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gottaluvus · 2 years

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🧸; to infinity and beyond | gojo s.

─── summary; love. love is all he ever wanted, all he ever wished for. desire. he desired to be in the arms of his lover, his one and only. “please.. i’ll do anything, everything to make it so you’re happy and comfortable here, with me.” he desperately pledged, now with his knees on the floor with his mascara running down his face. “don’t leave me. not again, please, not again.” he’ll plead and beg as long as he needs to have [name]. and if begging doesn’t work, drugging and kidnapping will do.

— pairing; god!gojo + mortal!m!reader

⑅ cw; lower case, cheating, worshiper gojo, obsessed gojo [IN PT.2] non-con touching, implied sexual advances, paranoid reader

⑅ notes; boy did this change a lot from the first draft

⑅ chapters; II, III, IIII

it was a sunny, bright day in Michigan. even though a teeth chattering breeze flowed through the air and snow fell from the skies, a smile was still on the mortal’s face. a bright, pretty smile.

he hummed the tunes of ‘after the storm’ by kali uchis while the background noise of this afternoon’s supposed weather came from the radio.

“isn’t he just perfect?” the god of, ironically, marriage and wedlock spoke, his index finger trailing along his throne’s armrest. he peered through the cloud’s of Olympus, watching the mortal closely.

it’d been seven years, three months, twenty-four days, two hours, and two seconds since the start of their relationship, the start of his obsessive worshipping. wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around? no. at least gojo didn’t see it in such way. they’d been together for so long, and gojo only cheating thirty seven times! it's shorter than his record of their sixth year, thankfully.

“oh god, he’s doing it again.” nanami, the god of wealth and prosperity, mumbled, taking a sit of his morning nectar while reading Olympus Daily at the eighteen inch marble table. “is he alright? i’m getting worried!” yuji, the god of creativity, worriedly spoke, it came out louder than he intended it to.

“i’m fine itadori, i’m just taking care of the mortals well being since megumi is on leave for the time being.”

“oh! okay, thank you for telling me, mr. satoru!” even though gojo relentlessly told him not go call him ‘mr’, mainly because he’s still in his early thousands and isn’t old like nanami, yuji still insisted that since he was the youngest, he has to respect his elders. elders, he said! elders! gojo was considered to be over 1,379 years old in the mortals eyes! in Olympus, that's considered to be a young adult!

“i’m going to get some nectar.” gojo said, excusing himself from the throne/dining room, supposedly leaving to be in the comfort of his personal realm. fortunately, he has a decent poker face and was a [incredibly good] decent liar. where was he actually headed to? the ‘waking world’, as the Olympians called it. he just called it ‘the mortal realm’.

without a stop in his walk, he was in front of his fianceé’s company, aka the place where he had a job. why? well, because he’s the boss, darling!

“morning, mr. satoru!” is all he heard from his employers as he made his way to his lover’s desk, a cold mocha extreme, extra creme just how he liked it, with a donut with hazelnut glaze; [name]’s favorite. how did he know? stalking! i mean, watching. watching his lover closely, of course! with a lot of pep in his stride, he officially made his first stop of the day at [name]’s desk.

the smile on his face dropped almost immediately.

“where is he?!” he shouted, looking around the room to see who would dare to speak up and tell him the location of his beloved.

a girl. brunette, short, with freckles and long eyelashes stood up, her head immediately facing the ground. “he’s in your office, sir!” she exclaimed, still standing. it’d been a few seconds of thick tension, the room quiet as a mouse. well, that was until gojo had decided to say a quick ‘thank you’ and be on his merry way to visit his forever.

“[name], you should’ve at least told me you were coming to visit! i brought you breakfast by the way, here.” gojo handed the drink and plastic wrapped donut to the man, their hands touched only faintly. for a quick second or two. but it was more than enough for his heart to skip a beat.

“thank you, mr. satoru–”

“gojo. call me gojo.” his boss corrected.

“–gojo” he said corrected himself, “i should’ve made an appointment, i know, but–”

for the second time, gojo interrupted his employee. “you never need an appointment in order to see me, dear! you can visit anytime you please, darling.”

a faint grimace shown on [name]’s face from gojo’s pet name usage, but he needed to tell him the reason why he had came here to his office.

“—but, i came here to tell you that–”

he wants to marry him and live in Olympus by his side forever?! no wait, that’d be too soon. slow and steady wins the race. he’s.. in love! with him, no one else, hopefully. oh that’d be splendid to hear!

gojo gushed at the thoughts running through his mind as he stared holes into [name]’s head.

“.. resigning.” his letter of resignation was slid onto the sleek, oak tree desk.

RESIGNING? no. no, he couldn’t be. he can’t! he just–! he just.. can’t leave. not again. not after all he’s done! no after all the divine crimes he had committed and covered up for this fucking son of a bitch! my god, [name] was just playing with his heart. all these years. seven years. seven fucking years.

“sorry, must’ve hallucinated, what’d you say?”

[name] titled his head a little, like a puppy, at his bosses confusion. however, without hesitation, he repeated the words again. which successfully embedded them into his brain.

standing up, slamming his hands on the desk, fury with a mixture of mass desperation he shouted.

“NO! YOU CAN’T LEAVE!”

flinch. his lover.. flinched at him yelling. he’s never flinched before. not when talking with gojo, at least. oh dear, what has he done?

gojo quickly covered his mouth with his hands before lowering them to his sides. “i’m sorry, my love. i’m so sorry.” he started to tear up.

“i just, i can’t handle this world without you by my side. i just– i just can’t.” he sniffled in the middle of his sentence, chest rising a little. “gojo, i–” before [name] could speak his piece, gojo quickly interrupted. “what is it?! the pay?! your coworkers?! please! just tell me and stay! just.. just stay!” while saying all this he made his way and rounded the corner of his desk.

gojo took [name]’s hands in his own and cupped his face.

“please.. i’ll do anything, everything to make it so you’re happy and comfortable here, with me.” he desperately pledged, now with his knees on the floor with his mascara running down his face. “don’t leave me. not again, please, not again.”

[name] just sat there, stunned. not again? don’t leave him? he’ll do anything? he can’t handle the world without him by his side? what in the world is going on?!

“gojo, please, let me go..” [name] begged, trying to pull his hands away but ineffectively failing. gojo had no intentions of letting go, is what [name] had thought to be true. “i’ll..” he had to say something, anything, to be set free. in all honesty, he could scream and cry. he knows he can. but it would be useless, his pleads and begs would be ignored. everyone knew not to come into gojo’s office, unless you had a death wish. and unless you were [name], his beloved.

“i’ll stay.” [name] declared.

gojo immediately sat up, his tears still flowed and his sniffles still came, he looked better though. happier. brighter. prettier. he was ecstatic to hear such information. “my love, really? do you.. do you promise?”

gojo held out his pink like a child who’d just been promised the newest batch of toys for their birthday, awaiting for their pinkies to lock. it signifies that they’d be together. forever and ever. and ever. and ever.

hesitantly looking down at the man’s slim, pale pinky and locked it with his own. “i promise.” [name] swore, the look in his eyes was filled to the brim with desperation. not to be loved? no. to be let go.

what has he done?

his life is done. forever.

#x male reader #male reader #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #yandere gojo #yandere x male reader #yandere male x male reader #jjk x male reader #gojo x male reader #gojo satoru x male reader #yandere jjk x male reader

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looooooooomis · 3 years

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FINAL GIRL | FIVE

You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t five | t h e c a b i n (part I)

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 5.6k (I’M SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY) warnings: s m u t (18 +!!!!!)

A/N: after 8 months of MIA, SHE’S BACK BABY!!! this is part 1 of 2 of our fav couple being at the cabin x next chapter will have soft moments I promise lmao

You should have been paying more attention.

If you’d been paying more attention, you wouldn’t have had five sets of eyes currently watching your every move, waiting for an answer you didn’t have. Why had you thought it was a good idea to stay up as late as you had packing your overnight bag for the cabin? If you had gone to bed at a reasonable hour, you wouldn’t have been as braindead as you currently were and, if you hadn’t been braindead, you wouldn’t have wound up in whatever ring of hell you were currently stuck in as your friends stared at you as though you’d grown a second head.

You pleaded with your tongue to say anything, pleaded for your brain to register a decent enough lie to make this uncomfortable silence end but nothing came out of your mouth. Only a pathetic hum and a gusto of forced laughter.

You wanted to die.

It should have been an easy enough answer to what was an even easier question. One that you’d practiced answering for the last two days and yet, as the moment for the lie came and went, you were left scrambling like a fucking moron.

You didn’t dare look at Billy as Sid curled into his side knowing if you managed to catch his coffee-coloured stare, you’d only be met with something between terror and amusement as you royally shit the bed. So, instead, you did the next best thing. You replayed the question over and over again in your head until you were driven mad.

‘Are you up for a movie this weekend?’

It was a simple enough question, one you’d managed to decline easily enough but, as Tatum frowned and asked the one question you were expecting to hear, your mind went blank.

‘Why? What are you doing?’

The answer you were supposed to say: I have to babysit my cousin in Santa Rosa all weekend. The answer they got? Silence. Pure, awkward as fuck, silence.

“Earth to Y/N,” Tatum laughed, brows furrowing. “Are you alive?”

“Sorry,” you huffed out a quiet laugh and shook your head, “I barely slept last night, I’m braindead.”

While it wasn’t a lie, you were still on edge. You’d think after months of sneaking around with the asshole sitting in front of you that you would have chilled out a little more but not today. Maybe it was the nerves of a full weekend away with Billy Loomis as his girlfriend hosted a fucking movie night sans her boyfriend and best friend – but something was making you stumble over what should have been second nature to you.

“You feeling okay?” Sid, the angel she was, asked with a small frown. Your stomach twisted in the familiar way it always did when your sweet friend showed concern. Concern which you most definitely didn’t deserve. “You seem…off.”

It would have been so easy to confess your dark little twisted affair with Billy right then and there. To just open your mouth and let the truth of everything you’d been doing behind her back play out. But you knew it would break her heart and, more than that, you were a fucking coward.

“I’m fine, Sid,” you smacked on a small smile and leaned into your locker. You had one more class until you were home free. Free of your friends’ inquiring eyes, free of Biology, free of Woodsboro. If you managed to get through this incredibly uncomfortable moment. “And I would if I could, trust me. I have to babysit my little cousin in Santa Rosa.” You feigned disappointment with a small frown. You could see Stu’s lips tug up in mild amusement out of the corner of your eye. “She’s nine, so if I don’t come back on Monday, know that she annoyed me to death.”

Randy scoffed and casually threw his arm around your neck. “Every day I’m thankful I don’t have any snot-nosed kids in my family. Losing my weekend to babysit? I’d rather rot.”

Despite your guilt, you managed a small smile as you looked across at him. “I think the kid would rather you rot, too. You’d be a terrible babysitter.”

“She’s right,” Tatum smirked, “you’d show the kid one of your weirdo movies where a girl with big tits is running helplessly away from her killer. It’d scar the kid for life.”

“Or,” Randy mused, “prepare them for the real world. Put some hair on their chest and all that shit.”

“Furthering my point, Meeks, you’d be a shit babysitter.” You laughed. “But, yeah, I’ll be suffering at the hands of a nine-year-old, so you guys have fun without me.”

“How about you, lover boy?” Tatum asked, looking across at Billy. “Will you be joining us this weekend?”

You should have averted your eyes. Should have done anything besides wait, with bated breath, to see what Billy would say. Slowly, those brown eyes tapered over towards you just briefly before looking at Tatum. With a casual shrug of his shoulders, Billy shook his head and leaned into Sid. “Can’t,” he merely said, “I’m going up north with my dad. He wants to get some of his affairs in order or something, I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “All I know is I was promised free beer if I helped him. So, I’m helping him.”

If Sid caught onto his lie, her face didn’t betray her once. And, as she looked up at her boyfriend with doting eyes, you couldn’t help but feel that pang of shame slice into your gut once again. She believed him. She always believed him. Believed you. Regardless of how good it felt to have Billy, that shame of knowing just who it was unwittingly hurting in the process never dissipated.

“You sure you guys won��t need help?” Sid asked, further digging that knife of shame into your chest. “Besides this movie, I’ve got nothing else going on this weekend.”

“Real nice,” Randy teased. “She’d rather watch Billy’s dad punch away at a fucking calculator then sit down with her nearest and dearest.”

