feet, and proves more stubborn than a mule, can he resit taking her in hand long enough to win her heart? Or will the bond between true mates not be enough to tame this wild hellcat.
Series warnings: Were-Creatures, Cats, Bears, Smut, Shameless Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Dom/sub, Blood, Blood Kink, this one could (will) get kinky
***
When the sleek black car drove through town, Ember gave it only a passing glance. It was odd, sure, but anyone who drove a Jag was so far out of her league they were playing on a different ball diamond altogether. The car screamed money, something she cared little about.
Sure she needed it, everyone did, but Ember was content with what she had, and in this sleepy town cradled lovingly between the mountains, she didn't need much. She had her sweet yellow cottage, her bookstore, and a community of friends when she desired company. And now, with the snow falling thick on the ground, she would have another singular pleasure. 
Ember's little snow leopard heart leapt at the thought of running through the high passes and sliding down the long slopes, her wide paws keeping her above the snowpack instead of sinking in while her thick coat kept out the cold. It had been too long since she'd last played in her were form, and was looking forward to going out to the ranger station in a few days to visit with Henry, his wife, and their little cub. 
The sweet baby girl already had Henry wrapped firmly around her finger, and Ember couldn't help but laugh at the goofy smile that perpetually graced his face when he looked at his family. 
If a pang of jealousy jabbed her heart, Ember didn't let it show. She'd resigned herself to a lonely life a long time ago. 
The bell over the door of her little shop gave a merry jingle, and she placed the last of the new James Patterson novels on the shelf before dusting off her hands and stepping out from behind the bookshelves to smile at Lorraine, the town's most gossipy raven.
If she was fluttering into The Last Book and Brew, then Ember was about to hear an earful.
***
Tom swept into the charming inn and forced himself to smile at the woman behind the desk. He'd spent a miserable six hours on the road, driven through a blizzard, and killed his cellphone when he'd dropped it in an icy puddle two hours prior as he'd filled the car with petrol. But there was no alternate way to get to Salvation, buried deep in the mountains, except to drive. 
And Salvation was where he needed to be. 
His old friend, Henry, was celebrating the birth of his first cub, and Tom dropped everything to come and see the little darling Henry was blessed with. And to meet the woman who'd tamed the giant bear after all this time. Sadly, he'd been unable to attend their wedding, but he refused to miss the welcoming of a new were into the community, whether he belonged to the Salvation clan or not.
That didn't mean he wouldn't give Hen the gears for choosing to live in some backwater nowhere even if it was beautiful here. 
Still, Tom preferred the city for its indulgences and entertainments. No, he couldn't fall on all fours and run through the concrete jungle he called home, but he'd long come to terms with his destiny. It wasn't as if there was a panther out there waiting to run under the moonlight with him. 
He was going to be a lone cat, a bachelor. He'd resigned himself to it, for no matter what anyone said, no one - were or human - had ever submitted wholly to his dark desires and chosen to stay in his possession afterward. They were all far too soft for his liking, ending in no more than a one-and-done.
At least, he could stalk the clubs and play with those unaware of his darkest needs and wants in the city. Tom was not a Dom to be denied, and those who gave in to the allure of his pretty face soon learned all about the devil underneath his Gucci suit.
"Hello, darling," he purred to the desk clerk. "Thomas Loki Hiddleston, checking in. I believe I have a reservation."
She blushed to the roots of her hair, sputtered, and nodded. "Of-of course, sir. If-if you'll sign a few things and put your card on file, I can get you situated on your back- In your room!" she corrected, staring at her hands. 
Tom couldn't hide his smile, but he swallowed his laughter. It was always the same. The sweet little birds flocked to him, but they had no idea a predator was stalking them.
He went through the incidentals, signed her documents, collected his key and listened intently when she told him about the room, breakfast, the restaurant, spa, and pool. His ears perked up at the last. He did enjoy a refreshing swim. 
"And if you fancy something other than regular coffee or black tea, there is The Last Book and Brew just down the street. Ember makes the best scones and tea."
"Does she now?" he murmured, eyeing Irene - her name on a little plaque pinned to her chest - as she handed him back his credit card. "Perhaps I'll check in on it. A cuppa does sound delightful." The drive had been long, and tea might be just the pick-up he needed before calling round to Henry's. 
He nodded to Irene and headed for the stairs instead of the elevator. Three floors were nothing for his long legs, the exertion minimal, as he hiked to the third floor and down to the end where he fit the old-fashioned key into the antique lock and pushed open the door. 
Tom was pleasantly surprised to find a mixture of well-kept antiques and modern furnishings decorating the space. While the bed and mattress were new and covered with clean, white duvet and sheets, the dresser - upon which sat a television - was a heavy mahogany buffet with curved Queen Anne legs. The bathroom was a revolution of modern plumbing though a cast iron tub stood on clawed feet beside a glass shower big enough for two. Gilt framed mirrors hung above dual vanities into which water poured from brushed gold fixtures. 
It was all very romantic with its old-world charm though the inn was showing its age. Wallpaper lifted at the edges, millwork was chipped and rubbed in places, and a few of the lovely old tiles on the floor in the bathroom were cracked. But with the likely age of the building, it wasn't so surprising. If the gorgeous stone building weren't at minimum a century, he would eat his scarf. 
She could be an absolute beauty with effort and enough money. Yes, he would be comfortable here for a time. The Salvation Inn would suit him.
Tom made his way to the windows that looked out on Salvation's main street. The road was a mess of dirty snow, sanded and salted for ease of travel, but the thick white flakes floating down turned the quaint replica gas street lights into white-topped monuments of winter. Storefronts glowed with welcoming light, still running their Autumn displays, creeping toward American Thanksgiving. The commercialization of Christmas had yet to appear, giving everything a cheerful, colourful cast he found pleasing to his senses. 
Cars moved without hurry, mimicking the people coming and going about their business. Everyone was bundled up, but no one seemed to mind the cold and the snow. To be expected, he supposed. They lived in the mountains where snow fell early and lasted late. 
As his gaze traversed the lane, his attention landed on The Last Book and Brew and caused him to tilt his head, intrigued. Unlike the other traditional storefronts with their brick faces and colourful awnings, gold filigree writing on wooden signs, the little bookstore had a distinctly different feel to it. 
The door, window frames, and brickwork that accented the front of the building were painted a shiny, deep black. There was no awning but three stunning lanterns hung above the windows on wrought iron arms, beautifully curved like the elegant lines of a woman's body. A sign in the same black iron hung perpendicular to the door. Shaped like a shield or some family crest, the words The Last Book and Brew glowed crimson outlined in gold, while a raven of the same black iron sat guard, casting judgement on all who entered. Red velvet mounded in the windows, lovingly cradling the displayed books like sacrificial offerings. 
Someone knew what they were doing, for that was the sexiest storefront Tom had ever seen.
Utterly enchanted and desperate to see if the interior matched the exterior, he left his leather valise unpacked on the bed, pocketed his key, and headed for the door.
Irene looked up as he passed her, but Tom paid the clerk little mind. He was on a mission, a hunt now, needing to discover the answer to the mystery of just who this Ember of Last Book and Brew was that she could create with such aplomb a store so alluring. 
There was no wind when he trotted down the inn's exterior stairs and out into the snowfall. Traffic was light, so he crossed mid-street, avoiding puddles and snowbanks in an attempt to keep the Italian leather of his shoes dry while large flakes of falling snow collected in his dark ginger locks. He reached the door and admired the ornate handle before opening the door into another world. 
Tom stepped inside and stared in amazement. He'd never thought a bookstore could be moody, but this one certainly was. The floors were highly polished ebony wood that led into dark railings which spiralled past the sunken first-floor cafe up a short flight of stairs toward the bookstore beyond. 
He admired the cobblestone floor in the cafe, again shiny with polish, sealed he suspected to make cleanup easier. Upon them sat a virtual Mad Hatter's Tea Party of chairs, all shapes and sizes separated by wrought iron tables topped with glass. And though the chairs were unique in shape, they matched for colour, upholstered as they were in the blood-red and black brocade that turned them into a sexy indulgence he prayed were as comfortable as they looked. 
And hung above it all, like a lady's magnificent fascinator, was a chandelier worthy of the name. Clearly electric, it appeared to drip ropes of black jewels and crystals as long as his palm, lit by three dozen candles that flickered with faux flames. It was spectacular.
Beyond, the cafe counter, like a walnut dream, appeared to be a repurposed and rehabbed saloon bar where elegant scrollwork on a pristine chalkboard announced the daily specials. He could see the cakes and pastries in their glass case, and while his stomach rumbled to remind him of the last meal he'd eaten, Tom was too enthralled with the decadence of the store to allow himself to be led by his nose when a small sign at the foot of the stairs requested no food past that point. 
Another small sign asked him to wipe his feet, which he did without thought, before heading up the short but wide curved stairwell to the second floor into the fantasy world of someone's most magnificent mind. 
He felt guided by the hand of a fae as he wound his way through ebony bookcases over hardwood floors, beneath more hanging lanterns and delicate chandeliers. The soft white of all the lights allowed him to read titles and leaf through pages without feeling as if the overhead lights would eventually dry out his eyes or buzz their annoyance through his brain. Every so often, he came upon stands of lightly scented candles, or soaps, or lotions made with all-natural products and tingling with the lightest touch of were-magic, causing Tom to look at the store with deeper senses. 
The corners and cardinal points of the space had crystal wards, he realized, and the soft pulse of benevolent magic left him at ease. Whoever this Ember was, she bid all who came to her sanctuary welcome. 
Even more intrigued than before, Tom found his way toward the counter where voices spoke in hushed tones, intent on finding the owner and congratulating her on the sensual, slightly erotic nature of her store. It left him breathless in a way that was hard for him to come by, and yet even as it pulled at his dark, seductive nature, he knew a family could come into such a place and find it magical, like falling into the rabbit hole of a dark Alice fantasy.
"That's nice, Lorraine, but I don't think Henry would approve of you gossiping about his friend."
Tom stopped in his tracks. Warm brandy and velvet bled over his senses, stroking straight through him to the soul of his cat. The panther purred and preened, wanting the owner of that voice to pet him and whisper words of seduction in his ear. 
"Poppycock! Some big-city fella isn't going to care if we mountain folk talk about him."
Ugh, raven. He'd know that grating tone anywhere.
"Besides, he's some fancy lawyer or something," the raven, Lorraine, continued. "I'm sure he's used to people talking about him."
"It is still impolite."
Tom shivered, eyes half-lidding. He had to roll his head, stretching his neck to keep from sprouting fur. What he wouldn't give for one night with the owner of that voice. 
Never one to hide in the face of scrutiny, Tom glided out from behind the bookshelf and smiled at the two women. "Actually, I run hotels."