Billy ignored Randy entirely as he glanced down at the brunette. “I’m sure,” he affirmed, giving her a quick squeeze. “Enjoy the movie night. I’ll be there for the next one.”

He lied so effortlessly, so casually, that it should have unnerved you. But it didn’t. Because for as good of a liar Billy Loomis was, you were right here with him. This dangerous little game the two of you were playing was becoming second nature to you and for as much as it pained you to see Sidney get lied to, you couldn’t help yourself.

You loved Billy. Billy loved you. Right person, wrong time. Only rather than wait like you knew you should have, Billy’s glow was much too enthralling to miss. You were both moths to each other’s’ flames and no amount of guilt or shame was strong enough to outweigh the otherworldly affliction the two of you had for one another.

The bell signifying your final class rung out, snapping you out of your brief reverie as you blinked and focused on pushing Randy off of you. “Want to drive me to the bus station?” You asked him. “I don’t want to drive all the way to Santa Rosa, so I bought a bus ticket.”

“Tonight?” Randy considered it briefly before shrugging. “Sure, I guess. I’ve got a shift tonight at seven, though. When’s your bus leave?”

“Six thirty,” you lied, mainly doing this so that should anyone drive by your house this weekend and see your car still neatly parked in your driveway, they wouldn’t bat an eye. “I owe you.”

“Yeah, you do,” Randy agreed. “And, lucky for you, I accept a lot of different payment options.” He wriggled his brows, earning a playful smack from you and an annoyed glare from Billy. Thankfully, Randy didn’t catch onto the latter. “Pick you up at six?”

You nodded. “Perfect.”

With your eyes flickering to Billy’s once more, you managed to shoot everyone a quick smile before disappearing down the hall towards Biology. Just how you’d managed to dance your way out of what could have been an incredibly awkward moment, you didn’t know. But as you felt that weighty stare of Billy’s on your back as you walked away, there was an air of excitement that swallowed you whole.

No matter how much guilt you felt, no matter how sick it made you to see Sidney get hurt, even if she didn’t quite know about just yet, there was a much larger part of you that couldn’t wait to get Billy alone.

Because for the first time in the seven months since you’d started this torrid little affair, you were finally getting Billy all to yourself. No prying eyes, no secret kisses, no having to hide every part of your relationship with the man. None of that.

This weekend, it was you and it was Billy.

And you couldn’t fucking wait.

»»-------------¤-------------««

Randy, being the superstar he was, had dropped you off at the station a little after six-fifteen and by six-thirty-two, just around the time the actual bus was leaving for Santa Rosa, you were scrambling into Billy’s car with a wild grin on your face.

Just how the pair of you had managed to pull it off, especially given your brain lapse earlier in the day, was beyond you. But, as Billy tore off down the main street leading to the freeway, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of freedom engulf you the farther and farther you got from town.

It was exhilarating.

And, as you glanced at Billy, who couldn’t have looked more like a movie star with his dark locks blowing with the wind cascading in through his open window, you couldn’t help but reach across the divide to gently squeeze his jean-clad thigh.

“Thank you,” you found yourself muttering and as those brown eyes met yours, you couldn’t help but grin. “For your stupid key proposal. In hindsight, it was very sweet.”

The dimple in Billy’s cheek deepened as his own grin grew. “Glad you let me steal you away?”

You loosened your seatbelt momentarily and leaned across to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Very glad.” You made a move to pull away but stopped when he gently grabbed your chin with the hand not holding the wheel. “What—”

The kiss, while dangerously stupid, was short and sweet but the emotion behind it, the genuine happiness that exuded out of Billy in those few seconds was palpable. “I really do fucking love you, you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it,” you hummed and slinked back into your seat. When his large hand found your thigh, he gave it a firm squeeze that sent shockwaves throughout your whole body.

“Not going to say it back?” He teased, giving you a sidelong glance as he drew nearer to the freeway.

“I’d rather show it.” Rather than put your seatbelt back on, you shimmed in your seat and leaned into him as your fingers scraped along his thighs towards the button of his jeans. “Eyes on the road, Loomis.”

Easier said than done, Billy thought, torn between watching the road and watching you unzip his jeans. Raising his ass out of the seat just long enough to allow you to tug his pants down his thighs, the second Billy saw yours eyes light up as his now somewhat erect cock sprung free of his jeans, keeping his eyes on the road seemed impossible. But, the second he saw that pretty mouth of yours perk up in anticipation, it was game over. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

A low chuckle escaped your lips as you began to pump his length with your hand. “Focus on the road, Billy.”

“You say that like it’s easy.” Not being able to keep his hands off of you, he reached for your nipple and gave it a pinch through your shirt. “Take your shirt off, baby.”

“Shut up and drive.” You chided him, shimming in your seat so that you were on your knees leaning over the console. His cock was rock hard now and, as you ran your tongue alongside his length, from the base of it all the way up to coax your tongue along the precum that had gathered along his head, you felt him shiver beneath you.

“Fuck,” he hissed, tangling his fingers through your hair. You were too fucking good with that mouth of yours.

Still pumping the base of his cock with one hand, you swirled your tongue along the tip of his dick again before taking that perfectly girthy cock in your mouth. His grip tightened on your hair and your eyes watered as he pushed your head down to fully take the length of him inside of your mouth. He heard you gag on him but even as his grip eased up, you continued your pursuit of deepthroating him.

His breathing was shallow as he felt your hot mouth all over him. Between the sounds of your wet mouth taking him in and the occasional gag as you choked on his length, Billy was in heaven.

But having you this close as you fucked him with your mouth whilst still fully clothed was killing him. He needed to feel you. He wanted to feel your juices on his fingers and running down those perfect fucking thighs as he fingerfucked you. He wanted to hear you moan, feel you moan on his cock as he made you feel as good as you were making him feel.

He wanted all of you, needed all of you.

Trying his damnedest not to shut his eyes as your mouth brought him closer to the edge, he reached beneath you to work on your own zipper but when that proved to be impossible, a frustrated growl tore out of his lips. “Undo your pants.” He hissed through bared teeth.

You hummed against his dick which nearly sent him into the other land of traffic. “No,” you purred, “I want to make you feel good.”

With one hand on the wheel and the other now gliding up and down your back as you fucked him with your mouth, Billy couldn’t help but buck into your mouth as you began to massage his balls. He was going to bust and soon if he wasn’t careful.

You were too fucking good and he was too fucking in love with you not to get lost in the way you made him feel.

“Touch yourself, at least,” he breathed out, desperate to see that pretty cunt. “Please, baby.”

Not granting him the satisfaction, you simply dug your nails into his thighs and moaned onto his cock and the sensation of it alone was almost enough to make him come down your throat. It seemed to slither around his cock, making him twitch and buck into your mouth.

But it was the second you moaned out his name as you swirled your wet mouth along the head of his dick one final time, swallowing back his precum with a contented hum, that Billy blew his loud inside of your mouth.

For a good five seconds, he didn’t care if he crashed the goddamn car as he watched you swallow his seed. He was bucking into your mouth, his breathing was ragged, as you guzzled him back and, as you finally released his cock with a pop, Billy almost lost it.

With a devilish grin, you simply wiped a finger along the edge of your lips and leaned back into your seat with a satisfied glimmer in your eyes. You knew you’d be in for it once he got his hands on you at the cabin, but for now, as you watched him lamely try and pull his jeans up his body to cover his slowly softening cock, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s the matter, Billy?” You teased, fastening your seatbelt back up. “You look a little rattled.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he simpered, not bothering with the zipper or button of his jeans. Instead, he reached across the divide and grabbed for your hand as he ghosted his lips across your knuckles. “Just wait until we get to the cabin.”

With your suspicions confirmed, you couldn’t help but beam across at him as you drove further and further away from Woodsboro. That was definitely a threat and good god were you excited for its execution.

»»-------------¤-------------««

By the time you’d pulled into the Loomis family cabin, it was pitch black outside.

The moon was too high in the sky and only a sliver of its light poked through the tall pine trees that surrounded the small house but, even with the low light surrounding you, the shadows that danced along the lake was enough to bring out a small smile as you quietly made your way out of the car. You didn’t need full sun to see the beauty surrounding you and the smell of the fresh air mixed with the spice of pine made any ounce of nerves filter out of you.

You were happy.

Unreservedly so.

Glancing across the roof towards Billy, he seemed almost distracted as he looked around at the familiar surroundings. You couldn’t quite tell if he was feeling as happy as you were in those brief moments, but you couldn’t quite blame him for that. The cabin held a lot of memories within it, many of which you knew included his mother. Where you felt freed and excited, you could tell the weight of his current whereabouts was heavy on his shoulders.

“Hey,” you muttered, slicing into the quietude around you. Walking around the front of the car, those brown eyes found yours as you circled your arms around his middle. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he assured, but his voice was low and distant. All the same, however, his strong arms enveloped you as he kissed your hairline. “Lost in a memory, I guess.”

You nodded into the crook of his neck but said nothing. He needed time to decompress, to familiarize himself with a house he hadn’t been in since his mother left. So, you’d give him that time.

For what must have been minutes, the two of you simply stood at the helm of porch holding onto one another. It wasn’t until Billy placed another quick kiss to your forehead that you felt his arms slowly fall only to grasp your hand in his own. “Come on,” he hummed. His grip on your hand was firm as he walked up the steps leading to the wrap around porch and as he stuck the key inside of the lock and opened the front door, the smell of cedar surrounded you.

The cabin was gorgeous. Wooden slats covered every square inch of the small house and a small fireplace sat at the front of the house with a worn-in couch and chair facing it. It was obvious nobody had come to visit for quite some time judging by the dust lining most of the countertops and shelving units, but you didn’t care.

To you, it was perfect.

Your own little oasis with the boy you loved without any sort of outside interruption.

You released his hand to take a brief look around the small living space but you could feel his eyes on you with every step you took. You knew he was looking to get even with you after your little stunt in the car, but you also knew that he hadn’t quite been expecting the swell of emotions to hit him upon driving up to the cabin. So, you continued to wander around the cabin to both grant him the space he may or may not have needed and, simply, to snoop around.

There were family pictures lining the tables and one in particular made you smile as you caught sight of a young Billy swinging from a tire swing. With a quiet laugh, you picked the frame up and surveyed it with a fond smile on your lips. “Cute,” you remarked, looking across to catch his stare. “A little model, eh?”

Billy watched you carefully place the frame down on the table before continuing on with your self-guided tour. No matter how hard he tried, regardless of the bittersweet memories swirling around inside of his brain, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Not that he ever really could, but there was an ease rolling off of you tonight, coming off of you in waves, that drew him in.

“I’ve been thinking about this all week, you know that?” He remarked, leaning against the back of the couch as he watched you pick up another picture frame. “Just me and you. Out here alone in the woods for an entire weekend.”

“Sounds like a scary movie when you put it that way,” you goaded with a wink. “Or a really niche porno.”

“Why not a bit of both?” His molasses coloured eyes glimmered mischievously as you walked up to him and stepped between his legs. The second you were close, he pulled you flush against his chest and kissed the tip of your nose as he pushed your hair back and away from your face. “Both could be fun.”

You grinned. “I’m down for anything,” you shrugged. “So long as you promise to take me on an actual date tomorrow. We’re not just fucking like bunnies inside of the cabin all weekend.”

“Heaven forbid,” he leaned in and gave you a slow, torturous kiss.

“I’m serious, Billy,” you moaned.

Pulling away from your mouth, Billy nudged his nose against yours and nodded. “The entire population in Bumfuck, California will know you’re my girl by the end of the weekend,” he avowed, skimming his hands down to your ass to give it a firm squeeze. “I promise.”

“Oh, yeah?” You hummed, kissing him again.

His calloused hands slipped beneath your shirt and scraped up your side. “Yeah.” Digging his hips into yours, he gave you one last kiss before nodding towards the bedroom. “Take your clothes off.”

You giggled as he slapped your ass to steer you down the narrow hallway. “And if I don’t?”

“I’ll rip them off of you,” he simply said, “so either they remain in one piece or I ruin your outfit.”

You glanced down at your jeans and tank before frowning. You looked cute tonight and you’d be damned if the bastard ripped them. So, being the good girl you were, you held his stare and slowly slinked out of your clothes. His eyes seemed so much darker as he watched you strip and the small smirk he wore slowly fell into a hungry thin line as you then perched yourself on the edge of the bed, completely nude.