The raven eeped and jumped, spinning to face him. She was older than he'd suspected, her dark hair thoroughly saturated with grey though her eyes remained clear brown orbs. The other, oh, the other, he could not help but stare.
Her face was the kind that would make angels weep with sharp, classic features, high cheekbones and a pointed chin like a sweet little fox. Her big eyes widened in surprise, showing off the shocking green, so pale and light they were almost neon when the light caught them. The heavy fall of thick curls that slipped from her shoulder left his mouth dry with the desire to sink his fingers into the mass that started black at the root and faded into tones of silver and dark grey, hinting at patterns like small rosettes. 
A sleek, lithe body lovingly caressed by a sweater of raspberry wool and leggings of black knit glided out from behind the cash desk, her steps silent in small silver ballet flats. "Mr. Hiddleston?"
"Indeed," he purred, accepting her hand when she offered it. He captured it between both of his rather than shaking it as presented and held it lightly. "Thomas Loki Hiddleston, at your service, love. My friends call me Tom."
"Ember Porosha. Welcome to Salvation and The Last Book and Brew." She tilted her head, causing all that lovely hair to slide to the opposite shoulder. "Henry speaks highly of you."
"Mm," he chuckled, adjusting his grip to lightly press his thumb into the palm of her hand as he brought her knuckles to his lips. "Brags, does he?"
"Terribly," she agreed with a smile.
Tom smirked and pressed his lips to her skin. He inhaled and went rigid. That scent, the sweet smell of pine and snow somehow laced with the delicate notes of summer dreams, drowned him, flooding his lungs until he was sure he would never be able to breathe again without breathing in Ember's delectable fragrance. 
She tried to retrieve her hand. Tom growled, low and deep, more a purr than a reprimand, and opened eyes he knew would glow green with his cat. 
"Well, hello, pet," he smiled. "It seems I was wrong." He wasn't destined to be alone after all.
Sharp claws latched into his hands. "I've no desire to start anything with you, true mate or not."
He dropped her hands and brought his to his mouth to catch the blood seeping from the minor wounds. "We will see about that."
She hissed at him. 
Tom threw his head back and laughed before gliding into her personal space and threading his fingers into her hair. "Spit all you like, little kitten. I always get what I want."
"I think it's time you left, Mr. Hiddleston," Ember growled, her hand on his chest to keep him at bay. 
"Tea first," he smirked. "I'm gagging for a cuppa. Haven't had a decent one all day!" He stroked the silvery strands before letting them fall through his fingers. "Is your coat just as soft, Kitten?"
She glared daggers at him. "Leave."
He chuckled but stepped back, practically able to see her tail flick in anger. "Until later then, Ember."
***
He turned on his heels and sauntered away, leaving her seething behind him. How dare he. How dare he! How dare he assume such liberties when they'd only just met. When it was clear he was only passing through and would leave nothing but devastation in his wake.
"How dare he!" she hissed and stormed toward the back of the store to her office to calm down, forgetting Lorraine was still there.
Ember didn't slam the door, knowing he was still in the store, and she'd be damned before she gave him that much power over her. She would not be brought to heel like some… some… Kitten!
She growled a low sound and clenched her fists, determined to get control of herself and that snow leopard rolling like a damn hussy inside her.
She'd smelt him the moment he'd stepped beyond the books—dark spice and leather, mandarin and rosewood, with notes of cinnamon and vanilla. Ember's mouth watered with the desire to taste his skin and see if he tasted as good as he smelled.
"No," she said firmly. Her cat scoffed. "He won't stay here. He's a big city panther, and we will never go back." She was determined to live alone, be alone because she was safer that way.
Salvation was, well, their salvation. When she was most desperate for a new start and a place to hide from her past, Salvation was there with open arms, and an established were community.
Her cat settled down with the reminder and left her alone to pick up the phone.
Ember dialed the number by heart and waited for them to answer. "Hey, Henry, it's Ember. About tonight. Something has come up… I'm… not going to make it."
Next Chapter
129 notes · View notes
karajaynetoday · 3 years
Text
i'll be honest, it's better off this way | luke hemmings
Tumblr media
image credit 
hello pals! long time no writing! i know it seems a bit weird to post a luke break up fic just after he got engaged but to be fair, I already had this in the works before the news broke yesterday, so soz not soz. It is kind of a happy break up story though... kind of? this one features lyrics from our song by niall and anne marie that are in italics throughout the piece (you know i love a song lyric incorporation lol) and i’m a bit rusty, so any feedback is welcome! a big shoutout to my dearest @notinthesameguey​ for beta-reading this one for me, you’re a gem blanca! enjoy xo
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings:  mentions of a break up and a car accident/hospitalisation (minor/non-graphic)
(This is a fem reader insert)
More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here
I'll be honest, I'm alright with me
Sunday mornings, in my own bedsheets
The break up with Luke had been easier than you’d first thought. It’d been months of growing apart, feeling like a stranger in your own home, before you finally worked up the nerve to utter those four words: We need to talk. He’d been spending most days and some nights in the studio, and you’d been working overtime at your job too; you were ships in the night who barely had time to say hello and goodbye, let alone have any sort of proper conversation. You’d spent an entire evening rehearsing a script in your head, and as soon as Luke walked through the door and greeted Petunia, you mustered the courage to stand up and speak your truth. 
It turned out that you weren’t alone in feeling stagnant in your relationship, and although you could feel your heart breaking as you said the words, Luke’s hand on your knee was all the gentle reassurance you needed. Just like always, even when your relationship was falling apart, Luke was there for you. And that’s what he promised, that night in the living room. It didn’t make sense for you two to become strangers overnight after 3 years together, but you also both knew that you needed space to grow and heal, and that space needed to happen sooner rather than later. 
You could tell that part of Luke wanted to fight it, wanted to raise his voice, wanted to convince you to stay. But part of Luke also knew that it was time to walk away, no matter how much his heart was feeling like it was being ripped out of his chest, because he did truly love you, and if he loved you, he’d let you go. 
Even though Luke insisted you could stay in the spare room for as long as you liked, it only took a week or so to find a new place. An apartment in KayKay’s building opened up for rent, and thanks to her help, you secured the lease and started moving in as soon as you could. Ashton accompanied you to Ikea and then helped with assembling a new bed and dining table for you, while KayKay helped unpack some of your boxes. You could tell that they were trying to be sensitive, but at the same time were desperate to know what went down in the break up, and after a few slices of pizza and half a bottle of wine, you felt the emotions rushing to the surface.
“It feels dumb to get upset, after all, I was the one who suggested we should break up.” You sniffled, smiling sadly as Ashton handed you a tissue.
“Just because it was something that needed to happen, doesn’t mean you can’t be sad about it. You two shared a lot in the time you were together, it’s only natural that it’s going to take you a while to untangle yourselves from one another and to get your head and heart back on the path that’s right for you.” KayKay spoke softly, throwing an arm around your shoulders.
You knew she was right, and the healing would come; it was all part of the rollercoaster of walking away from someone you thought was the love of your life, but had turned out not to be. Time to adjust and find some independence, and re-shape the life you found yourself in until it was the life you wanted. 
But every time I think that I can get you out my head, you never, ever let me forget
Once you’d completely moved out Luke’s house, your reasons to contact him became few and far between. A few occasional texts to advise that he’d let his family know about your split, and a link to a new cafe nearby that he thought was your kind of vibe (and it absolutely was). Everyone in your friendship group was trying their best to help you both cope, but it was hard to avoid the awkwardness that came with a break up of close friends.  
You felt like you were walking on eggshells for a while, so you started to say no to invitations out. You threw yourself into a new work project, and barely replied to any group chats. Whenever your friends called, you had the perfect script rehearsed, about how you were going to be up for promotion, and after the next month or so, you’d have plenty more time for catching up with everyone. You were fairly certain that no-one believed your story, but you were sticking to it nonetheless. You’d seen photos online of Luke out and about with various beautiful women amongst the partying crew, and even though you knew better than to torture yourself with doom-scrolling through the internet, you couldn’t help yourself. You had to keep reminding yourself that it was YOU that wanted the breakup, and that it was for the best. Or something like that.
It was coming to the end of your big project, and the entire office decided to head out for celebratory drinks. You only stayed for a couple, because after a month of overtime you were ready for bed. Your boss took you aside to assure you that the promotion was yours and the new contract would be on your desk on Monday, and as you reassured him you were excited to take on the role, a song playing over the bar’s speakers made you stop in your tracks. You’d spent many a Sunday morning dancing around the kitchen making pancakes with Luke and singing these words; something you’d completely forgotten until this moment. As you stepped outside to await your Uber, the first person you wanted to call with the news was Luke. Your fingers hovered over his name for a good few minutes before your Uber driver honked and broke you out of her trance, and you settled for texting the group chat instead to share your exciting update. Lots of confetti and heart eyes emojis started popping up alongside congratulatory messages, and you let out a giggle when you saw that Luke had sent a photo of Petunia with “congrats!” scrawled across it in purple font. It was the last thing you remembered, before the squealing of tyres and your vision going black. 
Just when I think you're gone, Hear our song on the radio
Just like that, takes me back, To the places we used to go
The rhythmic beeping of the hospital monitors was the first thing you noticed as you stirred awake. The second was a dull pain across your skull, and the third was that your arm was in a sling. Fourth was the large, warm hand that was holding your own and gently squeezing; without opening your eyes, you knew it was Luke’s. You felt too weak to say any words, so instead you tried your best to squeeze back as you slowly opened your eyes. You heard a sharp intake of breath, before Luke’s smiling face came into view.
“Hey there, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” Luke asked, reaching up to gently brush some hair out of your eyes.
“Like I was in a car accident.” You managed to croak out, shooting him a wry smile and earning a laugh in return.
“You are correct, you can pass go, and collect $200. A pretty gnarly accident, the car’s a write-off, but thankfully everyone’s injuries are relatively minor. Some dickhead ran a red light.” You could tell Luke was trying to remain calm, but under the surface he was pissed.
“Not ideal, but at least I get a few days off work.” You joked, grimacing as you tried to sit up. Luke stood and gently maneuvered your pillows to support your back and shoulders better, and you felt a zap of electricity as his hands brushed your arms in passing.
As Luke sat back in the chair next to the bed, you suddenly realised that it was just the two of you in the hospital room. 
“No offence, Hemmo, but what are you doing here? Considering we’re no longer significant others, and all…” You said awkwardly, looking down at your arm sling with sudden great interest.
“Very observant, dear. Glad to see the concussion hasn’t affected your short term memory, I was worried you’d forget me entirely. You did, however, forget to update your emergency contact details, so I guess I was first on the list for the hospital to call. Ash, KayKay and I have been taking shifts but they’re out getting food right now - “ The rest of Luke’s explanation was cut off by a gasp and a cheer at the door, signalling Ashton and KayKay’s return and subsequent delight at you being awake.