“You just going to stand there looking pretty or are you going to do something about this?” You slipped your fingers between your thighs and ran your fingers along your swollen clit. A low moan slipped out of your lips at the sensation. “I’m already so wet for you, Billy.”

Slowly, Billy stepped towards you and undid his belt. Leaning down, he kissed you, hard, and steered you backwards on the bed beneath you until your head reached the soft pillows. You could feel his cock straining against his jeans but rather than grant himself any sort of reprieve, you watched him gently grasp your hands and raise them above your head only to wrap his belt around your wrists.

In the blink of an eye, you were tied to the bedposts.

“Is this payback for the car blowie?” You laughed, looking up at your restrained wrists. “If it is, I can’t say I’m mad about it.”

“You wanted something between a horror movie and a niche porno, remember?” He hummed against your skin, placing sloppy kisses along the vein that ran along your neck as he pinched your nipple. “God, you’re fucking perfect. You know that?”

He bit down on your collarbone, kissing his way down your chest until his warm mouth wrapped around your nipple. You could feel his teeth slither along your breast as his tongue lapped expertly on the sensitive bud. You hissed, arching into his mouth as your wrists, on instinct, fought for freedom. “Hardly.”

His eyes met yours as he slowly released your nipple. You were in nothing, of course, but he was still fully clothed, and you hated him for it. You hungrily eyed the bulge in his jeans as he propped himself up on his arm, letting his other hand glide up your chest and neck until it cupped your cheek. His nose brushed against yours, nudging it up to allow his lips to hover just over yours. Close enough that you could almost taste them, but much too far away to satisfy the hunger you had for the man.

“I love you,” he whispered, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek as his warm, brown eyes swallowed you up. “You know that, right?”

“Yes,” you swallowed hard and tilted your head up just enough to finally catch his lips. But, just as quickly as it happened, the man pulled away and let his hand begin to roam down your body. His mouth was at your ear now, nibbling at your earlobe as his hot breath slithered against your neck. You shivered. “I love you, too.”

His voice was gruff in your ear. “I’d kill for you,” his hand continued its journey down your throat, brushing past your nipple, down the length of your stomach until reaching the small smattering of hair along your mound. He was careful to keep his hands from dipping any lower, tormenting you as best to his ability, which just about killed you, if you were being honest. “You know that?”

Bucking your hips up, you nearly growled at the lack of attention you were receiving. You were soaked and touch-starved for him. His fingers, his mouth, the erection currently poking into your thigh, anything. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” you managed a quiet laugh. “But I appreciate it.”

His teeth bit down on your neck again. “But, I would. I’d do anything for you, sweetheart.”

His hand slipped further down to your sopping cunt and as he slowly slipped his fingers through your wet folds, the moan he got in return nearly killed him. “Billy,” you whispered desperately. It felt as though you were going to die if you didn’t feel him inside of you. “Please.”

His lips hovered over yours and on instinct, you caught his bottom lip between your teeth and bucked your hips against his hand. He snarled as you bit down on his lip but as the metallic taste of blood met his tongue, it was as though Billy was transcending. His pace on your clit quickened but it was still too slow for you and he knew it. He was torturing you, killing you, and he was enjoying every second of it. Struggling against the belt, your struggle was all for naught as it didn’t so much as move an inch.

“You’d love me, no matter what, right?” He asked, slipping one of his fingers inside of you as he kissed his way down to your chest. Lapping at your nipple, Billy was gentle at first before biting down hard enough to draw blood. Tit for Tat.

“Yes,” you moaned. Your entire body was on fire as his fingers brought you closer to the edge. “But I’d love you even more if you fucked me. You’re killing me, Loomis.”

Licking up the small trail of blood off of your tits, Billy hummed against your nipple and added another finger inside of your pussy. He’d fuck you soon but right now, he needed to feel your entire body light up the way it always had when he drove you into that fit of madness. You were a woman unhinged in the bedroom, he knew as much, and he knew exactly how to get that animal inside of you out.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he admired, reaching his hand up to coat your tit in your own slick. When it was sufficiently wet, he licked your juices off of your breast and growled. God, you tasted so fucking good. “You’re my girl, Y/N, you’re always going to be my girl, right?”

You looked up at him as those words fell from his lips. His brown hair hung down his forehead, his neck red from the strain of having to watch you writhe beneath him without doing a damned thing about it. But what struck you was the look of vulnerability in those brown eyes. That longing, far-away look as his eyes searched yours.

He wanted nothing more than to hear you say that you wanted him. Needed him. Just as much as he needed you.

“Always,” the answer tumbled out of your lips before you so much as thought twice. “I’m your girl, Billy.”

His mouth caught yours in a bruising kiss. Finally, his pace quickened inside of you as met your throbbing core with his dept fingers. With his thumb circling your clit, he dipped two fingers inside of you and grinned against your mouth as you let out a low, desperate moan.

It happened so fast after that. One moment, you were the one tied up on the bed and the next, he’d released you, stripped himself naked, and managed to flip you over so that you were the one on top of him, straddling his waist. Pulling away from you mouth, Billy’s eyes darkened as he saw that familiar glimmer in your eyes. That animalistic side of you was out in full force now.

“Get up here.” He demanded.

You smirked and leaned across him so that your lips hovered over his. “Why would I want to do that?”

He leaned up, the veins in his neck swelled against his neck as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth. “Get. Up. Here.”

Releasing your lip, Billy watched you smirk and crawl up the remainder of his body until your pussy was less than an inch away from his mouth. Grabbing onto the metal of the headboard you’d just been tied up to, you gasped as Billy’s tongue slid into your folds. Finding your clit instantly, you moaned and allowed your eyes to fall shut as you reached down to play with your hardened nipples.

Fuck, what Billy could do with his mouth should have been illegal.

He sucked and lapped at your clit as you rocked back and forth against his mouth. His fingers dug into your hips, so much so that you knew there would be bruises in the morning but, blinded by the pleasure between your thighs, you couldn’t care less.

The moans that were coming out of you were raw and guttural and, as you played with your own tits, envisioning his hands being the ones to squeeze and nip on the swollen buds of your nipples, you saw stars.

“Fuck,” you moaned out, “Billy, baby, fuck.”

He pulled your hips further down so that you were sitting on his face. Not just hovering but sitting on that perfect mouth of his as he held you in place. You knew it must have been hard for him to breathe but he was adamant and as his tongue continued its assault on your throbbing cunt, you came devastatingly hard and incredibly loud.

Stars danced behind your eyes as you continued to ride out your orgasm. When you couldn’t take another second of Billy’s skilled tongue, you climbed off of him only to feel his large hands take hold of your hips again.

Swinging you around so that you were on your back and he was the one hovering over you, Billy wasted no time in slipping his rock-hard erection into your soaking pussy.

He was thrusting hard and the sounds of your juices squelching with every thrust of his cock would have been off-putting if it hadn’t been for the raw, primal need coursing off of the pair of you in waves. He was kissing your lips and biting them and suckling your neck as he continued to rail into you with all of passion in the world. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen him this riled up and you had to admit it was inherently sexy seeing him so affected by you.

Not surprising in the least, it didn’t take him long to come. You’d riled him up to the point of no return in the car and, as you felt him come inside of you, you all but laughed when he dramatically crashed on the bed beside you.

Sweat glistened over every inch of body and the sheen of your juices was still on his lips as he kissed you. This kiss was slow, methodical. Sweet. And you felt yourself fall even harder for the man as he broke the kiss and gently brushed your hair away from your now damp forehead.

Wrapping one arm around your chest, Billy held you against him as he propped himself against the headboard. You were both naked and sweating and while a shower was something you both definitely needed, neither of you found yourselves all too willing to move out of the other’s embrace.

“Is it hard being back here?” You asked, listening to his heart beating in his chest.

“For a second, maybe,” he admitted, soothing your hair down. “Not now.”

“What’s changed?” You asked with a small smile. “The sex was that good, huh?”

A quiet chuckle shook his chest as he kissed the top of your head. “I think horror meets niche porn is my new favourite genre.”

Kissing his naked chest, you grinned into his body. “Same.”

1K notes · View notes

things-we-cant-say · 3 years

Text

pretty little liar

Pairing: Ten x Female!Reader

Summary: In order to get your annoying ex off your back, you tell a little white lie that takes an unexpected turn.

Genre: College!AU

Warnings: Smutty smut, dirty dancing

Word Count: 4,867

A/N: Unable to withstand Ten’s power any longer, I had to start writing about him…or a version of him anyway. Hope someone out there enjoys my first dip into the ~imagines~ pond. ☺️

The party was in full swing by the time you and your best friend Amy arrived, the music so loud it could be heard down the street. It was a wonder the cops hadn’t broken it up yet but hey, the night was still young. Ducking through the arched doorway with Amy hot on your heels, you let her guide you into the foyer where you both stopped to take in the scene. The place was packed with people dancing, drinking and laughing—everyone apparently having a great time. Which was perfect for you because all you wanted to do was blow off a little steam and pretend you hadn’t spent the day fantasizing about committing the perfect murder.

You enjoyed school for the most part and you enjoyed your classes, but really you couldn’t wait for it all to just be over. Two extra years and your master’s degree in linguistics was almost within your grasp. You still weren’t one hundred percent what you planned to do with it (teaching was definitely out) but either way you were ready to dive into the real world. To no longer be stressed out about exams and papers and boring ass professors that constantly seemed to have a stain on their tie.

And to get far, far away from your stupid ex, Adam.

“Uh oh you have murder face,” Amy said as she peeped around to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shrugged. “Just in my head I guess.”

Amy hummed. “I get it. That’s why we are here though! To get fucked up and do something we regret in the morning.”

You laughed. “Guess we’re Uber-ing home.”

She grinned and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to a table loaded with different types of alcohol. The guy ‘tending bar’ as it were winked as you two approached. “What can I get you for?”

“Something with alcohol but where we can’t taste the alcohol!” Amy exclaimed happily. “Oh! And if you’ve got any little umbrellas I’d like one of those too.”

He did finger guns and proceeded to cook something up in two red cups, sticking in two pink umbrellas when he was done. You and Amy took your drinks and after a cursory sniff, took a sip. The tequila wasn’t as strong as with a single shot but you could still detect it just not enough to make you stop drinking. Unlike Amy you didn’t plan to get completely fucked up but you weren’t going to say no to a nice buzz.

Cups in hand you migrated onto the dance floor and fell in with everyone else, bopping to the beat and scream chatting over the loud music.

“I really needed this!” Amy yelled. “Statistics is kicking my cute little ass!”

“I know what you mean!” You shouted. “But hey! Soon we’ll be done and actual jobs will be kicking our cute little asses!”

Laughing, Amy bounced up and down, sending her blonde hair flying. “Is that why you’ve been so grumpy lately? Or is it…he who shall not be named?”

With a sigh you took a big sip of your strawberry margarita. “Yeah. He keeps fucking calling me and leaving me these stupid ass messages, apologizing and shit. I’ve blocked him but he just uses someone else’s phone.”

Amy’s eyes stretched wide. “That’s like stalker behavior! Or maybe he really is sorry for what he did.”

You snorted. “Sorry for having sex with his ex in the backseat of my car? As far as I am concerned he can take his ‘sorrys’ and shove them so far up his ass they come out his mouth as safaris!”

Amy choked a little on her drink, hitting you hard on the arm in admonishment after she stopped coughing. “I hate you! I could have died!”

Her words made you smirk. “But did you? No but for real, fuck Adam. Fuck Adam and anyone who even looks like Adam!”

“Woo!” Amy threw both hands up into the air, yelping as liquid sloshed down onto her head. “Oh shit! Drink emergency I’ll be right back!”

Before you could say anything, she turned and hurried back towards the drink table. Alone in the middle of a dancing crowd, you didn’t know whether you should slink over to a corner or just keep dancing. That last thing you wanted was some random dude trying to groove with you. Of course if you decided to hold up the wall nothing would stop some random dude from trying to hit on you either. At a bit of a loss you drained the rest of your drink and did a I don’t really know anyone two step, hoping Amy would return soon.

The tequila settled nice and warm in your stomach, making you feel more at ease. Most of the people at the party were from your school but not ones you associated with on like, a daily basis. Sure you recognized a few faces from the library or cafeteria but there was no one you’d had more than a surface conversation with.

And then your eyes landed on him. Ten.

Ten was a…different sort of person altogether. He was the kinda guy CW shows thought actually existed in college, except he was very real. And very much fucking gorgeous in that unattainable way CW shows also loved. However, that sort of did him a disservice because as far as you knew, he was just a decent guy who happened to be able to do some pretty awesome things.

For example, he was an amazing dancer. The kinda dancer that just freaking mesmerized you when he moved. Had you wondering how in the hell had he taught his body to do that shit? One minute he was in total sync with everyone else and the next he was performing his solo and blowing your mind. He’d done some show a few months ago with a friend and you’d nearly flipped out of your chair watching him work. The body rolls, the attitude, the way he’d just commanded the stage…whew. Was it possible to be a fan of someone who wasn’t famous?

Then there was his art; things he designed himself or drew from memory. Art class was essentially where you’d sorta came to be acquaintances with him. You weren’t exactly good at drawing but you liked it enough that you wanted to improve, plus it helped you de-stress after particularly hard days. Ten on the other hand excelled and just like with dancing, it was interesting to watch his process. He’d described himself as a sensory artist so he wasn’t always as concerned with the end product as the professor sometimes wanted him to be. From your eye though he’d yet to create anything that wasn’t remarkable. In fact, more than once you’d wanted to ask him to design a tattoo for you, but felt it would be kinda weird. He had no idea what you were into after all. So far your conversations with him had consisted of colors and that one time he’d asked to borrow one of your brushes.

You were pretty sure he’d sold something to an art gallery.

Anyway so Ten could dance and he could draw and he could sing and he was fluent in several languages; as far as you knew the only thing he was kind of shit at was cooking. But who hadn’t set a class kitchen on fire once or twice? Or three times…

If he were an asshole—well people would probably still crush on him—you’d count that as a major flaw and want to keep your distance. But the kicker was that he could do cool things and he was nice. Dorky even especially when it came to cute animals. Was always posting pictures of himself at the animal shelter playing with the kittens and the puppies, or just acting like an idiot with friends. Yet it was that confidence that made him seem untouchable, and also made him sexy as fuck. More than once you’d fantasized about biting his Adam’s apple.

Heh.

Shaking your head, you fanned lightly at your face with both hands. Maybe stepping outside for some fresh air would be a good idea.

“Y/N!” Amy nearly tripped over her pretty sandals in her hurry to get back to you. “Weewoo weewoo weewoo!”

“Um…”

She grabbed your shoulder. “It’s a police siren! We have a code red situation here, I repeat a code red! Adam just walked in!”

“What?” You blinked and immediately looked towards the doorway, brows narrowing when you saw she was right.

Standing there in a white t-shirt in his formerly handsome glory was your ex-boyfriend, Adam. Once upon a time you’d thought the world of him; thought he was the kinda guy you could probably marry someday. The kinda guy you’d introduced your family to. Turns out he was the kind of guy that hooked up with his ex in your car repeatedly until finally being caught in the act. Sure it had been gratifying to make him and her walk home half naked but it had done nothing to quell the pain left behind. Thankfully though your pain quickly turned to anger and now you usually focused on not murdering him when he popped up. There was a lot you could forgive but cheating was firmly in the do not cross zone. Everything you’d felt for him evaporated the moment you saw him with her.

And he’d promised he was over her. Lying piece of shit, you thought to yourself.

“What the hell is he doing here?! Does he even know anyone here?” you asked with a frown.

“I dunno!” your friend said slowly. “It’s possible, big campus and all. Do you want me to help you climb out of the bathroom window?”

“Yeah my boobs aren’t fitting through one of those skinny ass windows,” you replied wryly. “Though to be honest I’m almost willing to risk it. C’mon let’s—”

It was too late. Adam spotted you like an arrow searching for its target, eyes registering shock and then elation. He reached you in three quick strides, opening his arms for a hug that he was damned crazy to expect. “Y/N. Wow you—you look amazing. I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

You huffed. “I’m not. I told you we’re over Adam. Or does me blocking your calls not get the message across?”

He exhaled deeply. “Look I know I messed up but I’m sorry. Classes were just really tough and—and Lucy and I would reminisce about old times…”

“Do I look like I give a shit? You cheated on me and we’re over.” The lie came so easily. “Besides, I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah!” Amy poked him in the chest. “She’s moved on so suck it!”

Adam arched a brow. “You’ve moved on?” He sounded skeptical and that made your blood boil. “Since when? And with who?”

You’d once heard that Hippocrates came up with the saying drastic times call for drastic measures though it wasn’t something you’d be willing to bet money on. However, standing there with your ex eying you like he just knew you were lying brought a whole new meaning to the idiom. You would one hundred percent be damned before giving him the satisfaction of gloating.

Tequila’s kicking in…

Without missing a beat, you put a hand on your hip and motioned to Ten. “Him. I’m seeing him.”

Amy made a sound like a cat having its tail stepped on while Adam gaped at you. “What? I—no. No way. You’re totally lying. I’ve seen the people he’s dated and you’re not his type at all.”

This bitch.

Twirling on your black heels, you strolled across the room to where Ten sat in an arm chair, chatting with a few of his friends. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you straddled his lap and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know this is awkward as fuck—I’m so sorry—but if you just play along I will owe you big time. I’ll give you anything. You need a kidney? You can have a kidney.”

Ten’s friends had gone mute and as you sat back to gauge his reaction—or to possibly be thrown off of him—you bit your full bottom lip. His dark eyes were watching you calculatingly, his own lips pursed together like you were a riddle he needed to solve. Up close he was utterly breathtaking, all smooth skin and silky black hair that fell artfully across his forehead. He smelled incredible.

And then he spoke.

“There you are baby,” he said wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’ve been looking for you.”

That was when you figured you owed him your first born but it was fine. “Well, you found me. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He chuckled. “You’re worth waiting for.”

His friends still looked confused though they didn’t have time to voice their opinions. Adam stalked over seconds later like a man on a mission. “So it’s true? You and Y/N are together?”

Ten tilted his head to the side and you saw the moment the lightbulb went off for him. “Yeah we’re together.”

Adam huffed. “Since when? For how long? Where did you two meet?”

Ten smirked. “Are you taking a survey or something?” He brushed his lips across your jaw, making you shiver. “The only thing that matters is that she’s mine. Let’s dance, Y/N.”

“I would love to,” you replied with a smile. You were also grateful he’d remembered your name.

You climbed off of his lap and took his hand, sending Adam a you thought look before pulling Ten out into the thick of the crowd. Your heart was beating a mile a minute but you felt too giddy to pay much attention to it. Plus, you knew Adam was watching you like a hawk and you didn’t want to let on how nervous you actually were. If he found out you were lying he’d never leave you alone and consider you pathetic to boot. Besides the nice buzz that was finally creeping down your spine told you everything would be fine. How could it not be?

Ten’s hands settled low on your hips and he gave you a little tug, pulling your back to his chest. You fit rather perfectly with him, his chin brushing the top of your head. Picking a rhythm in the song that thumped with bass, you began to move together. You rolled your ass against him and leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, focusing on his breath as it ghosted across your neck. A silver of light wouldn’t have been able to get between you.

Normally you wouldn’t have dared to do something like this with a near stranger but your desire to make your ex suffer was bigger than your nerves. Besides Ten appeared to be all in on the ruse; his body twisting and curving in sync with yours, fingers on his right hand sliding up between your breasts to wrap lightly on your throat. His teeth nipped at your earlobe and you gasped. Reached around to his side to clasp his shirt for an anchor. You heard him chuckle and suddenly you were spun away from him only to be reeled back in, this time face to face.

The room felt like it was two hundred degrees. You weren’t exactly wearing much—a slinky black dress with tiny ties at the hem—but even that seemed too much. Without missing a beat though you and Ten continued to grind with one another, his thigh just barely pushed between your own. Every time you swayed forward to meet him the denim of his jeans rubbed deliciously against you, sending sparks sprinting through your veins. Both of his hands were on your ass as if helping to guide you, and as you met his gaze you couldn’t help but bite your lip at what you saw there. Desire, lust, hunger—no one had ever looked at you like that before. Like they could just devour you and still not have enough of you.

It made you feel powerful.

You grinned and wrapped an arm around his neck, fingers giving his hair a little tug. He hissed and lowered his head so that he could mouth at your bare shoulder, hands squeezing your ass so hard it nearly hurt. You weren’t sure when you started to get wet—maybe it was the moment you sat on his lap or he decided to play along with your dumb stunt—but you could tell it now. Your panties were sticking to you, your skin was on fire and it was becoming difficult to think straight. Honestly however you didn’t want to think at all, especially not if it meant not being in Ten’s orbit.

“Ten,” you whispered into the skin under his jaw.

He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. You plastered your hand to his chest and pulled it down, nails catching on the thin material of his shirt until they were brushing along the zipper on his jeans. You gave him a quick squeeze—he was hard and straining—and he cursed loudly. Between one second and the next he was dragging you down a dimly light hallway, past kissing couples and one guy passed out drunk in the doorway of someone’s room. He swung you both into the first vacant room he came to; a lavish bathroom at the very back of the house. The door was closed with a swift thump and the lock clicked shut.

You licked your lips as he crowded you back into the counter, looking down at you with a tiny smirk. That part of your brain that yammered on about bad decisions was surprisingly quiet, so you figured it was beyond okay to pull him down for a kiss. As with most of the stuff he did, Ten was a damn good kisser. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue playful and coaxing. He kissed you like he’d been waiting to kiss you for a long time. Until it grew deep and sensual. Until you were both panting with the need for air but neither wanting to let go of the moment.

With a gasp you tilted backwards a bit, your knees suddenly weak. “Fuck me,” you said absently.

“Can I?” Ten asked, chest heaving. “Can I fuck you?”

“God yes,” you replied, already pulling your dress up until it hitched around your waist.

Ten hooked his thumbs onto the band of your pink panties and slid them down your legs, laying them next to the sink. He looked you over with that same eye he used for his art but you could tell he liked what he saw. You grabbed his hand and brought it between your legs, spreading them wider for him. Two of his fingers slipped inside of you without any resistance to find you damp and aching, already so hot for him. He started a lazy rhythm—in and out, in and out—like he was in no hurry at all. Like he wasn’t driving you crazy all the way down to the tips of your toes.

He kept his eyes locked onto yours as he touched you, lips slightly parted like he couldn’t believe this was happening. That rang true for both of you. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever really be friends with Ten, let alone about to hook up with him. It was like you’d stumbled into some alternate universe.

Bringing his free hand up to your cheek, he smoothed his thumb across your lips, pressing lightly until you let him in. You sucked his thumb into your mouth and gave it a little nip, smiling when he smirked. When he deemed it wet enough, he pressed it to your clit and you moaned, your hips stuttering upward with a will of their own. He began a firm massage, working your clit this way and that, fingers still thrusting in their maddening motion. Of course he’d be great with his hands. Of course he’d be able to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Pressure started to build low in your stomach. “I—I’m…”

“Turn around.” Ten took a step back and made a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick between them like he wanted to savor every drop.

You whimpered but did as he requested, your eyes finding his in the wide silver mirror. You watched as he unzipped his pants and pushed them along with his dark colored briefs down to the floor. You hadn’t seen him pull out a condom but he had one; ripping open the packaging with his perfectly straight teeth before rolling it onto his hard cock. It was a delicious looking thing you had to admit, long and thick with a slight curve. If you’d had the time you would have gladly went to your knees for him.

A low breath shuddered out of Ten’s lungs as he pushed inside of you, his hands gripping your waist so strongly you were bound to have a few bruises later. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

It had been a while since Adam and nobody after him until now.

When he assumed you’d adjusted to the size of him, he pulled nearly out before driving back inside of you. You moaned and pushed back to meet his thrusts, feeling the pleasure shattering through you. Your breasts bounced as he moved and he reached a hand forward, tugging down the top of your dress so that he could cup one. He rolled your nipple between his fingers and pinched, bending over you so that he could bite down onto the tender skin of your shoulder. The motion sent him even deeper and you both groaned at the feeling.

“Te—Ten,” you stammered, losing your train of thought when he rolled his hips liked he did on the dance floor. “Oh fuck! Fuck!”