The days that followed were uncomfortable physically, but kind of heartwarming emotionally. You got home to your apartment thanks to KayKay’s assistance, and found that your friends had stocked your fridge and freezer full of ready-made meals and your favourite snacks. They’d also made a roster so not a day went by without someone popping in to check on you, although you noticed that Luke never came by. 
Your recovery was slow but steady, and soon enough the doctors gave you the all clear. At this point, it was nearly 6 months since you’d broken up with Luke, and you could feel your mindset shifting. He was no longer the first person you wanted to call with good or bad news, or the first memories that popped into your head when you needed cheering up. It almost felt like… relief? Because for the longest time, even though you knew the break up was for the best, detaching yourself from one another seemed almost in possible after so many years of so many memories. 
I've been waking up alone, I haven't thought of him for days
I'll be honest, It's better off this way
The tipping point came at Calum’s birthday party, a month or so later. Ashton had invited you out for coffee and nonchalantly mentioned that maybe, possibly, well actually extremely likely almost definitely Luke was bringing a date to the gathering at Cal’s house; a girl he’d been seeing for a month or so. Everyone wanted you to be comfortable, and everyone, Cal especially, wanted you to be there, but they also understood if you wanted to avoid any potential awkward encounters with Luke and his new love interest. You assured Ashton that it would be fine, that you honestly weren’t bothered, and laughed off his suggestion of setting you up with a super hot blind date to help level the playing field.
The night came along, and you found yourself stumbling along Calum’s front path in the dark as you tried not to drop the gift you’d bought for him (a new cookbook and a collection of various hot sauces).  “Bloody 5sos and the “no good party starts until 11pm rule”, you muttered to yourself as you almost tripped over again, and you heard an indignant shout that sounded very Ashton-like behind you.
“Oi! Don’t be mad at us, you know that rule has never let us down!” Ashton bellowed, as he came forward with his phone flashlight switched on, KayKay not too far behind him.
“Damn girl, you like fiiiiiine!” KayKay said, letting out a low whistle. You rolled your eyes, knowing she was exaggerating. Your outfit was essentially a denim skirt and a t-shirt - maybe you’d sexed it up a little bit with some thigh high boots, tousled hair and a red lip, but all’s fair in love and war, right?
The three of you made it inside, and a very tipsy Calum greeted you with open arms and a lot of excitement at your gift of hot sauce. It felt so nice to be back with all your friends at a house party, like the old days, and you found yourself stepping out onto the back patio for a moment of quiet reflection and to share some pats with Duke.
You’d exchanged a wave with Luke when you’d entered the house, but hadn’t quite worked up the confidence to go up and speak to him, especially when he had his new girl in close proximity. She looked really friendly, though, and you could tell from the spark in both of their eyes that their relationship was blossoming in the best possible way. Part of you thought you’d be upset about it, but all you truly felt was content. Content in your life as it was, surrounded by friends that loved you just as much as you loved them, and actually quite proud of how far you’d come over the past year. You’d learned to stand on your own two feet, and you’d grown into a much more settled, independent human as a result. 
You were lost in your train of thought when you heard the song change on the speakers inside. Duke’s ears perked up and he licked your hand attentively when you stopped patting him as the song registered - it was your song. Or at least, it used to be. You felt a smile creep onto your face when you remembered the Sunday mornings of pancakes and singalongs, and the smile grew wider when you saw Luke’s girlfriend dragging him onto the dancefloor, much to his (fake) protests. You made eye contact with your kind-hearted, softly-smiling, gentle-eyed ex-boyfriend, and for a split second you saw a flash of concern cross his face. In response, you raised your glass in a cheers and shot him a wink, which earned a smile and a small laugh from Luke before he turned his attention back to the beautiful girl in his arms. You took a sip, and smiled to yourself. It truly was better off this way. 
When I hear it, I just can't stop smiling, I remember you're gone
Baby, it's just a song on the radio, That we used to know
Taglist: If there’s a line through your name, I couldn’t tag you, so please message me to let me know your new URL or what the go is!   @suchalonelysunflower @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @loveroflrh @spicycal @notinthesameguey @metalandboybands @cheekysos @ashton-trash  @another-lonely-heart @queenalienscherrypie  @becihadshawn  @allthestarsandthemoon  @oyesmendes​ @andrianawinchester @333-xx  @findingliam-o @hoodhoran @rbforsmileycal @myloverboyash @myhappylittleyoutubee @saywhatnow07 @secretsicanthideanymore @ar1analara  @killmywildflower​
92 notes · View notes
delos-mio · 3 years
Text
Out of the Woods - College!AU - PART 1
Tumblr media
A/N: Welp, here it is! Part 1 of my silly little AU for my favorite silly little king. I really hope I can do him justice and I greatly appreciate any comments and questions you may have! No major triggers- only implied drug use, drinking, allusion to sexy stuff. So, without further ado..
If you had to gaze into a crystal ball at the beginning of the year, this would not have been the future you expected to see. You didn’t plan on being unhoused, stuck in an idle relationship, and debating dropping out of school all together. But here you were, trying your very best to pick up the pieces, salvage what little motivation to carry on that you had left. It could have been worse. It could have been much worse, at least that’s what you kept telling yourself to keep from crumbling entirely. You were never one to back down though, and these few hurdles sure as hell weren’t going to be the thing to break you. At least one of your problems was solved.
You had just emptied the last of the boxes left from moving and were hanging up the rest of your clothes when there was a soft knock on your door. Genya popped her head in, smiling brightly.
“Hey. I was just making sure you were getting settled ok,” she said.
“Yeah, I’m just about done unpacking I think.” You sat down next to her on the edge of your bed. “Thanks again for letting me live here. You have no idea how much you saved his ass,” you laughed.
“Don’t mention it! I’m happy to have someone else here, honestly.” She seemed to mean it, so you decided not to keep groveling. “Anyways, I just had a friend text me about a party tonight if you wanted to go?”
Your party days were almost entirely behind you. Freshman and Sophomore year were a haze of booze and recreational drugs, leading to you almost flunking out of school on more than one occasion. You’d since cleaned up your act, for the most part, and found you way back on the Dean’s list. But...it was a Friday afterall. And you’d just spent all day moving and contemplating your entire life- did that not earn a beer or two?
“Yeah, ok. Ok. That sounds good,” you said with a nod.
“Awesome! I think we’re meeting there around 10ish, so I’ll come grab you to get ready in a little bit.”
“Get ready? Are we 18 and going to our first frat party?” you joked, making Genya laugh.
“I was thinking about it more so as a roomie bonding activity, but if you wanna be a brat…” she drawled, trying to keep the smile off her face.
“Come back in an hour,” you finally sighed. Genya looked simply delighted as she exited, very clearly planning out looks for you both in her head.
As you went to finish up organizing your closet, you felt the familiar buzz of your phone in your pocket.
Matt: u coming over tonight?
You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back in your skull. That probably shouldn’t happen when you get a text from your boyfriend.
Y: can’t, sorry. Going out with Genya M: ok- have fun. Make good choices. Y: wtf does that mean M: just to make good choices? Jesus does everything have to be a fight? Y: i’m not trying to fight omg Y: i’ll just talk to you later M: k
K. He had some fucking nerve.
---
Across campus, Nikolai wasn’t having much better of an evening.
"Do I have to?"
"Yes." Aleks's tone was final; Nikolai knew there was no point in trying to bargain with him at this point.
"Jesus, fine." Nikolai’s fate had been decided and it was now mandatory that he go to the Delta Chi party that night. And here he had been looking forward to a quiet evening alone with his guitar and journal...
"It'll be fun, you sad sack. And I really want you to meet Alina," Aleks chastised.
"I didn’t know you missed my irreplaceable company quite this much."
Aleks gently threw a pencil across the table at his head. "Maybe you'll even catch a new fish of your own, huh?" he said with an obnoxious smirk. Nikolai just chuckled, nodding noncommittally before heading off to his bedroom.
It's not that he didn’t want to go. Well, he didn’t, really. But normally, he would. It’d been about a month since he called it off with the girl he met in Statistics. And it's not like he even missed her all that much- he knew she wouldn’t be around long from the start. But he was still stuck in the “mope in his room, write songs about heartbreak” phase of his healing. Because of such, he hadn't felt like partying much lately, but he’d blown off Aleks the last 3 weekends...he wasn't going to let Nikolai say no again.
Nikolai figured the least he could do is try and look presentable. It was unlike him to spend as much time in sweats as he had; his sense of style had always been impeccable. He was a man who knew he was handsome and knew the best way to broadcast just that. He pulled out tight black jeans and paired them with a powder blue button down with the sleeves rolled up, maybe a couple of the top buttons left undone. He pushed his golden hair back out of his hazel eyes and scrutinized himself in the mirror. To his horror, he looked like he hadn't had a good night of sleep in a week, which was true. Overall, it could have been better, but it could be worse. With a sigh, he grabbed his phone and keys before going out to find Aleks.
They got to the Delta Chi house, and there were already a few guys passed out on the lawn. Nikolai wasn’t surprised, but it was only 10:30. They must have been freshmen. Aleks lead the way to the porch where a petite dark haired girl turned around and beamed at them.
"You're late!" she says with a clearly fake pout. Aleks leaned in to kiss it away and Nikolai looked everywhere but at them.
"Sorry, sorry, I know. Miss Princess here had to be dragged out of his cave," he laughed at his expense. "Alina, this is Nikolai. Nikolai, Alina."
"Nice to finally meet you," Alina smiled. She's cute, he can give Aleks that.
"I’ll have you know I was not in a cave. I was waxing poetic about love lost, heartbreak and what have you,” Nikolai smirked as Alina laughed.
"Genya and her new roommate are already inside," Alina said, grabbing Aleks's hand.
Thank god. Not that he didn't want to spend time with them or get to know Alina, but he didn't really want to watch them suck face and play third wheel all night. Genya had been a friend of theirs since Freshman year- she smoked them down at a random dorm party and she'd been part of the gang ever since. Nikolai pushed through the crowd and made it along with Aleks and Alina to the kitchen. There were fewer people back here and Nikolai felt like he could breathe again.
"Nik," Genya chirped and threw her hands up excitement. "He lives!"
"You saw me Wednesday," Nikolai laughed. “But, I understand. Aleks was desperate for his company too. It must have been unbearable without me.”
"I really didn't think Aleks would get you to come," she said with an easy grin. Genya handed him a cup of what he assumed was beer. "Doesn't matter. You're here now."
They all circled up and chatted for a minute. For once in his life, Nikolai felt like he was noticeably quiet, but he found he didn’t have much to add. They didn’t want to hear about how he managed to cook a meal TWICE last week. Or how he’d written probably a dozen songs, all of them dogshit. Genya was grinning at a story their friend William was telling when she looked over his shoulder and motioned for someone to join them.