The picture you made in the mirror was a very erotic one; you could see every single expression on Ten’s handsome face. The utter enjoyment he was obviously finding in fucking you was written all over it; there was nowhere for it to hide. His head was tipped back, eyes fluttering closed only to pop back open so that he could watch himself shove into you over and over again. He had you up on your tip toes, nose just an inch from the mirror itself. He was always sexy but tonight that word took on a whole new meaning.

All you could do was try to give as good as you got.

You slapped a hand onto the sink to steady yourself and clenched around him, reveling in the low whine that escaped his throat. It kinda sounded like your name.

And then he was pulling all the way out, dick bouncing as he stumbled backwards. You blinked in confusion. “Wh--what’s wrong?”

Ten ran his fingers through his hair. “C’mon. I want you to ride me.”

He sat down on the closed toilet seat lid and you straddled him without a second thought, sinking down onto his dick with a full body shudder. With your dress around your waist and your breasts jiggling in his face as you bounced up and down on his cock, he traced his tongue around your nipple before lightly biting down. You tangled your fingers in his hair and panted out his name, letting out a squeak when his palm connected with your ass for a hard slap. Planting his feet on the floor, he leaned you backwards a bit as he drove into you repeatedly, eyes watching how well your pussy took him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone. “Gorgeous—you feel so good.” He bit you again, this time on the side of your neck. “So good.”

With one hand on his shoulder to brace yourself, you rose up and let yourself come down hard over and over again, feeling him pound so deep it was almost criminal. Had the music not been so loud you knew exactly what you would have heard; the sound of skin hitting skin as Ten fucked you like he owned you. Just for tonight, maybe he did.

You weren’t sure how long it went on but when you came it still managed to take you by surprise. Your body lit up like a Christmas tree from the inside out and you cried out Ten’s name, clenching around him, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. He muttered a drawn out fuuuuck and pinched your clit with this thumb and forefinger, making you jerk so hard you nearly tumbled off his lap.

“Ah! Ten!” You shouted as he kept it up. “I—no—oh god—”

Your pussy tightened around him again and he shivered, thrusts growing erratic as he came with a grunt. You trembled through a second orgasm almost in disbelief—usually the only thing that could get you off twice in a row was hidden under your bed in a shoe box.

Seconds later you flopped against him, attempting to catch your breath. He was still rolling his hips just a tiny bit, making all the too sensitive areas ping.

“Whoa,” he said breathlessly, wrapping both arms around your waist. “That was…”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah…” Chancing a look at him, you admired the way strands of his dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was glistening, shirt sticking to his chest. He smelled like hints of your perfume and you smelled like hints of his cologne. It was all so intimate.

Reluctantly you sat back and gazed at him, wondering if things were about to get awkward. But Ten just smiled and ducked his head a little, a barely there blush creeping up into his already flushed cheeks. It was so adorable you couldn’t have resisted kissing him if you tried. From the way he melted into you, he’d had the same idea.

After a few minutes of just enjoying the feel of his lips against yours, you forced yourself up off of him. Your legs shook; you had to grab the counter to keep from tripping in your heels. You could already tell you’d still feel him tomorrow and the thought made you kinda dizzy, but in a good way. Blinking at your reflection—your hair was a dark mess—you knew there was no way you’d be able to hide the love bites that adorned your skin. They stood out stark red and purple like a bruise.

Ten remained slouched on the toilet for a couple of moments before removing the condom and tossing it into the trash. He dabbed at his dick with a handful of toilet paper, and then pulled up his underwear and jeans. “So…can I ask you something?”

You fixed your dress. “Sure.”

“Who was that guy?” he inquired with a grin. “The one you obviously wanted to get away from.”

Oh shit you’d forgotten all about Adam! “Oh he—he’s my dumb ex. He jumped stupid at me and I—I wanted to show him that he’s an idiot. That I’m totally over him. I—I’m sorry for getting you involved.”

He laughed as he patted down his hair. “No complaints from my end. I think he got the message though.” Reaching behind you he handed you your panties. “Don’t wanna forget these.”

It was ridiculous to be embarrassed considering what you’d both just done, but you couldn’t help it. You took them from him and pulled them on, keeping your eyes on the ground. “Thanks… Look Ten—”

“I’m hungry,” he said interrupting you. “Have you ever had grilled dried pollack?”

“Um yeah once I think,” you replied uncertainly. “It was pretty tasty.”

Ten motioned behind him. “I know a place that makes it if you wanted to go. And…maybe afterwards we could just hang out. Talk.”

That sounded amazing. “I’d love to. But…”

He picked up on your meaning. “Y/N I sit next to you in all of our art classes. I make conversation with you for no reason. Do you really think I of all people forget my brushes? Honestly I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while but you’ve always seemed…disinterested.”

You were dumbstruck by his admission. “Me?! That’s just my face! You’re the unattainable ingénue or whatever!”

Ten chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh please the only thing standing between me and being a serious cat dad is having an apartment that allows animals. However, this conversation is pointless. You owe me and I’m collecting…if that’s okay?”

You huffed but couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s perfect.”

The walk from the bathroom to the living room had everyone staring with a few people letting out loud whistles. Adam had disappeared but Amy was there to give you a big thumbs up. You promised to call her later and then let Ten pull you outside into the warm night air, your fingers happily entwined with his.

#wayv ten #ten imagines #wayv smut #ten scenarios #ten x reader #ten smut #nct scenarios #ten oneshot #wayv imagines #woc reader #wayv ten imagines #ten lee #wayv au #nct au

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superherotiger · 3 years

Text

Safe at My Side (Irondad Outlaw AU)

I know I said I wasn’t going to write any more to this AU, but it turns out I’m a damn liar and I couldn’t resist writing a little bit more of these badass outlaws with their newly adopted child hah. Enjoy!

-Superherotiger

(Warning: Vague mentions of past child abuse)

Ao3 Link

~~~~~~~~~~

After joining the notorious gang of bandits known as the Avengers almost six months ago, Peter had learnt two things very quickly. One, nature was filled with wonderful, beautiful creations, from the land to the animals to the ever-expanding sky that watched over them.

And two, nature was absolutely brutal.

The sun that used to make the air sizzle as he did chores around the stable now scorched his skin like fire as the Avengers travelled the barren horizon in search of their newest camp. Rain that Peter had been able to watch from the safety of a tin roof would now pelt him like bullets, and the icy grip of midnight felt like talons without any walls to surround him.

It wasn’t all bad though. For instance, the stars were so much more dazzling when you could fall asleep below them, lulled by the flicker of a campfire and wisp of the breeze. The mountains and valleys were no less impressive either, calling out a cheer only for it to return to you in a haunting echo, which was something Clint and Thor took great pleasure in demonstrating to the stable boy. And then of course there were the many little towns that they had passed through in all their travels, some to scout out for any potential targets, and others to simply get a decent meal at. Each one had their own personality and charm, and Peter took great joy in documenting all their quirks in a leather journal that Tony had found -which he assumed meant stolen- for him.

So yeah, it was pretty amazing. And even if the road was harsh and the seasons unforgiving, it seemed far less daunting with a team as fierce as the Avengers at his side. The sun less blazing when the Iron Bandit dropped his hat over Peter’s head, and the rain less icy when a familiar black jacket was draped over his shoulders.

Tony never said a word when he made such gracious gestures, and Peter never dared to mention them in fear of him taking it back. Not that the bandit ever would. No, if there was one thing Peter was certain of, it was that the Iron Bandit was a man of his word. The promise he had given the boy to keep him alive, to keep him safe since that night back at the farm had never once been broken, and there was not a day that went by that Peter didn’t silently thank the man for all he had done. For all that he had given him, and more importantly, the horrors he had saved him from.

Those monsters still lingered with Peter in nightmares and shudders from time to time, even within the safety of the team. He always slept on the outer orbit of the campfire so not to be too close to anyone else, and he winced when he felt a touch without warning. Neither Peter or Tony had ever retold the events of their meeting, but the Avengers were quick to pick up on the unspoken tension and made sure to give him his space whenever he seemed uncomfortable. It was just another one of those silent understandings, and Peter was ever grateful for it.

But one night in the dead of winter, Peter was drawn out of slumber by the shivers rocking his body, tugging the fabric of his blanket tighter around his shoulders to fight away the chilled wind. Except it wasn’t his blanket, it was leather, and it smelled of tabaco and oil. A familiar scent to Peter by now as he burrowed deeper into the Iron Bandit’s jacket.

The boy tried his best to fall back into slumber, but the frosty air and damp soil below were determined to hold his attention, leaving him no other option but to sluggishly climb up to his feet and sit closer to the fire. Thankfully there were still some small flickers of life in the flame as Peter crouched beside it, tucking his hands under the larger sleeves of the jacket and trying to rid the ice spreading throughout his bones.

Damn, he was so cold. He wondered how the others always slept so easily in these times. Steve sounded like he was about ready to fall into a century long coma from the snores he was letting out, and Thor’s practically shook the earth like deep rumbles of thunder.

Glancing across the campfire through his sleep-encrusted vision though, Peter caught sight of Tony leaning up against a crate with his arms braced tightly around his chest, shivering slightly without the thick jacket that now encased himself. It made a strike of guilt cut through his previous exhaustion as he stared upon the sleeping bandit, wondering how long the outlaw had been freezing himself to death while Peter had rested soundly.

Pushing himself to his feet, the stable boy paced silently across the camp, mindful not to step on his fellow teammates as he made his way to Tony’s side. On instinct he went to return the jacket, but the moment he pulled his hands out of the sleeves he was hit with another frosty shudder across his entire body. After having the garment on for so long, taking it off felt like jumping into a frozen lake, which was something Peter desperately wanted to avoid if possible.

But that still left Tony just as cold, which wouldn’t work either.

So, for some unexplainable reason, Peter’s mind came up with a solution in the midst of its tired, frost-bitten haze, and before he knew it, he was sitting beside the resting bandit and practically dropping his head against the man’s shoulder with a misty yawn. Tony -as any legendary criminal would- was immediately snapped awake, hand hovering over his holster as his blinked around sluggishly. The initial jolt had caused him to lean forward ever so slightly, but Peter had been too tired to react to such a motion, huffing weakly in annoyance which drew the man’s attention rather quickly.

At the sight of the familiar stable boy, Tony leant back against the crate with a sigh as his arm now hovered awkwardly behind Peter’s back, stiff with uncertainty as Tony searched his gaze. It took a few moments for Peter to understand the silent question in the outlaw’s eyes as the silence dragged on, but the moment he did, he felt something warm blossom in his chest.

Are you sure? the bandit appeared to be asking. He was the only person who knew the root of his nightmares, and the only person Peter trusted to protect him from them.

And so, Peter simply tipped his head to rest on the man’s shoulder again and pressed snuggly into his side, the answer as clear as day as he let his eyes fall shut peacefully.

I trust you, returned Peter’s reply, spoken not in words, but in the silence.

Nothing really happened at first. It was as if a single moment had become frozen in time, which Peter would soon realise was Tony giving him another chance to back out if he so wished. But Peter didn’t want to back out. He wasn’t back at the stable, he wasn’t in that awful place still, wishing he were under the ground with his family instead. No, he was with the Avengers now, and more importantly, he was with Tony.

He was safe, just like Tony had promised.

And so, finally, the bandit eased back against the crate and lowered his arm over Peter’s narrow shoulders, the steady thump of his heartbeat now lulling Peter to slumber as Tony let out a casual yawn. Sleep was quick to find them after that, and the warmth of the other’s presence as they rested side by side began to thaw the chill out of their bones like a flame chasing away the shadows.

And just like everything else that Peter had faced since venturing out into the world, it seemed a whole lot less daunting with Tony by his side.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @joyful-soul-collector @lost-lunar-wolf @lbigreyhound13 @aixabi @zanderljones @iwritedumbshit @anarinette

#tony stark #peter parker #irondad #spiderson #outlaw au #Irondad Outlaw AU #cowboy AU #Western AU #my writing #platonic cuddles #that's right you actually get some wholesome fluff from me for once

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liemonyellow · 2 years

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i’m not calling you a liar - prologue

read on ao3

Summary: Five time Janus apologized to the other sides and one time he didn’t.

Notes: Title is from Florence + the Machine’s “I’m Not Calling You a Liar”.

Warnings: Food mention (Please let me know if there is something I should add as warning)

[prologue] talks

Things were finally beginning to settle down. While it would probably take a lot of time before they all got used to their new normal, they’d at long last taken a step in the right direction. Patton could only hope any future missteps and mistakes would not be quite as fraught as those that led them to this point.

So, when Janus announced one morning that he planned on personally apologizing to them by treating each of them out to a “terrifically wonderful” day, of course Patton was thrilled!

But he also wasn’t stupid.

Frozen in place, his mug inches from his lips, Patton stared at Janus. The other side continued to casually finish up his last bite of toast before starting on his cup of freshly-cut fruit, as if he hadn’t, mere moments ago, proclaimed his intentions to potentially upset the still rather delicate peace between them all, with the same air and attitude he might use to talk about the weather.

Patton didn’t know how he should feel about this development. And neither did the others, from the glances that Virgil, Roman, and Logan had shared in the following silence. (That is, aside from the loud slurping coming from Remus, which he was sure was exaggerated. Probably. He didn’t want to ask what exactly was making the noise, as he’d served the duke the same almost-burnt scrambled eggs, overcooked sausage, and thankfully decent toast as everyone else, and it certainly wasn’t the untouched glass of orange juice next to the creative side’s plate.)

“What… do you mean?” Virgil eventually asked, in as neutral a voice as Patton had ever heard him direct at Janus.

Patton’s breath rippled in his coffee as he took a quick, quiet sip and set down the mug before he spilled any onto his plate.

The crisp crunch of Janus’ apple slice practically echoed off the tension that boxed them in. He swallowed audibly before speaking. “Oh, it couldn’t possibly be exactly what I already said. I just love repeating myself, Virgil, thank you for asking.”

“Oh, come off it, Serpent of Eatin’, you know what he means,” Roman said, gesturing with one hand while he continued to eat with the other, albeit with a bit less gusto than usual.

“While I don’t object to the prospect of an apology, may I ask why you have decided to do such a thing, Janus?” Logan asked, his head tilted in curiosity. “It seems… out of character for you.”

“I assure you, it is for entirely selfish reasons.” Janus primly dabbed at his lips with a napkin. “So, who wants to be first?”

Nobody exactly jumped up to volunteer. Well, nobody except Remus, who threw both arms into the air and bounced excitedly in his seat. “Ooh, pick me! Pick me!”

Janus rolled his eyes, although the effect was ruined by his fond smile. “I was thinking of saving the worst for last, Remus, if you’ll be so kind?”

Remus gave a theatrical huff, folding his arms together. “Fine.”

No one else said anything, but they did trade glances again. Remus returned to devouring whatever mess he’d created. (Where was all the magenta coming from? Was he eating paint or something?) Janus’ gaze lazily shifted from side to side, as if daring his tablemates to speak, while also somehow managing to finish off the last of his fruit without once looking back to his fork. The only thing he needed to complete the picture of a vampiric villain overlooking his unsuspecting victims was a drink in a wineglass to swirl.

The silence stretched on and on. Had it really only been a minute? Patton couldn’t help fidgeting. He stopped tapping his fingers, only to start bouncing his leg. He stopped bouncing his leg, only to start biting his lip. He stopped biting his lip, only to start tapping his fingers.

“Well, I think it’s a great idea!” Patton finally burst out after the tense silence stretched out too long for his taste. “I’d love to get to know you better, Janus!”

That seemed to catch Janus off-guard for a brief moment, the barest hint of uncertainty and fear leaking through his ironclad defenses, but he recovered with a gracious, if a bit forced, smile. “Thank you, Patton.”

Then there was more silence. Everyone’s eyes darted from one side to another, and Patton smiled encouragingly at whoever’s gaze he caught. Then Roman sighed and said, “I suppose I could schedule you in sometime this month.”

“I will have to check my own schedule, but I believe I can arrange for a few spare hours,” Logan said.

“I mean, I don’t know,” Virgil mumbled, “I guess I don’t have anything else to do.”

Janus’ attention snapped across the table to land on Virgil, who looked away from his mismatched eyes.

“I’m not going to force you into it, Virgil. If you don’t want to spend time with me, I’ll keep my distance.”

Several emotions flickered across what Patton could see of the anxious side’s face, but a sharp sigh and a frown cleared them away.

“I just…” Virgil sighed again. “We’ll have to deal with this shit at some point, so we may as well rip off the band-aid and get it over with.”

“My thoughts exactly. Let me know whenever you’re ready.”

Virgil gave an affirmative grunt before standing and shuffling awkwardly back into the kitchen with his empty plate. Patton released the breath he had been holding, heavy in his chest like lead in his lungs. His shoulders slumped from the climb they had taken in the tense climate. He smiled as brightly as he could.

“Well, I’m free tomorrow!” Patton exclaimed, shaking off the last of his nerves, happy that everyone was finally, finally trying to get along.

Janus gave him another strained smile. “Tomorrow is perfect.”

Patton nodded jovially, and they both got up and gathered some of the used plates - Remus’ was suspiciously clean - as everyone else finished their food.

Tomorrow was promising to be an interesting day.

#sanders sides #my fics #janus sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #platonic drlamp #platonic drlampt #cw food

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Text

Push and Pull (Part 5)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, gunshot wound and stitches

--------

A lot of people might think Daphne was cold or heartless. Sure, she had a bad attitude and it was hard for her to form meaningful relationships, but it didn't mean she was a complete bitch. Which is why she felt bad as she looked at the photos of Mr Lee's son, Keiran, and young wife making out. She'd be seeing him later in the week and have to break the news to him. She was planning on breaking into the Keiran's apartment and snooping once he was at work in the day. She still had that gnawing feeling something was off with the adulterous couple.

She'd never had a real relationship herself. She never let herself get too attached. She wasn't sure why, she'd just always been that way. Even as a kid with her older brother and sister, she was the snarky sarcastic one. Her love to push people's buttons left her with little to no real friends and guys didn't like a girl that talked back. She didn't mind. It meant she didn't get hurt. She'd just have sex when the opportunity arose and then wash her hands of it. But she'd be a liar if she didn't sometimes wonder what it would be like. To have that someone who cared. Who treasured her and made her feel special. But then she'd think about how most of her PI work was looking into cheating spouses and how most of the time they had been right. Was true love even real?

She sighed, kicking her boots up onto her table. It was scuffed enough so she didn't care too much. Her boots were paired with a long black summer dress with a slit to her thigh and some thick tights, a black wool cardigan on top. Goth chic her sister Lisa would call it. It made her snort. Her hair was slightly wavy from the shower she’d taken earlier and it had dried naturally. Standing up, she grabbed her backpack and camera and decided to head out to Keiran's apartment. Only this time she was really hoping not to find something.

On her way there, she thought about the guns. It had been a couple of days since the disastrous outing with the Devil himself and the morning after she’d given her evidence to Brett. He was worried, so was she. But it was out of her hands now. And thankfully she hadn't been contacted by Mr Moody to accompany him again. Pulling her phone from her cardigan pocket, she was satisfied Keiran would be out of the house and at work. As she stepped up to the shitty broken intercom at the front, she heaved a sigh. She hoped someone would let her in. Glancing at the names, she just settled on any of them. There was a dull beep as she pressed the button for 'Mr Meyers'.

"Hello?" The sound of an old man sounded.

"Hi there, would you be able to buzz me in please?" She asked politely. She bit her lip holding her breath as she prepared to think of an excuse for him.

"Annie, is that you?" He asked, sounding confused.

"Mhm," she lied, rolling her eyes and getting impatient.