"Guys! Guys! This is my new roommate," Genya said. Ah yes, the new roommate. How could Nikolai forget?
New Roommate had wedged themselves into the circle two people away from Nikolai. He looked up from his cup and immediately locked eyes with you. Honestly, the name should have tipped him off. He never, ever thought he’d see you again. There's no way you possibly remember him, right? God, you were still so beautiful.
"Nikolai?" you asked with a tight voice, eyes jumping all around his face. And it's right about then that Nikolai wished he got a little more beauty sleep. Here you were, practically glowing, while he looked like the walking dead.
"Hey," he breathed out. It sounded a lot more desperate than he meant it to, but you always have had that effect on him.
"You guys know each other?" Aleks interjected.
"It's uh, it's been a few years, but yeah," you said with a blush, looking down into your cup. Aleks and Genya both looked at Nikolai with a raised eyebrow. He could feel the sweat pricking along his brow. Fuck, now all eyes were on him...
"Maybe there's a spot open for beer pong. Let's go check it out." Thank you. Subtle, Genya. "You guys can catch up," Genya said walking past you and patting Nikolai on the shoulder. The rest of his friends followed suit and Nikolai was left alone with you, staring not so subtly.
You hadn’t grown an inch. You’d lost the bright red glasses too. But, god, you were still the most gorgeous creature Nikolai had ever laid his eyes on. Really, he couldn't have lost his virginity to a hotter person.
It's your typical boy-meets-girl story. Nikolai first saw you at the rink where he played hockey in high school. Your parents owned the building and seeing as such, you were employed as the kid behind the concession stand. Nikolai remembered the first time he saw you, he thought you looked like a dork. A very hot dork, but a dork all the same. Nikolai began to notice you watching him in particular during practice, which just further flustered his raging teen hormones.
One night, after everyone else had left practice, Nikolai stayed behind and introduced himself to you. He’d never seen such a beautiful mouth and he had to resist the urge to kiss you right then and there. It became habit that he stay after practice and lean against the counter to shamelessly flirt with you. You often had the rink to yourselves by that time, so Nikolai felt like he could really be himself during those hours. He was still figuring out his place in the world and had stuck-up parents who would never approve of him taking you home. But in the lowlights of the concourse, he was allowed to have a crush on you.
Flirting led to making out behind the counter. Making out behind the counter led to hand stuff in your beat up purple van once you locked up for the night. Hand stuff led to him fucking you in the locker room shower. It was both of your first time and it could have been much less hurried. But you were young and inexperienced and horny as fuck and still exploring sexuality. You kept that arrangement up for the next few months until the season ended and Nikolai left that fall for school. He felt like a dick for not saying goodbye to you. It's not in his nature to ghost. It just isn't. He thinks maybe he was still scared of what it all "meant" and how much he really liked you. Maybe this was the universe telling him to make things right with you and make things right for himself.
"Hey, stranger," you said with a lopsided grin. Fuck. Nikolai was so done for if you kept looking at him like that.
"Hey yourself." And Nikolai couldn't help himself when he reached out to you to pull you in a tight embrace. Lucky him, you didn’t push him away and call him a fucking asshole; he thought he would have deserved that. You buried your face into his neck and the hot little puffs of air were doing way more to him than they should. You parted just enough to get a good look at each other.
"You look good," you said with a dark edge to your voice, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. He knew very well what he looked like that night, but you seemed to mean the compliment.
"You look better," he replied earnestly, because it was true. It shouldn't have been this easy to fall right back into things. But it was always different with you. Sometimes, he still thought you were the only one that really understood him without him having to say a word.
"Nikolai Lantsov, you always were a little flirt," you laughed. Your eyes crinkled at the corner and Nikolai thought to himself how beautiful you are when you’re playful. You’re always beautiful. He wanted nothing more than to whisk you away and have you alone. This time, he wouldn’t fuck it up. He wouldn’t let you go. You must have noticed his brain going into overdrive because you say "What's going on up there? What ya thinking?" You pushed a rogue lock of golden hair away from his face.
"Honestly?"
"Honestly."
"I'm thinking about how much I wish we weren't at a frat party right now. I'm thinking about how I want to be selfish and have you all to myself," Nikolai said low so only you could hear. You laughed a little to yourself and looked at him with sparkling eyes.
"I'm not stopping you," you drawled. Fuck. Fuck, ok. This was really happening.
"Let me tell the guys we're leaving and then do you maybe want to get some food?" Nikolai asked hopefully. You just nodded coyly with a small smirk.
"I'll meet you out front." You squeezed his hand once and started pushing your way through the sea of bodies.
Nikolai ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath before nearly running down to the basement, eager to say goodbye and make his way back to you. Genya, Aleks, Alina, and William were playing each other, a beer pong table stretching between their pairs.
"Where's your old friend?" Genya asked with a shit eating grin.
"We're um. We're actually gonna head out. So, I guess I'll—" but he was immediately cut off by Aleks.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Nik, are you leaving with a girl?" he teased.
"Yes. I am." Nikolai looked at him defiantly.
"How do you guys know each other anyways?" Bill asked before launching a shot.
"Just from growing up. High school or whatever," Nikolai mumbled.
"Cmon..." Genya begged.
"Wouldn’t you love to know," he said, voice laced with snark. "I just came down here to say we're fucking leaving!"
"Well then you better not keep your girl waiting," Genya said with a silent kiss in his direction. Nikolai just flipped her off and took his leave.
When he got outside, you were waiting with your hands in your pockets at the bottom of the porch steps. He smiled wide at you and offered a hand, which you seemed happy to take.
"So, are they gonna give me a bunch of shit next time I see them?" you asked as you walked hand in hand to the little strip of 24 hour restaurants on the outskirts of campus.
"Probably. Nothing you can't handle," Nikolai winked. You laughed then a little giggle. It's such a familiar sound and just like that, Nikolai was transported back to the ice rink and you giggling between kisses behind the snack bar.
You made it to one of his favorite delis in town and he offers to buy you a sandwich, which of course you tried to refuse his offer. Nikolai simply won't hear it. He had 5 years of douche baggery to make up for and insisted. You finally conceded and thanked him with the sweetest smile Nikolai had ever seen. You found a table in the corner, away from the door and prying eyes.
"So, how'd you meet Genya?" Nikolai asked.
"We have a writing class together. And we got to talking and became friends. I needed to find a new place cause my old roommate had to drop out and move home. I couldn't afford the place on my own. And I mean, you know how Genya is," you laughed, "I told her all about it one day in class and she offered me a room at her place without batting an eye."
"That does sound like Genya," Nikolai nodded.
"I've only been there like, two hours. But it's been good so far. Genya's been super cool," you said with a smile.
"I can't believe that we've been at the same school this whole time and it's taken this long to find each other," Nikolai said, mostly to himself, but you heard him and reached across the table to grab one of his hands.
"But we did find each other eventually, yeah?" You ran your thumb over his knuckle.
"Yeah," he said, suddenly bashful. Nikolai was seldom flustered. He had nerves of steel and had confidence to spare on his worst days. But you. You cut through him, all the way down to the core, and that made him nervous.
"So," you started, "Tell me about everything Nikolai Lantsov. Surely you've been up to something the last few years."
"Not much interesting to tell," he shrugged. "Been studying history. Writing music here and there to keep myself occupied."
"Girlfriend?"
"Who wants to know?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.
"Shut up," you mumbled into your soda. He doesn't miss the blush that's spreading over your cheeks.
"No. No girlfriend." he paused, considering how honest to be. But fuck it, he owed you candor. "I actually broke up with a girl a little over a month ago." You looked back up at him then, your eyes searching presumably for whether or not Nikolai was still torn up about it. "She wasn’t...she wasn’t right for mw and I guess I was just done. I feel like I should still be sad about it or whatever, but I'm not. I don't miss her. The wallowing and self reflection has been great writing fodder though," he said with a laugh.
"I'm sorry, Nik. You don't deserve that."
"Don't I?" Nikolai looked at you and suddenly felt torn open. "I...I'll never forgive myself for what I did to you." You bit down on your lip and looked out the window. "I regretted leaving you, god, and like a fucking asshole. I regretted leaving you so much. I know saying I'm sorry isn't even close to enough. But god, I'm so fucking sorry." He knew there were tears threatening to fall from his eyes, but he swallowed them down best he could.
"I'm not going to act like it didn't hurt me. Because it really, really did. But I accept your apology, Nik. You know I could never stay mad at you." You paused for a minute before looking at Nikolai with a tiny fire in your eyes. "You know, I'm pretty sure I was in love with you back then."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I don’t think I ever stopped loving you," He said confidently. Your jaw dropped just for a moment before you're giving him that sexy grin that apparently still drives him absolutely crazy.
"Still?” Nikolai just smirked. "What if you don't know me anymore?" you asked and sucked at the straw in your soda.
"I'd like to." There's a shift in the air between you. Nikolai was sure you could both feel it. It was suddenly too warm in the restaurant and there's too much table separating you. He decided to take his chance. “How do you feel about going back to my place?”
You suddenly seemed very interested in your nail beds, picking anxiously at the skin. “You didn’t ask me if I was seeing anyone.”
Nikolai stalled. He didn’t. You asked about his relationship status and he was so absorbed with letting you know that he was, in fact, single, that he didn’t bother to ask if you were even available. Hadn't you been flirting all night? He'd certainly been flirting. But like you said, maybe he didn't know you anymore. Maybe this was just how you were these days. “Are you...are you seeing someone?”
“Yeah,” you sighed. Maybe it was his own wishful thinking, him hearing the resignation in your voice. Not that he wanted you to be unhappy. No, you deserved the world and he wanted nothing more than for you to have the sun and the moon and the stars. But, maybe there was still a chance for him yet. “His name is Matt. We’ve been together for like, a year or so.”
“Matt.” He let the name burn his tongue. “You love him?”
“Nik…” you warned.
“Just a question.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“Just my two cents here,” Nikolai started, leaning back into the booth, “But you deserve to be with someone you can gush about. Someone who when you get asked if you love them, you don’t think twice and say ‘they’re the love of my life!’”
“And you don’t think that’s him?” you said, huffing. “You think that’s you?”
“There’s a chance,” he smirked. “All that aside, I’m very glad fate has brought us together again.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed. “I missed you too.” You looked at your phone quickly. “Shit, I should get going. I have a shift at 9 tomorrow.”
“Let me walk you home,” Nikolai insisted, standing from the booth and helping you into your jacket.
“Always such a gentleman,” you smiled, tapping him gently on the nose before walking ahead of him.