"You forgot your key again, dear? I keep telling you to make another," he chuckled through the intercom.

"I know. I'm just forgetful I guess," she snorted. The shrill buzz almost startled her, that had been so easy. Thank God for Mr Meyers. She slipped inside and jogged up the stairs to the third floor. Her steps were light as she tried to listen for any noises. She didn't need anyone suddenly appearing and wondering why a weird girl was on their floor. She idly wished she had Matt's super hearing. It sounded quiet though and she got to the door she was after.

A few quick moments with her lock pick set and it was open. Her search was quick and efficient. Always making sure to put things exactly where they should be. She felt like she'd searched everywhere and hadn't found anything. She knew she should have felt relieved but she couldn't shake that nagging feeling in the back of her head. She stood for a moment, closing her eyes as she tried to think where something would be. When she opened her eyes again, they glanced around until they settled on a piece of modern art of the wall. She wasn't a fan of the modern stuff. It looked like a toddler just threw paint on a canvas. Her art preference was the more detailed skilled work. She padded over, lifting it from the wall. Sure enough, behind the canvas was a safe.

"Bingo," she muttered.

It took longer than she liked to crack it, but she did in the end. She wasn't happy with what she found. Along with a handgun that had the serial number scratched out, she found copies of Mr Lee's life insurance. It was for $2 million and it would be split between Keiran and Mr Lee's wife. She started to see just why this guy was getting in her pants. Were they planning something together? Or did she have no idea she was being pulled into this? She snapped some pictures quickly before putting everything back where it should be. Before long she was on her way home again with a bad feeling. It wasn't concrete evidence of any plans but she'd learnt a long while ago to trust her gut. Maybe she should move her meeting with Mr Lee up and speak to him.

Her train of thought was interrupted when her phone started ringing. It was Brett.

"Hey, got news?" She asked, walking down the street and weaving through the people.

"Bad news. Last night a whole bunch of people were gunned down. Some biker club. Ammo matches some of the heavy guns you got on film," he stated grimly. She stopped walking and the person behind her who almost collided with her scoffed as they moved past.

"Well that's not good. I guess they weren't for selling then? Why would the Italians have beef with those guys?" She asked warily. As bad as it would be, she'd been hoping that the guns were just being sold. But this was war and she had a feeling the bikers wouldn't be the only ones facing the wrath.

"Not sure yet. We're trying to piece it together. Whatever it is, it seems like the Italians are trying to take over some turfs. I'll keep you updated," he sighed. After they bid their goodbyes, she trudged up her stairs trying to figure it out.

Sitting on her sofa, she wondered just how bad this war the Italians were waging would be. She'd never set out to investigate organised crime. She stuck with her small time thing for years and she was fine with it. But a few years ago Brett reached out when he was hitting dead ends. He'd heard about her skills and he shouldn't have asked her for help but he did. Now she did bits and bobs for him every now and again, especially with her interest in the Italian case. He was a detective now and even though it was still off the books, everyone knew she helped them out. She only dealt with him though. She didn't trust most of the other cops after the whole thing with Fisk. She'd kept out of that shit show as much as she could after one of the crazy Russians caught her and she got a lovely stab wound in the thigh. Then there was the whole mess with The Punisher. All of it had changed the gangs of Hell's Kitchen. Some of them wiped out, others coming back and others even stronger than ever. She hated that sometimes she wondered if she'd grew a pair and didn't shy away from it after being stabbed, if she'd have saved some of the lives lost in the chaos left behind from Fisk and Castle. Maybe that's why she couldn't say no when Brett had asked her to start looking into the Italians.

Either way, here she was. In the middle of a war that was just beginning. And her curiosity wouldn't let her back out now. She wanted to know what was going on just as much as the cops. There wasn't much she could do now anyway. She'd let Brett call her when he had some news and a lead to go on before she threw herself in the line of fire again.

She found herself preoccupied the rest of the day with thoughts on the Italians. She switched between trying to distract herself watching Netflix on her laptop and then looking at articles about the biker massacre. Her phone had been resting on the coffee table. She doubted Brett would be calling her today with news but she waited anyway. She wasn't sure just when she got so invested in trying to help with this. She just wanted something, a lead from the evidence at the crime scene or to do with HCL with the money laundering. Anything that would give her a direction to go to dig deeper.

Trying to block the Italians from taking over her restless mind, she snuggled on her couch with a thick blanket in her pyjamas as she watched Breaking Bad on Netflix. She loved the show and she’d watched it multiple times. She kept dozing in and out of sleep as night drew on. She wasn't sure what time it was when she heard a banging in the open plan apartment. She shot up, glaring at the door as her heart hammered in her chest. A quick glance to the large clock on the wall told her it was 3am now. The banging came again but she realised it wasn't from the door. Looking to the large window, she was startled by Matt in his suit, leaning against it from the outside. Her annoyance glared at him for dropping in at this time. Dropping in at all, honestly. She told him to stay the fuck away and here he was at 3am and waking her up. She found it hard enough to get a decent sleep on the best of days.

Throwing the blanket off her, she stood up and stomped over to the window. She wasn't even paying attention to him really.

"What part of stay the fuck away don’t you get?" She snapped impatiently. He didn't say anything through the glass but then she noticed how his hand was clamped over his chest, how his chest was heaving. Something was wrong. She opened the window to see him better and the moonlight glinted off his suit that seemed wet. Oh. Blood.

"Jesus, you're bleeding?" She asked, her voice getting a little higher. It was a lot of blood.

"Are you going to let me in or not?" He bit out, wincing as he did. She had half a mind to close her window and let him bleed out on her fire escape. But as annoying as he was, she knew she couldn't. She stepped aside and he carefully climbed inside. She took note of how slow he was moving and she wondered how much blood he'd already lost. He stumbled once inside and she quickly wrapped an arm around his uninjured side, making him groan in pain. With a tut, she led him to her couch and helped him sit down.

"Why are you here? I mean I get that you can't exactly go to the hospital, but here?" She asked, feeling irritated. She hadn't expected to have a half dead vigilante bleeding out on her sofa.

"I didn't have anywhere else to go," he muttered, shifting as he tried to take off his suit. She wanted to ask about Foggy but she guessed the happy go lucky best friend wasn't his go to for stitching him up. With a heaving sigh, she knelt on the couch next to him, helping him remove the top half of his suit. There was a gunshot wound under the front of his left shoulder. She tried not to be concerned.

"It's still in there, can you get it out?" He asked weakly. She tried to temper the anxiety at how bad he sounded. Not like she cared or anything, she'd worry no matter who it was.

"I can try," she muttered. She jumped up and ran to the bathroom, grabbing the tweezers off the side, the first aid kit and then the bottle of whisky that was on the side in the kitchen.

When knelt next to him again, his mask was off and it was jarring to actually see his face when still in his devil suit, even if it was only partially.

"Don't think this is a routine. You get hurt again, you can go somewhere else," she snarked. Honestly at this point it was more to cover her nerves at trying to keep him alive. He chuckled a little, leaning his head on the back of the sofa as she doused the tweezers with alcohol. One hand carefully steadied herself on his chest and she glanced at his pale face. His unseeing eyes were on her ceiling and his hair was all over the place.

"This is gonna hurt like a bitch," she murmured. Honestly, she felt a little bad for him. He just nodded, closing his eyes in anticipation.

She took a deep breath before digging the tweezers in his wound. He cried out. One hand gripping the couch tightly as the other flailed for a minute before he settled on fisting her shirt. She bit back a retort since he was in pain and she focused on fishing out the bullet. Thankfully it wasn't too long before she yanked it out. He was breathing deeply, sweating and looking awful and now the wound was oozing blood at a worrying rate. She grabbed some gauze and pressed it to the wound with a worried frown.

"I need to stitch it, hold this," she said firmly. Still fisting her shirt, his other hand came up to put pressure on the wound. She dug around and got the needle, cleaning it with the whisky before threading it. She tried to ignore the tremor in her hand as it brushed against his, moving the gauze.

When her eyes flit to his face, he was already looking at her with his unfocused gaze.

"You look like shit, Murdock," she muttered with a wry smirk as she started to stitch him up. He chuckled a little, scrunching his eyes closed as she tried to make quick work of sewing him up.

"I feel like it," he replied with a sly grin. She shook her head as her hands delicately thread the needle through his skin, stopping occasionally to soak up the blood with the gauze.

"You're good at this. Not your first time?" He asked. She wondered if he was making small talk to try and take his mind off it. Since he was injured she decided to go along with it. Her anger at dropping in like this would wait until she was done.

"Not a gunshot, but I had to sew myself up after a gnarly stab wound," she murmured in reply.

Her hands faltered as his hand let go of her shirt and settled on her bare thigh, his fingers running over the jagged scar. It startled her how he'd even know where it was but she shook it off. He was weird after all with his super senses. She tried to ignore the fact his hand was on her thigh at all. She tried to reason that his hands were kind of his eyes since he was blind. But the touch was light, gentle almost, it made her feel weird and she didn't like it. She didn't think anyone had touched her with such gentleness before.

"Who stabbed you?" He asked with a frown.

"Got caught snooping by one of the Russians a few years back. Taught me a hard lesson in being more sneaky," she snorted mirthlessly. His frown deepened and his hand stilled on her thigh. A few stitches later and he was all done. She wiped his wound clean before bandaging him up.

His gentle touch to her scar had rattled her and she hopped off the sofa the second she was done. She started stuffing everything back into the first aid kit.

"I wasn't joking when I said this won't happen again. Teach Foggy first aid or something, but don't drop by here like this again," she said shortly, maybe harsher than intended and his frown let her know he was confused by it. He didn't reply, just nodding curtly at her. After putting the bloodied gauze away she noticed him standing from the couch, he was swaying on his feet though and she bit her lip as she walked over.

"What are you doing?" She sighed, annoyed.

"Getting out of your hair. That's what you wanted right?" He bit out. Yes, it was. But as he took a woozy step forward he almost collapsed again. She felt a pang of guilt and pursed her lips as she walked over, pushing him gently to sit back down.

"You lost a lot of blood, you need to rest. Just stop being annoying. You can take the couch and leave tomorrow," she relented. He didn't look any happier than she was about the whole thing but there wasn't much they could do. They both knew he was in no condition to get home just yet. He gave a curt nod, staying where she pushed him back down. This would be awkward as all hell. Her apartment was all open plan except the bathroom and a small closet. Her bed was on the other side and she felt uneasy with him being so close if she was to sleep. But she also didn't want to stay awake and be forced to spend time with him with this tension.

"Go to sleep," she huffed, padding over to her bed. She had some blood on her shirt and a bloody handprint on it from where he'd gripped it. But she paid no mind to it as she climbed in bed, burrowing under the blankets. She fell asleep that night to uncomfortable silence.

#matt murdock x oc #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil x oc #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil

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writingpaperghost · 3 years

Text

There is a Me Who Can Become Strong (Chapter 10)

Chapter 10: Uneven Riders

The power of Drago Knight Hunter Z requires teamwork, but as it turns out, the Riders' aren't... great at that.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32857183/chapters/82837186

As it turns out, using the Drago Knight Hunter Z Gashat fucking hurts. While he thankfully wasn’t really hurt, at least nothing that wouldn’t heal pretty quickly, Emu was very much in pain. Asuna helped him back to the CR while Saki and Nico were still fighting Graphite.

When he and Asuna arrive back at the CR Director Kagami is in the midst of bemoaning Graphite’s large-scale infection, “It’ll be just like Zero Day again!”

Something in Emu didn’t like that statement very much. But he was in pain and wasn’t going to let that make him say something that would be a pain to deal with later. So he bites his tongue, nearly literally, and trudges over to the patient room.

Doctor Kyotaro is there, of course he is. Something about seeing him in that bed, the infection causing him to subtly glitch, made Emu tense. The glitching wasn’t much at the moment, most people would probably miss it, but he’d spent enough time searching for glitches that he could. It would grow, he knew, and if they weren’t quick enough, Doctor Kyotaro and everyone else Graphite had infected would die, disappear.

“I’ll fix this,” He finally says, “I promise that I’ll stop Graphite.” He’ll be damned if he lets one of, if not the first, good person in his life die.

Looking at him with the same kind expression from sixteen years ago, Doctor Kyotaro say, “Asuna told me about the fight, about how you tried to use Drago Knight Hunter Z on your own,” Emu’s not sure where he’s going with this. After all, how else would someone use a Gashat? “No doctor works alone, Emu. When I saved you, it was with the help of a whole team.” He tries not to flinch when Doctor Kyotaro calls him Emu. In that very moment, it feels very wrong. He isn’t much Emu, right now. This person is very much M.

Hesitantly, He wonders, “A team?” He’d never really considered the four of them being much of a team. Saki worked well with others fine, until Graphite was involved. Nico had only seemed to care about challenging him, or getting even for a defeat in some way – almost like it was all a game. And Kiriya… It wasn’t that Emu thought Kiriya was bad, but at three lies, it was hard to trust him. “Doctor Kyotaro, you know I don’t do co-op games well.”

“I know,” Doctor Kyotaro nods, “But I hope you can learn. All of you.”

Thinking about the other Riders, Emu’s not sure what to do when he leaves the room. I hope you can learn. “Yeah, Doctor Kyotaro,” He mutters under his breath, “I hope so too.”

---

Saki had leveled up after Emu was kicked out, though her focus on Graphite hadn’t ceased. Without the dragon Bugster here, Nico didn’t exactly have another opponent to worry about, so she too turned her attention to Graphite.

She shoots at Graphite, catching both his and Saki’s attention, “Stay out of this Nico!” Saki yells, swinging at Graphite, an attack he blocked.

“You didn’t stay out of M and mine’s fight yesterday!” Nico retorts, running up and shoving Saki slightly, then kicking Graphite, “Besides, I’m a higher level than you.”

“Well if you hadn’t taken our Gashats-“

“You involved yourself in it, otherwise I’d have just taken M’s,” Nico dodges out of the way of Graphite’s attack, shooting at Graphite and jumping back, “That’s on you, really.”