The walk to your and Genya’s place felt too short. Nikolai had made this trek, both intoxicated and sober, and it always seemed much longer. But now he was at your front door, hands shoved in his pockets as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. “If you don’t want to hang out again, I understand, but I need you to tell me now if you think it’s a bad idea,” he rushed out.
“Of course I want to see you again,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So dramatic. We can still be friends, right?”
“We can be best friends,” he smiled.
“I’m glad I ran into you tonight.”
“Likewise.”
You were both clearly just trying to prolong the evening at this point. Nikolai took it upon himself to put you both out of your misery and pulled you into his arms again. You gripped his torso tightly, melting your body against his. He held you close, both strong arms wrapped around your shoulder while he tucked your head under his chin. After a moment, he pulled back enough to leave a gentle kiss on your forehead.
“Get some sleep,” he whispered, his breathing a little hard.
“Ok,” you croaked, nodding. Nikolai stepped out of your space then, squeezing your hand one last time before walking back out to the sidewalk, waiting and watching to make sure you got inside safely.
57 notes · View notes
Text
To Love is the Greatest Gift
1. The Return
Tumblr media
pairing: obi wan kenobi x f!reader (past!din djarn x f!reader) characters: f!reader, anakin amidala-skywalker, padmé amidala-skywalker, mentiones of din djarin, obi wan kenobi, others word count: 2.6k+ warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of rent: the musical (death, second chances) uh... I think that’s it? summary: au!it’s never been the right timing for you and obi wan kenobi; maybe this time will be different. a/n: i started working on this story so long ago it’s ridiculous, but I suddenly had a surge of motivation to continue this story after some tragic family news. this was also very much inspired by @martlands and their amazing obi wan stories, made me want to write my own and here it is
all || next
Tumblr media
“You broke up?”
One would think that the immediate reaction to someone asking if you broke up with your significant other would be to cry or begin to ask them what could have possibly gone wrong. But that’s not the reaction you give. 
The reaction you give is just a shrug and a strong pop, as you spoon more gelato onto the little spoon his twins love collecting. “Yep.”
“After only three weeks of dating?” Anakin doesn’t know why he’s surprised, but he is. This is probably the shortest living relationship you’ve ever had. “Why?”
“Why not?” you answer easily, nonchalantly and you know it frustrates him. “It wasn’t working out, so we decided to call it quits.”
Not even a month ago, you had been genuinely excited about finally getting out there and meeting someone new, and even more excited when you were telling him all about this person you met while out with some old friends. You had said, word for word, “he might be the perfect contender!”
Where did all that excitement go?
You sigh, finally looking up at him and away from your white chocolate gelato that's just to die for. “Ani, it’s fine. It just didn’t work out. It happens.”
He grimaces. “What happened between you and Din—“
You bristle at the mention of your ex, narrowing your eyes and his widen in defense. You know what Anakin and Padmé think of him and it’s not entirely pleasant (particularly from Anakin’s part). It’s completely unfair. Din is lovely, sure a little socially awkward, but lovely nonetheless. “Has nothing to do with why Gar and I ended things.”
“But—“
“Nothing,” you reiterate with a bit more force and he sighs, lifting his hands in defeat while holding his own cup of gelato.
“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry.” And then, like a light switching, he turns playful. “Was it his name that turned you off—Gar?”
You resist the urge to groan and roll your eyes. “Oh maker, you are annoying!”
You huff as you make the trek back to the trolley that’ll take you both up to the observatory. The rest of your conversation is forgotten as he navigates it towards continuing to tease you and the latest exhibit you had helped set up.
The Coruscant Observatory is one of the most popular attractions in the city aside from the Exotic Animal Sanctuary (where most zoologist work to help rehabilitate wild animals before reintroducing them back into the wild, only housing the ones that have been assessed to not be able to function in the wild on their own—which are unfortunately many).
Your place of work is known for its large, ground telescope; its monthly constellation exhibits; the multiple planetarium theater rooms that house lectures, activities, star projections, etc.; and its Astronomer Q&A program where visitors can ask astronomers questions and even get a tour of the space station.
However, most of your days are spent in your office, planning for the next exhibit or actually executing them with your team; meanwhile, Anakin spends them in tech, sometimes maintaining the telescope, other times helping with IT issues, but mostly making sure the theater rooms worked perfectly for their 4D immersion.
(You like to joke that out of the two of you, he has it easiest; sometimes he’ll run by your office to get to another part of the building while you’re doing something and you’ll yell out, “slacker” and he’ll respond with, “you just work too much”.)
“Are Padmé and the twins stopping by today?”
“Not today, maybe tomorrow,” he says as you both step out of the trolley along with a few tourists. “I think today they decided to stay for some school thing.”
“Shouldn’t you know what that school thing is?” you chide him out of jest.
He scowls, there’s hardly any heat in it and it makes you grin. “It’s a music performance that the CN Theater is putting on.”
“Ah, and we all know how much musicals bores you.”
“I just don’t understand them,” he murmurs defensively as you climb the few steps leading to the entrance. The two of you smiling and greeting Rex at his security post and bypassing the ticket gate with your IDs.
“You mean you don’t have any taste,” you tease.
“It’s weird! I mean, most of them are all about tragedies and betrayals. What happened to the good ol’ romance and happy endings?”
“Not all of them are tragedies, Casanova.”
The main rotunda lobby is full of people milling about, looking at maps or the foucault pendulum in the middle of the room. Low chatter fills the room, shoes clicking and clacking against the marble flooring.
“Name one.”
Spotting the trash can and recycle bin, Anakin holds his hand out for your disposable cup and spoon and throws them away in their proper bin.
“Rent.” There are probably better examples, but you had been listening to the original cast album the night before and have all the songs still stuck in your head.
“Don’t two characters die?”
“Angel and Mimi.” You nod. “But Mimi is brought back to life by Angel, and is given a second chance at life.”
“She may have been brought back to life, but that doesn’t take away from the fact she died.”
“I’m not arguing with you on that, I’m just saying the ending was hopeful—not necessarily a happy ending, but it left you thinking—maybe things can get better.”
“And that’s not what I’m looking for. I’m looking for—“
“What you and Padmé have?” you ask him as you both reach the door of your office.
He pauses, mouth opening and closing before finally rubbing the back of his head sheepishly and saying, “Yeah.”
You smile, genuine and happy for your childhood friend. Who would’ve thought that years ago when you introduced them, they’d be here years later—married and with twins. You and Anakin sure as hell didn’t. For most of your childhood, you both believed you’d live out your life on Tatooine, hang with the same friends you’ve known since your pre-kinder days and eventually get married to each other—much to the dismay of your parents—because of benefits or whatever, until your parents decided they wanted to send you off to a private school in one of the major cities, derailing your and Anakin’s plan (for the better, if you’re being honest).
“You’re still coming over for dinner, right?”
“Yeah,” you answer, unlocking your office door with your key. “I have a meeting that might go over the expected time, but I should be able to make it on time.”
“Just let us know,” he says, rapping his knuckles against the door frame. “But you better be there! We have some planning to do!”
You roll your eyes and wave him away, promising he and his family will definitely see you at five. With a hearty chuckle he salutes you and leaves the door slightly ajar, just like you usually do. It’s your “you can come in to ask me questions, but knock first, please” visual telling.
With a soft exhale, you drop yourself into your creaking office chair, eyes landing on the first picture on your right—a younger you, only 18, fresh out of your uniform smiling wildly with a large bouquet of flowers that you can still distinctly remember the smell of.
“I am in love!” Padmé exclaimed, squealing in absolute delight at the flowers put in your hand.
Blue eyes crinkled with amusement, staring down at you. “Are you?” His voice was low, teasing and almost smug. He had obviously heard the gasp that escaped your lips when he presented you the colorful bouquet created with your favorite flowers that his father grew in their little garden.
“Irrevocably,” you answered, not able to hide your smile as you gently held it against your chest and smiled up at him. “They’re beautiful, Obi. Thank you.”
Obi Wan’s arm is wrapped around your shoulder, caught in the action of a booming laughter. He was always laughing in pictures. There isn’t a single picture you have of him that he isn't smiling.
Your finger gently trails over his smiling face. Maker, you miss him.
Is he still traveling? Or has he finally settled down again? Will he show up and spring some unexpected news on you again? Stars, you hope not. Shit didn’t go as planned last time and it probably wouldn’t again.
Your hand falls limply and you swivel in your seat, looking out the large glass window overlooking the majority of the city and sigh softly—an exhale of wary hope and sadness.
A bird soars by your window, it’s wings flapping effortlessly, diving before flying higher and away.
He’s not coming back. You know this. Coruscant just isn’t the same anymore. Not when he feels this city has taken everything from him.
One more year visiting Gui Gon without him.
Tumblr media
The meeting runs longer than it usually would, just like you had expected. Checking the time, you let out a curse and quickly throw your belongings into your car.
Without wasting time, as soon as you switch on your engine, you place your phone on the dock and say, “Hey C-3PO, call Padmé.”
“Calling Padmé,” your phone’s AI answers through the speakers of your car.
“Are you outside?” Is how she greets you. There are loud noises in the background, children squabbling about something or another, and Anakin’s weary voice trying to rally them. 
You snort, pulling out of the undergroundparking lot. “Not yet, barely got out of my meeting and am on my way.”
“Please hurry, the twins really want to see you and are dying from hunger,” she says, amusement in her voice and not at all trying to hurry you. “They might start eating Anakin soon.”
“Hey, don’t bite that!” He yells from a distance.
“Hurry, please!” you hear over the phone—Luke. “I miss you,” he says, closer now. Which you immediately reply saying you miss him too, almost cutting off the next voice.
“And I’m hungry!” Leia’s voice follows his, practically yelling into the phone.
You laugh fondly, just imagining the childish glee on their faces at your scandalized gasps and your exaggerated “me too” answers.
“Leia, no yelling,” Padmé scolds her, gentle and kind. “Softer, please.”
“Sorry,” she says. “I’m hungry,” she repeats, softer, almost a whisper.
“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be there,” you promise. “If not, you have my permission to start eating your dad.”
Leia and Luke break into a fit of laughter, yelling something away from the phone to Anakin, who once again lets out a loud, “Hey!”
Padmé chuckles, moving away from the voices of the children tackling their father and their play fighting. “Take your time, we’re not in any hurry to start eating. The kids had a hearty lunch and a snack after school.”
“What about you and Anakin?”
“We’re fine, don’t worry. Just get here safely and we’ll see you soon.”
You end the call with one last reassurance from her and let out a loud sigh when your car comes to a stop behind a long line of glaring red lights—traffic. You hate traffic.
You might be surrounded by blinding lights and different models of vehicles, but it leaves you alone with your thoughts, the low hum of your engine and music from your stereo drowned out by the chattering in your head. 
It’s never just one thing that you think about. It can go from one thing to another, to all of them trying to climb over eachother and be the most present: your friends; your family; the dog next door; Din and Baby; cinnamon apple cookies; the beach house in Naboo; sneaking out of the prep dormitories at 2am with Padmé keeping an eye out and Obi Wan holding his arms out for you; rose gardens and peach tea; freckles on blushing skin; drunken singing in a small living room; 21st birthdays crying in a bathroom stall; that stupid movie quote about choosing life; death; but sometimes (most occurring) it’s Obi Wan that weaves into every thought.
He’s a constant plague in your mind, has been since the first time he left Coruscant in search of himself. 
Sometimes they’re pleasant thoughts, memories kept in a nostalgic trunk that you occasionally like to sift through. Other times, they’re not so pleasant; those are the ones you constantly struggle with, try to push into the recesses of your mind and keep them under lock and key. But for some stupid, strange reason, your mind only ever remembers the bad, even when there are better things to dwell on.
“I just—I just don’t understand why you have to leave—Obi. Obi!” you practically yelled, watching him move around his room, grabbing and throwing things he pulled out into his duffel bag. “Listen to me!” 
He didn’t stop, not until you reached for his duffel bag and plucked it out from his hands. He stared at you, his duffel bag carelessly thrown to the floor with his clothes spilling out. 
Your breathing was labored, a sick feeling swimming in your stomach, words stuck in your throat now that he wasn’t hiding his beautiful blue eyes from you—his devastatingly heartbroken eyes. “I have to,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “I need to leave. This house—this city, it's suffocating me. I can’t—I can’t stay here anymore.”
“Obi… Obi, please.” You can’t leave me. You can’t! Please! Please, Obi.
“I need to do this for me, darling. I’m sorry.”
You should’ve fought harder that night, should’ve convinced him to stay, but instead you helped him pack again with tears obstructing your view and sobs escaping your lips. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have lost him.
No, your breath stutters as you lean back into your car seat, there was nothing you could’ve done. Either times. He had made up his mind long before that night.
A car honks their horn to your left and you jump, eyes focusing once more on the red lights of the car in front of you. You wipe at your face harshly and straighten your spine. 
That was years ago, little one. Shake it off. 
Sighing softly, you look up at the street name and make a turn onto the Skywalker residence street, your shoulders relaxing when their two story home comes into view.  
Shake it off.
Parking isn't easy to find in their neighborhood, not when it’s so close to the observatory and some of the most visited parks in the area, but you manage to find one just two cars away from their house. 
Gathering your things, you lock the door behind you and quickly make your way down the sidewalk, phone in your hand and typing out a message that you’re here.
It’s while you’re hitting send that you don’t notice the body in front of you, staring up at the house with an almost wary expression on his face, or how his eyes widen when they see you. It’s not until you collide into his body, soft with a fleece cardigan, that you notice him. Embarrassment begins to boil in your blood as you quickly apologize to him, berating yourself for not being more aware of your surroundings.
“Kriff, I’m so sorry—“ you start, but the apology catches in your throat when you look up.
“Hello, there.” Blue eyes, so soft and kind, like the ones you once used to dream of stare back at you—so unlike the pair of eyes you saw years ago. “It’s been a long time, darling.”
You can’t shake him off.
Tumblr media
next
127 notes · View notes
abbysfrenchbraid · 3 years
Text
Little Harbor - Beach Day Part 2
Thank you all for the lovely feedback on my writing so far, it means so much to me. I’ve decided that the Beach Day Imagine needed a Part 2 and spent last night manically writing 6.6k words of fluff, angst and semi smut.
In this part, Abby and the reader finally make their trip to Little Harbor and spend the night at the cabin there. The reader finds out they don’t know everything about Abby and there are some things in her past that still weigh heavily on her mind. 
TW for death/loss (Seattle plot for the Salt Lake Squad), light nudity, language and mention of suicide and mention of blood
This ist the playlist I curated for this fic. Make sure you disable shuffle and listen to the songs in order for them to fit! (It’s called Little Harbor on Spotify and has a picture of Abby in the thumbnail)
Little Harbor
The last few days had been a blur of happiness and secrecy. Stolen kisses in empty hallways, sitting next to each other in the cafeteria with your knees touching, sunsets in the watchtower staircase, and sweaty hugs whenever you picked up Abby after her morning training. It was clear to you by now that there was no going back and no stopping this. You were absolutely, hopelessly falling for the tall blonde soldier and she actually seemed to feel the same, which was still unbelievable to you.
Abby had taken up work with some of the combat and strategy trainers, educating them on the different groups she had encountered on her journey and on their territory, tactics, and relationships with each other. Lev had come in to explain more about the Seraphites, their whistle language, and their infrastructure. Even though it was unlikely that the Seraphites or WLF would come knocking at the Fireflies’ door, they still wanted to know as much as possible about the current state of the world.
The Rattlers were a different story altogether. Lev refused to speak about them and even though Abby had told the Firefly leaders about them as soon as she was conscious after her emergency surgeries, there was still much to talk about. She tried as hard as she could to remember every little detail and she got incredibly frustrated with herself when she found gaps in her memory even though that wasn’t her fault. The torture and mistreatment at the hands of these bastards had been so immensely traumatizing that her mind refused to let her remember the worst parts.
While the past few days with her had been all fun and exciting, the evenings had been more difficult and it had taken a lot of strength from both of you to get through this together. Abby was just learning to confide in you and talk about her feelings while you struggled with being there for her the right way, having never experienced anything close to the terror she must have felt. After the first day in the strategy room, Abby had knocked on your door just as you were about to go to bed and practically fallen apart in your arms. The Fireflies had decided to send a few teams back to Santa Barbara to see if there were any survivors and capture or help the people they found, depending on their previous alliance. They had offered Abby to go back with them, which she declined, and made it clear that she had to try to identify every single person they brought back.
You just hoped that the only people left there were the other prisoners who had freed themselves. It would be horrifying to know that some of the torturers could soon be sitting somewhere in this very building, practically at arm’s reach from Abby and Lev.
Although the others had advised her not to, Abby had told Lev about all the plans and tasks to come and he had agreed to help identifying people but remained silent about his thoughts on all this.
Trying your best to make Abby’s first week as an official Firefly less hard on her, you had organized a mission for you both to go to Little Harbor. You were supposed to check up on the little cabin there, throw out anything that wasn’t necessary and stock it with a few supplies in case someone in the area needed them in the future. The best thing about Little Harbor was the beautiful beach that stretched in a perfect arc and had the most beautiful sunsets you had ever seen.
You had just talked to your friend in admin and gotten the confirmation for the mission. For a second, you debated telling Abby at lunch in an hour but you simply couldn’t wait. Rolling up the note with the assignment on it and shoving it in your back pocket, you rushed toward the east wing of the base, practically jumping with every step.
As you came closer to the strategy room, you heard muffled voices. There seemed to be a heated discussion. You really didn’t want to eavesdrop, but you were already at the door and didn’t feel like you should knock and interrupt them in the middle of their conversation.
“Oh come on, Abby, what are you not telling us? You have to know more about her than that!”
“I’m telling you, I don’t know where they lived and I don’t know where she is now! I met them the first time at the WLF outpost in the middle of nowhere around Seattle and the last time I saw her she was in Santa Barbara. She’s probably dead, anyway, she was injured and all alone.”
She? Who were they talking about? Abby had never told you about a woman in Santa Barbara. Maybe another prisoner?
Someone slammed a hand on the table.
“Jesus Christ, I can’t believe we lost her again after all this time. At least we know Joel paid for what he did at Salt Lake.”
This sparked your attention. You knew Abby had grown up at the Salt Lake outpost before the massacre. Was Joel the guy who killed all the Fireflies there, including the doctors?
“What do you want with her anyway?” That was Abby again. She sounded bitter. “It’s not like we have the means to make a vaccine, Joel made sure of that. You’ll see what she did with the rattlers when you get there. Maybe you’ll find her body, too, and I can finally have some fucking peace.”
There was silence for a brief moment. Then a woman said: “Alright, let’s take a break. The teams are driving out to Santa Barbara tomorrow, then we’ll see what we find. Abby, thank you for everything you’ve told us. Take some time for yourself, I’ll call for you when the reports are in and hopefully a few survivors, too. I’ll see the rest of you after lunch.”
You could hear feet shuffling and chairs being pushed around. Quickly, you tiptoed away from the door and halfway through the corridor, then you turned around just as the door opened. Abby came out first, frowning and with her hands balled into firsts. When she saw you, her face lit up and she relaxed, taking a few big steps towards you and awkwardly coming to a halt in front of you, just a little bit too close.
“Perfect timing, huh?” She smiled at you before nodding to a few others that passed you.
You forced yourself to focus and smiled back.
“Yeah, I came to tell you that our mission is approved. We can leave as soon as possible.”
“Oh, that’s great! Martha just said I could have the day off and probably need to report back in tomorrow night earliest. Should we just pack now and get going after lunch?”
“Good idea. Say we meet in the cafeteria in 15?” you suggested.
Abby nodded. “See you there.”
-
As you packed your backpack, you tried to process what you had just heard. Abby knew the man who had run amok at the Firefly Hospital and apparently he was dead now. There had been another woman in Santa Barbara, and she had something to do with a possible vaccine? You knew the Fireflies had been extremely invested in the search for a vaccine after the outbreak, but they had given up on it a long time ago. Now they just tried to build safe zones without any infected in order to build communities of Fireflies, other survivors, and anyone else who wanted to join you.
Why were the others so keen on finding the other woman? What did Abby have to do with Joel and the massacre at the hospital? And why was this whole thing still affecting her so badly after all those years?
You wanted to try to talk to Abby later and find out what had gone down in Santa Barbara and at Salt Lake, but you also knew she had been waiting for this day to finally come so she could get out of here and distract herself for a while. Who were you to ruin this by forcing her to relive her trauma all over again?
Closing the zipper on your backpack and throwing it over your shoulder, you decided to just take it a step at a time. First, you had to get some food into your stomach.
-
Abby was excited about the trip and spent almost the whole meal asking you questions about the bay and the cabin. She told you she had spent some time in cabins up in Washington with her old WLF crew, but it had been snowing back then and the summer here was just an entirely different experience.
Lev was a bit sad he couldn’t go with you, but you promised him a beach bonfire in the next two weeks. He was way too happy about his new friends and tasks to sulk about your little duo mission. The boy was a fantastic archer and was now tasked with teaching his craft to younger trainees and older soldiers. He was delighted at being taken so seriously by adults for the first time in his life. His lessons at school were going well apparently, he enjoyed history and biology a lot.
Abby was attentively listening to him talking about crop diversification and the produce grown here during the different seasons as a group of fully-equipped soldiers came into the cafeteria. They seemed excited about their mission and were making a ton of noise, jeering and shoving each other around as they picked up their rations for the next two days from the serving counter. Abby and Lev both went quiet, poking around in their food and seeming to be holding their breaths until the squad had left.
Lev suddenly looked up at Abby with tears in his eyes.
“Do you think any of the Rattlers survived?” His voice was high pitched and he sounded like he was about to choke.
“Oh, Lev.” The blonde put her arm around his shoulder, her hands looking huge on his small frame. “I have no idea, I’m so sorry. I’m pretty sure the other prisoners were freed and got their revenge. She also freed some of the walkers in the area. It must have been bad. We’ll just have to wait and see, but I promise they’ll never lay a hand on you ever again.”
There she was again, the mysterious woman. Now you’d at least have a valid reason to bring it up. The boy sighed, then he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and straightened up. He waved over to a few other kids waiting at the exit.
“I need to go. Math class.” He grimaced and you and Abby both had to laugh. No one enjoyed math, but a certain basic knowledge was necessary for everyone here.
“See you tomorrow, Lev. I’ll bring her back safely,” you promised him and Abby rolled her eyes at you, but he gave you a genuinely thankful nod before tapping her shoulder as a goodbye and running over to his friends.
Abby smiled at you, her eyes lighting up as she remembered your plans for the day.
“You ready to go?” she asked, standing up and grabbing her backpack.
“Let’s get out of here.” You put on your backpack as well, took your plates and placed them in a plastic tub next to the counter.
In the empty corridor leading to the garage, Abby snuck her fingers between yours, sending sparks over your skin and making butterflies dance in your stomach. She pulled you toward her and after a quick glance left and right, she gave you a soft peck on the lips. You reacted instantly, burying your fingers in her hair and pulling her in for a second kiss, this time less innocent. Abby chuckled and grabbed your shoulder to push you away just a few inches and look you in the eyes.
You felt yourself blush and rubbed a hand over your eyes.
“Ugh, sorry, I just missed you all morning. Let’s just go.”
Grabbing her hand and pulling her with you, you entered the garage and quickly said hello to your coworkers before checking out the keys and leading Abby to your truck. Your colleagues didn’t lose a single word about the hand-holding and you were thankful for their discretion. They were your closest friends at the base and they knew you’d tell them more as soon as you were ready.
The drive out to the cabin took about an hour, one which you spent in blissful silence. You had rolled the windows down again and just like the last time, the summer air was whirling through the cabin and playing with your hair. Abby let an arm hang out of her window and took in the view of the different hills and forest patches, the beaches, and the beautiful meadows. She looked serene, completely at peace with herself and the world.
When you arrived at the cabin, it was better than you had remembered. The little wooden cottage was still in good shape, firewood was stacked up at the back and there was a small front porch with a perfect view of the bay in front of you. Two wooden chairs and a table stood on the porch, completely grown over with moss.
You fumbled with the keys for a second, then you were inside. All the curtains were drawn, bathing the dusty room in heavy yellow light before you opened them and looked around. Abby was still standing at the doorstep, uncertain of what to do.
The room was perfectly equipped with a little kitchen unit, a table with four chairs, a worn-out striped couch, and a decently sized bed, luckily covered with a big sheet to stop it from getting unbearably dusty. A narrow door in the corner seemed to lead to a bathroom. You put your hands on your hips and turned to Abby.
“Well, what do you think? Too dusty for your liking?”
The blonde snapped out of her astonishment.
“Are you kidding me? Y/N, it’s great! It looks so cozy, I think I’m gonna sleep better than I have for months.” She took a few steps toward you and wrapped her hands around your waist. “Especially when I’m sleeping next to you.”
“Oh, I thought you were gonna take the couch,” you said dryly. Abby’s eyes widened and you could tell she seriously thought she had overstepped until you wrapped your arms around her neck and snorted, immediately receiving a playful push backward that you put up with by holding on to her for dear life.
“You’re an asshole,” she laughed, “I got scared there for a second!” She planted a kiss on your lips and picked you up by your waist, making you squeal.
“I’m sorry, Abby, ahh! Please let me down!” you begged but you had to admit this was fun. The taller woman gently put you back on your feet, then she said: “Come on, let’s get settled here.”
She opened the windows while you tried the tap unsuccessfully before pulling the cover off the bed and revealing buttercup yellow sheets. Sweet. Abby used a towel to wipe the dust off the table before setting her bag on it and offering to take yours as well. She put all the supplies in the kitchen cabinet before announcing that she was going to find you some water.
“When you go outside, there should be a pump on the left side of the house. Make sure to pump for a while until you touch the water, it’s got to be disgusting,” you said as you started sweeping the floor with a broom.
“Yeah, I know how a cistern works, thanks.” She rolled her eyes at you. A minute later, you could hear the squeaking of the old metal pump and the gurgle of water seeing daylight for the first time in years. You put the broom in the corner and wiped your hands on your jeans. The bed looked inviting, but the beach called to you even louder. You could feel that this night would have a lasting impact on your life and your relationship with Abby.
After checking on the roof and the cistern, you made your way down to the beach and spent the afternoon swimming, reading, and chasing each other around. One time Abby actually tackled you too hard and you got sand everywhere - your mouth, your nose, your eyes, even under your bathing suit. Abby couldn’t stop apologizing and telling you how sorry she was and how she underestimated her own strength but you swore vengeance for later and laughed it off. In order to get rid of all the sand underneath your suit, you went into the water and took it off before whirling it around over your head and getting Abby all flustered.
You secretly wanted her to join you, but she seemed to be too timid to go that fast so you put your bathing suit back on and let yourself flop down next to her, purposely splashing water on her and making her squeal as the cold drops hit her hot skin. Following an impulse, you rolled over and on top of her, pressing your cold, wet body on her soft, warm back. This time, she forced herself to stay still and not throw you around again, instead resorting to cursing you and calling you an atrocious little eel, only making you laugh harder.
After a while, she gave up on fighting you and you rested your cheek on her warm shoulder, humming in satisfaction. This was nice. It would be even better when you’d lie next to her in bed.
The afternoon seemed to go on forever, time standing still as you two forgot all your worries and enjoyed living in this little bubble of sun, sea and happiness. Then, finally, the sun hung low over the sea, drenching the world in golden light and painting the water orange and the clouds pink. It was an explosion of light and color, the pure beauty you could only find in nature. Or in the person you loved most.
Looking over at Abby, you saw she was also watching the waves and the clouds, the soft light illuminating the tiny hairs on her face and arms and making the dried salt crystals that stuck to her skin glint like little diamonds. Her dark blonde hair was swaying in the slight breeze and her cheeks had a faint red tinge from the sun. She was mesmerizing.
You moved closer to her and drew your nose along her jawline, breathing on her neck and placing tiny kisses behind her ear and on her temple until she was humming and leaning into your touch. She slowly turned her head and grazed your open mouth with hers before running the tip of her tongue over your upper lip. She opened her eyes.
“This really is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. Nothing has ever made me feel like this,” she mumbled without drawing back.
“I’m glad you like it. I’ve been wanting to show it to you for a while.”
“I wish you would have shown me sooner. But I’m really happy you’re doing it now.” She turned her torso towards you and brushed her fingers over your thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You could see the specks of gold in her iris, reflecting the last rays of sunlight and making her look ethereal and otherworldly. Oh god, how in the world had you found her? How had she found you? This was too good to be true, but you wanted to believe that it was, to believe that this moment could last forever.
In a desperate attempt to tell her all this, the beautiful chaos in your heart and your head that started spinning when you were with her, you leaned forward and kissed her. Hard, like you were scared this wasn’t real or it could be your last, then softer when you felt Abby tense up in surprise. She opened her mouth for you and you dragged your tongue against hers, tasting hints of salt and the fruit you had had earlier. You became more confident and placed your hand on her inner thigh which she took in with a gasp before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you closer, her tongue now more forceful and demanding.
You couldn’t take the space between you any longer and crawled on top of her, straddling her hips as you looked down at her face, her green eyes half-closed and her mouth hanging open. The sun had said its farewells and vanished behind the horizon and the atmosphere created by the dusk suddenly hit you full force. Abby’s face was still softly lit by the pink clouds behind you while the sky behind her was a dark, heavy blue fading to black in the distance. She looked like a fucking painting.
“I’m so glad I found you,“ you whispered, running your fingers through her hair.
Abby answered by wrapping her arms around you and pulling you in. She kissed you with a burning passion, gentle but daring, sweet but hot, encasing you with her body and her mouth and pressing you so close that there wasn’t an inch left between you.
As she moved her hands down your body, pulling your hips closer and caressing your legs, she noticed the goosebumps all over your body and halted for a second.
“Are you cold, baby?”
You wanted to say no, but you had to admit you were starting to shiver under your still slightly damp swimming suit and wet hair, the evening breeze dancing around you and mocking you for getting so lost in the moment that you forgot everything around you.
“I really am,” you sighed, “maybe we could get some blankets and food and start a fire?”
Abby nodded and you struggled to your feet, feeling very naked and small all of a sudden. The blonde noticed your change of behavior and immediately got up next to you. She grabbed your books and towels and wrapped her dry one around your shoulders, rubbing up and down your arms a few times to warm you up before pulling you in for a tight hug.
“Come on, let’s get you inside and warmed up.”
Inside the cabin, Abby managed to light an oil lamp and fill the room with a wonderfully soft, yellow light. She slowly walked toward you and came to a halt right in front of you. Gently, she placed her hands on your shoulders and took the towel, placing it on a chair beside you. Then she hooked a finger under the strap of your swimsuit and slowly pulled it over your shoulder and down your arm, never breaking eye contact. Both of you were breathing heavily, the air between you felt like sirup and the world seemed to stop turning.
You laid a hand on top of Abby’s and moved with her, dragging the strap down your arm to expose a slight tan line and a hard nipple standing out into the cold air. Abby still hadn’t moved her eyes from yours, helping you pull your arm out of the strap and slowly pulling down the other one until your entire chest was bare. You could feel another rush of goosebumps chasing over your entire body while hot blood shot into your face and painted your cheeks in a deep red.
You both took a deep breath simultaneously, then you nodded at the tall woman in front of you. She lowered her eyes to your breasts and let out a shaky breath, then she raised a hand and drew her fingertips over your collarbone, down your ribs, and up between your breasts before brushing over your sensitive nipples and finally using both hands to cup your breasts. She stepped closer and bent her head to kiss you. You melted into her, her hands now all over your body, her hot skin on your cold flesh, and her mouth on yours before attacking your throat, making you throw your head back and let out an ecstatic moan.
Suddenly, Abby’s hands were on your ass and she picked you up effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around her waist and held on to her shoulders as she carried you towards the bed, sitting down on it with you in her lap. You buried your fingers in her hair and pulled on it as you ground your hips forward and kissed along her jaw.
In this moment, you felt something shift inside her. She tensed up, but not in a way that felt right in this situation. You let go of her immediately and leaned back to look at her, scared you had done something wrong or she didn’t want this after all.
“Abby, is everything okay?” you asked, your voice sounding strangely loud and panicky in the silent room.
She kept one hand on the small of your back while rubbing the back of her head with the other.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. It’s just - fuck…” You could see tears welling up in her eyes as she furrowed her brows and tried to keep it together. “You just reminded me of someone. It’s not your fault, you didn’t know. It’s just… you don’t know everything about me yet. Maybe it’s time you did so you can decide if you still want me.”
She averted her eyes and let her hands fall to your thighs. For the second time in minutes, you felt strangely exposed and out of place. You nodded, then you stood up and turned away. It felt like your heart was slowly tearing at the seams and pouring blood into your stomach. Why couldn’t this be easy? What was the secret Abby had kept from you? You couldn’t imagine not wanting her anymore. She was everything you had ever dreamed of, the only person that had ever made you truly happy and it was impossible for you to see a future without her. The thought alone felt like a knife to your stomach.
You quickly pulled a big hooded sweatshirt from your backpack and put it on before taking off the swimsuit and slipping into fresh underwear and linen pants. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Abby getting dressed as well.
“I’m gonna get some wood from the back and start a fire on the beach,” you declared into the silence and rushed out the door without daring to look at Abby.
You piled up the wood on the sand, added some dried grass and small sticks in the middle and lit them with a match. The breeze had died down and the fire started at the first try. Abby came down from the cabin with two plaid blankets, a water bottle, and a small loaf of bread from your provisions. She spread one of the blankets on the ground and motioned for you to sit down, putting the second one around your shoulders when you had settled.
She sat down next to you and took a few gulps of water before handing the bottle to you. You were thankful for the cool liquid soothing your dry throat after the day in the sun and saltwater.
Abby took a deep breath, then she began.
She told you about her life at Salt Lake, growing up among the Fireflies, about her father, the surgeon, and the search for a vaccine. They had heard there was a girl who was immune and on her way to them, but only a few people believed it, her dad among them. When the day finally came, she had been out training with her boyfriend Owen and upon her arrival at the base, everyone was talking about the girl and the surgery her father was about to perform on her in order to try to develop a vaccine. There was an actual chance of salvation; everyone was enthusiastic.
Then the shooting had happened. Joel, the man who had brought the girl had suddenly changed his mind and abducted the girl straight from the operating table. He had shot everyone in his way. When Abby ran to find her father, it had been too late. Joel had killed him and with him the last chance of making a vaccine. Abby’s world had been destroyed in a matter of minutes.
That day, she had sworn vengeance. She had started training even harder than before and followed every tip she got to find Joel. The Fireflies had crumbled and she and a small group of friends had joined the WLF. Abby had broken up with Owen and everyone but her had given up on vengeance, but one day she had found Joel and his brother Tommy. She had brought them to the cabin where she was staying with her crew and she had killed Joel. An eye for an eye.
What she hadn’t expected was the young woman turning up at the last second to inevitably watch Joel die. They had left her and Tommy there and seen the matter as dealt with.
Then, suddenly, Abby’s friends had been killed one by one. This was at the same time she had met Lev and helped him flee from the Seraphites. In Seattle, she had come face to face with Ellie, the immune girl from way back and the woman who had watched Joel, her father figure, die at the hands of Abby. She had been the one to kill Abby’s crew trying to find her. Abby however had defeated her and Tommy once more and warned them not to come after her again.
Months after, just as they had made first contact with the Catalina Fireflies, Abby and Lev had been captured by the Rattlers and were tortured for weeks. One day, Ellie had turned up there and helped them escape before challenging Abby to one last fight to the death, threatening to kill Lev if Abby wouldn’t do it. They had fought a gruesome battle, both sustaining terrible wounds before Ellie had given up and let Abby and Lev go.
Abby didn’t know where she was now and if she had survived, and she didn’t care. She knew why Ellie had pursued her and she knew Ellie understood her reasons, too. Still, the loss they had suffered at the hands of the other was unbearable. Abby had lost everyone she had ever trusted or shared good memories with to horrific deaths and there would never be justice. She would never get them back and she would never understand why all this had to happen.
By the end of her story, Abby was sobbing. You had wrapped your blanket around the both of you and your hand lay on her thigh, but you didn’t dare to make closer contact. You didn’t know what to think of all this. What a waste. What a terrible, devastating tragedy. How horrible to suffer this much and have no one to blame, nothing to do with all the pain and grief.
Abby wiped her eyes with the corner of the blanket.
“I think, if I hadn’t found Lev, I wouldn’t have made it. I would have let her kill me. What was there to live for after everything that had happened?”
The thought of Abby dying was the final pull that ripped your heart to shreds. You pressed both of your hands to your chest to assure yourself you were okay, panting heavily as you tried to find something to say. There was nothing you could offer that would make this hell better for her. The realization was crushing.
You both sat in silence for a few minutes while Abby tried to calm her breathing and you tried to calm your thoughts. Finally, you broke the silence.
“I’ve loved Lev from the minute I met him and I’m so thankful he’s here.”
What you wanted to say, wanted to scream into the flames, was that you had loved Abby since the second you saw her, that she had your heart, that this was fucking confusing but didn’t change your feelings for her and that you would never give up on trying to be with her.
“That little boy has the biggest heart I’ve ever seen. He’s been through so much and he had to grow up in the span of a few months, but when I see him smile or hear him laugh or talk about fucking sustainable agriculture” - she had to laugh through a veil of tears - “I know it was all worth it. Every fight, every day in that godforsaken cell, every bullet. He’s my reason.”
Fuck it. It was better to tell her right now than to suffer the uncertainty any longer.
“Abby, I honestly don’t know what to say. I can’t even begin to perceive the horrors you’ve been through and I’m not going to act like I even remotely understand how you feel. What I do know is this: there is no one to blame in this whole terrible web of tragedy. What matters is that it’s over and that you now have the chance to live a life without constant danger and death and disaster. And I’m going to be at your side every day, no matter how long it takes for you to accept safety and peace and maybe even happiness into your life, even if it takes you forever. I have never felt the way I feel with you, I didn’t even know it was possible to love someone this deeply. I understand that you’re far away sometimes and I know there is still a lot of distance between us and you don’t have to reciprocate any of this, but I just want you to know . Know you are loved, know you have a place here, and know I will do everything in my power to help you through this.”
Abby’s eyes had gone wide at your monologue and she seemed completely blindsided by your confession. How had she not seen this coming? Did she seriously think she was just some fling to you? A little summer fun? What was she thinking?
The blonde stared into the fire, contemplating and kneading her fingers.
“Today was the first time I didn’t think of them for several hours. Ever since we arrived, I just tucked it all away in a corner of my mind and decided I could be sad tomorrow because today, with you, I would be happy.”
You held your breath and waited for her to continue, not daring to move or say a word.
“And I really was. Happy, you know? And you’re different, too. Owen was there for me so I was there for him. It just turned out I didn’t care for him as much as he did for me. And that really, really fucking sucks to know now that he’s gone. But I can’t change it. All I know is that I’ve never cared for anyone as much as I care for you. You’re constantly on my mind and I get irritated and impatient when I haven’t seen you for too long, usually meaning only a couple hours, which is a little pathetic if I gotta be honest.”
She looked at you and it felt like she was staring right into your soul. You were frozen, in disbelief at what she was telling you. She held out her hand and you took it, your fingers naturally slipping between hers and closing around her palm. How could two bodies fit each other that perfectly? Abby took a deep breath and turned her gaze to the fire again.
“I still have a long way to go with all this and the next few days are going to absolutely fucking horrible. I have no idea how I’m going to survive that. But with you by my side, I want to try. For you, for Lev, and for all the people I’ve lost. I owe it to them to make the best of the life I still have.”
She lifted your hands to her face and kissed the back of your hand.
“You, Y/N, have stirred something inside me I haven’t felt in years. It feels warm and hopeful and eager to see what the next day brings. And because I know tomorrow will bring a lot of pain, at the moment I just want to see what the next hour brings.”
You let your head fall on her shoulder and she put an arm around you. It had gone completely dark and the fire was slowly dying down, but you were warm and comfortable. The night was singing a bittersweet song for those gone too soon, the trees humming their wonderful tenor as the waves joined in with a whisper, the bats over your heads drumming their fleeting rhythm, and an owl completing the symphony with her wailing cries.
Abby started talking again and telling you stories about her time with the Fireflies while ripping off little pieces of bread for you both. One day, her and Owen had helped her dad free a zebra that had gotten caught in some wire. Her first kiss had been Nora, her closest friend and a brilliant doctor. Leah and Jordan had been the power couple at the WLF, brilliant together but also extremely annoying whenever they started wildly making out at parties or fucking in the bathroom thinking the others wouldn’t hear. Then there was Mel, part of the group but in a difficult triangle with Abby and Owen. She had been pregnant with Owen’s child when Ellie killed her. And Yara, what a wonderful young woman. Lev’s sister had stood by him and defended him when he had gotten in trouble with the Seraphites and she had done everything she could to protect him until the day she died. From that day on, Abby had taken that responsibility.
She also told you about her fear of heights and the trip through the sky with Lev, now laughing as she admitted how bizarre it all seemed looking back. It was nice to hear her laugh again and to finally really get to know her.
When the fire was nothing more than a few smoldering coals, Abby suggested going back to the cabin. You packed up your things and carried them back inside. Abby lit the lamp again while you folded the sandy blankets and put them to the side. Then you locked the door.
As you turned around, you could see Abby standing next to the bed, looking at you. Her features were only lit from the side, golden light flickering over her cheekbones and jaw. Her head was slightly cocked and her hands were restless again, searching for something to hold on to and finding only each other.
“Come here,” she said in a low voice. You felt yourself drawn to her by an invisible string, moving faster with every step until you clashed into her, hands and arms entangling, hot mouths pressed together. She let herself fall back onto the bed and pulled you down with her.
You couldn’t tell if the rushing in your ears was the sea or your own blood, but it didn’t matter. Abby’s calloused hands were exploring your back under the sweatshirt, her thigh was pressed between yours and her heavy breathing joined the harmony in your head.
You paused for a minute, staring down at the beautiful face beneath you, her eyes promising that she was all yours.
“You're so fucking beautiful,” you whispered, then you kissed her again and dragged her down with you into an ocean of pleasure.
-
Author’s note: After receiving amazing feedback from you guys and a demand for more, I’m currently in the process of writing a Part 3 for this! Thank you for your patience 💌 if you’d like, you can support me by buying me a coffee 💛
136 notes · View notes