While the two were technically fighting Graphite together, they were also almost as much fighting each other. Which meant Graphite had more than a few openings to take advantage of. Nico would have loved to focus on just Graphite, but Saki was making it a bit hard, wanting to desperately to fight Graphite. Not that Nico even knew why.

Thankfully, someone she did trust to do half-way decent did show up. Not M, of course, but rather Lazer, already in Level 3. Not that she expected him to work any better with the either of them in this situation than her and Saki were with each other, but she at least figured he wouldn’t be so dead set on being the one to fight Graphite.

Not that it took long before Graphite managed to land a good hit on her, causing Nico to drop both the DoReMiFa Beat Gashat and the Gekitotsu Robots Gashat. Oh, Taiga was going to give her shit for that. Though she tried to pick them both back up, Saki had already grabbed them.

“Hey, I won those fair and square!”

“They’re not yours anyway!”

Kiriya glances at the two of them, “Who cares! There’s a dragon-“ Not that he was given an opportunity to finish. Graphite threw one strong attack at all three of them knocking them out of their transformations and back to the roof.

Right about then, Emu emerges from the doorway, having clearly ran the whole way. Asuna’s not far behind him. Nico notices that though he seems to be hurting a bit, he doesn’t have any visible injuries. Strange, the rest of them did. Of course they’d been fighting longer.

“I’m sorry!” He says, “Earlier, I acted terribly! But I think I know how we can defeat Graphite, since Drago Knight is a co-op game, we all need to work together.”

“No,” Saki answers immediately, “I am not working with a child or a liar when I can defeat Graphite on my own.”

“Hey! Who you calling a child?” Nico shoots back, “Not that anyone can work with Miss need-to-defeat-Graphite-all-on-my-own over there.” She gestures to Saki.

Kiriya seems casual as he responds, “You don’t use a Gamer Driver like the rest of us,” He’s looking straight at Emu when he says that, “No offense, Ace, but I’m not going to work with someone who’s clearly hiding something.”

That reminded Nico… “Yeah, and how’d you even beat the dragon earlier, anyway? You weren’t even transformed, just like the first time when you fought Salty’s Level 1.” Kiriya looked at her with surprise at that.

Eyeing the two warily, Saki asks accusingly, “Since when were you two buddy-buddy?”

“Since none of your business, Brave,” Nico shoots back, “Honestly, I don’t know why Taiga’s always singing your praises. You seem pretty shit at this whole thing, frankly.”

Saki stiffened at that, “Excuse me?” Then shakes her head, “Never mind, I’m leaving.”

Shrugging, Nico looks at Kiriya, “Whatever. Hey, Kujo, I’ve got something I want to talk to you about.” With that, she and Kiriya leave.

Now Emu stands alone on the roof, wondering what to do next. That was the only plan he had, and all three had managed to veto it. Still tired and sore from earlier, he sits down, realizing he’d really need to get home soon.

“Well,” He began quietly, unable to help but feeling small and helpless again, “That was that, I guess.”

Asuna stands beside him, “Don’t say that, Emu,” She puts a hand on his shoulder, “If anyone can find a way to get them all to work together, it’s you.”

“But how…?” Then he has an idea.

The first call is to Saki, she answers promptly, “Saki, listen, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle the Bugster operation tomorrow. I want to give you the Drago Knight Hunter Z Gashat in the morning.”

Then to Nico, “Hey, Nico, no, don’t ask why I have your phone number, listen, I think you should take the Drago Knight Hunter Z Gashat. I mean, you beat me fair and square yesterday, after all.”

Lastly, to Kiriya, “Kiriya, hey, so I figured you’ve probably got your shit together best here and I just don’t think I can handle Graphite after today. So could you meet me and come get the Drago Knight Hunter Z Gashat tomorrow morning? Cool, see you then.”

---

Night falls on the city and Graphite watches from a roof. Mu walks up behind him, “Graphite?”

Graphite turns to face him, “Yes, Kin? Is something wrong?” He narrows his eyes, “Shouldn’t you be thinking about sleeping?”

“Not tired,” Was Mu’s immediate response, “Anyway, I was wondering what you were up to.”

“Waiting,”

“For what?” Mu stands at his side now, leaning against him slightly.

“The Bugsters to form,” Graphite answers, throwing his arm around Mu’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “Now you should at least head inside. It’s getting cold out and we don’t need you to catch a cold on top of what you already have.”

“It’s not that cold,” Mu tries to protest, but Graphite just turns around and uses his arm around Mu’s shoulders to lead him inside.

---

Emu’s waiting on the three of them the next morning, at the place he’d gotten them all to agree to meet at. The first to arrive was Saki, slightly bandaged. Then Nico and Kiriya arrive at the same time.

“Yo, Ace,” Kiriya calls, “Hear you told both Nico and I to come get the Gashat. Saki too, by the looks of it.”

He hadn’t expected Kiriya and Nico to be seemingly communicating that much… but he supposed they could still have been talking when he’d called the both of them. Saki looks between the pair and then to Emu.

“Intern,” She says, “What are you doing?”

Taking a step back and looking at the three of them, Emu asks, “You all want the Gashat, right?” The three all nod, “Cool, then you’ve got to beat me if you want to get it.”

Saki takes out her Gamer Driver and Gashats, “If that’s what it takes.”

“I beat you once, M,” Nico reminded, following in kind, “I can do it again.”

Kiriya does the same, “You’ve barely seen me fight, Ace.”

Emu holds up the Drago Knight Hunter Z Gashat, alongside his own Mighty Action X. “Then let the game begin.”

Mighty Action X!

Drago Knight Hunter Z!

Taddle Quest!

DoReMiFa Beat!

Bang Bang Shooting!

Jet Combat!

Bakusou Bike!

Giri Giri Chambara!

Do-Do-Drago Kni-Kni-Kni-Knight! Dra! Dra! Drago Knight Hunter! Z! Para-DX!

Do-Do-DoReMiFa-So-La-Ti-Do! Ok! DoReMiFa Beat!

Jet! Jet! In the sky! Jet! Jet! Jet Combat!

Giri-giri-giri-giri Chambara!

The strength of Drago Knight Hunter Z wasn’t as overpowering this time, though Emu could still feel it gnawing on the edges of his mind. He’d have to make this quick, especially with how draining using this Gashat could be. Thankfully, he was outnumbered – one of the only times he’d be thankful for that, certainly.

He did his best to put up something of a fight, but an actual proper fight wasn’t the point of this exercise. As they fight, Saki drops the Gekitotsu Robots Gashat, which Emu wastes no time in picking up. Finally, all three of them ready their attacks, inserting their Gashats into their weapons. The armor comes flying off Emu before they’ve even attacked, just as he’d hoped.

DoReMiFa-Jet-Giri Giri Critical Finish!

The mascot character that was created by the armor splits into four Gashats, one going to each of the four Riders. Staggering a bit from the attack, Emu grins beneath his helmet.

“Drago Knight Hunter Z is a co-op game,” Emu explains, “Each Gashat is for each of the four players.”

Judging by the way Nico looked up at him, she must have realized what he was getting at too. She presses the stage select button on her Driver and they arrive in the game world. Standing across from them was Graphite, in his human form.

At the sight of a fight, he uses the Proto Drago Knight Hunter Z Gashat, transforming into the black version of his Bugster form. Using the Gashat that each of the Riders had been given, they all transform into Level 5. This time, the power was properly divided, making it much easier to handle.

Each armed with their own part of the armor, they prepare to fight Graphite.

---

The colorful woman, who still reminded Mu greatly of Poppy Pipopapo popped into the game arena, watching the fight. She seemed excited to see that the four Riders were able to use the power of Drago Knight Hunter Z.

Walking up beside her, Mu notes, “They’re all fighting their own fight,”

“Oh!” She jumps, taking a step away from him. “You!”

“I’m not going to try to fight you or something,” He says, “This is Graphite’s fight. He’d be upset if I just interrupted it. And I’m not going to attack someone who can’t fight back.”

The woman seems to realize his point about the fight, hesitantly saying, “They’re not really fighting together…”

“Are you with them, Ms. Poppy?”

She jumps at the question, “What? Po-Poppy?”

“Because you look like Poppy Pipopapo, obviously,” Mu smiled, “But are you with them? Are the Riders friends of yours? I noticed you yesterday.”

More startled and taking another step back, the woman wonders, “You were there yesterday?”

Mu doesn’t really think that’s a very hard question, “Of course,” He said, “Graphite’s my friend. I wouldn’t want something bad to happen to him.”

“The Riders will beat him,” she says, slowly but certain.

“Then I’ll just have to choose between the two people,” Mu says, “When it comes down to it, I’ll choose the one that’s still here for me.” He doesn’t bring up the many people Graphite infected. He wishes he knew why Graphite had infected those people, why he wanted to stress Hinata.

Then he catches it. Though the Riders aren’t working together well, they are overwhelming Graphite, slowly but surely. While the four began to argue about their fighting, Mu runs over to Graphite, already transforming to Level 3.

“Graphite, let me help,” He pleads, “While their distracted, we might be able to beat them.”

“Kin, no,” Graphite insists, “This is my fight.”

“You’ll die. If they defeat you, they’ll kill you.”

Graphite looks at him and Mu can feel the sorrow radiating off of him, “Then I shall die and Hinata will live, along with my other victims.”

“No…” Mu attempts to plead, but out of the corner of his eye, he can see the four Riders preparing their finishing attacks. Graphite shoves him away, knocking the two Gashats free and losing the transformation.

Drago Knight Critical Finish!

The attacks come and don’t stop. Graphite deflects them away with his Fang, making sure only to send them in the directions that Mu wasn’t. But even Graphite couldn’t keep that up forever. Eventually, the attacks began to get through and by the time the smoke cleared, the only thing left was data disappearing up into the sky, and the Prototype Gashat on the ground.

“Graphite…” Mu stared in shock at the place where, moments before, his friend had once been. “Graphite!” He grabs the Gashat off the ground and holds it close. He pulls his hood back up, which had fallen down when Graphite had shoved him, and tried desperately to reign in his emotions.

The armor on the four Riders disappeared and they were all sent out of the game world, back to where they belonged.

---

Emu’s at least thankful Doctor Kyotaro and everyone is alright. Unfortunately, the Ministry now has to deal with a very public incident. He does not envy any of them.

He hasn’t seen Saki since they defeated Graphite. She disappeared quicker than Emu ever could. So he just began his walk home.

There were a few too many people to take his shortcut yet, so he was searching for somewhere more secluded. He hurt. So he really needed to get home, sooner rather than later. One would usually say that taking a secluded alley is a terrible idea. Emu has a pretty good reputation with alleys, though, so he wasn’t worried.

Maybe this time he should have been, given someone decked him in the gut. He doubles over and hopes that he was able to handle another fucking fight today.

“Holy shit, Ace, I was not expecting that.” In a similar manner, Emu had not been expecting to hear Kiriya. Or to realize that he was the only other person in the alley and thus the one who fucking punched him.

“What the hell Kiriya!?” Emu managed to gasp out, “Did I really piss you off that much today?”

He’s able to look up just enough to see that Kiriya looks surprised, “Not really,” He says, “I just wanted to test something but… Well this is a surprise.”

Which didn’t really make sense. Just what was Kiriya talking about? Having finally regain his breath enough to not be doubled over, Emu stands up straight. Only to see his appearance. “Fuck,” He groans, “You just had to go punch me.”

“What are you?” Kiriya asks, “A Bugster?”

“Got it in one,” This wasn’t exactly how Emu saw revealing this to anyone would go. Then again, he hadn’t exactly planned to reveal it at all, certainly not to someone who he worked with to fight Bugsters. “It probably explains whatever questions you had about me, like the lack of Gamer Driver.”

Kiriya still seemed a bit shocked, which really didn’t surprise Emu. “I know Nico said she saw you glitching yesterday… But I’d just thought you’d been infected or something…”

“Of course she did,” Emu groaned once more, “Listen, we should knock this out now, so since I know you like getting answers, give me whatever questions you have now so we don’t have to deal with this later.”

Considering for a moment, Kiriya asks, “Where’s the real Emu Hojo, then?”

Emu rolls his eyes, “Where do you think? Dead, as far as I know.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, “Has been for six years now.”

“Since Zero Day?”

“Since we were separated. Which was before Zero Day.” He pulls a hand out to run his hands through his now curly hair, shorter than it was in his Emu appearance, “I was in class on Zero Day.”

“Before?” Kiriya wondered, “Wait, what do you mean separated?”

Yeah, Emu had been quickly figuring out that the sight he was greeted with when he’d gotten his own body was not what most Bugsters were greeted with. “There were… scientists, I guess. I don’t know, by the time I ‘woke up’ they were all dead.”

Slowly, Kiriya asks, “If you’re a Bugster, why are you helping us?”

“Because becoming a doctor was Emu’s dream,” He answered, “And I know that if this were Emu in my position, he’d do the same. He’d become a Rider if it meant that he could make people smile.”

There isn’t another question, just silence, so Emu assumes that Kiriya’s done and begins to walk away. He was just about to simply teleport home when Kiriya does speak up again, “Hey, Ace?”

“Yeah?”

“If you ever want to just… be… not Emu, come find me, since I know.” Casually, Kiriya puts his hands in his pant’s pockets, “Besides, maybe I’ll come up with some more… scientific questions to ask you. You… don’t seem quite like Poppy. Also she won’t answer many of my questions.”

Emu laughs a bit at that, “You know what? I might take you up on that.” With that said, he gives Kiriya a grin and a wave and teleports home, leaving Kiriya in the alley.

---

“Well, Mu,” Kuroto begins, “We’re ready to begin the next part of the plan.”

Mu doesn’t respond. He’s laying in the nest, alone. Kuroto can see the Proto Drago Knight Hunter Z Gashat in his hand, being clutched to his chest. It was odd, seeing Mu willing go into the nest.

Sometimes people leave you,

It was probably what struck Kuroto to realize that it hadn’t been an ordinary Bugster that the Riders had defeated today. It had been Graphite. It had been Mu’s best and currently only friend. Something in him felt terrible about that. But it had to happen. At least, that’s what Kuroto keeps telling himself.

Halfway through the woods

“Don’t be too sad, Mu,” Kuroto called, “We still have the Proto Gashat, so we can bring him back eventually.”

Over in the nest, Mu seemed to perk up a little at that. “I hope so,” he says quietly.

He can’t be aware of how much it’s like a knife to the heart for Kuroto to see him like this.

You decide what’s right, you decide what’s good

#kamen rider exaid #kamen rider ex aid #kamen rider #my writing #there is a me who can become strong

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vanillacraftau · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1

Once upon a time there were three idiots.

The first idiot was named Erik. With auburn hair and bright blue eyes, he was the jokester. Always quick to respond and earn a laugh, Erik was one of the kindest men you would ever have the honor of meeting. At 23 young, he was skilled with a sword, and found joy in sparring with one of his best friends, Suga.

Suga, the second idiot, was the handsome one of the group. With warm brown hair and caramel skin, they were quite the sight to behold. Not quite as tall as Erik but still a decent height. Intelligent and creative, Suga was a skilled strategist and kind friend, always quick to help and support those around them.

The final idiot was Fallen. With dark brown hair and eyes, she was the plainest of all of them. Unskilled really in combat, Fallen found her world to be more academic. She studied and learned, always reading some book or journal to pass the time. She was a tad short tempered, but being with her partner Suga, best friend Erik, and crow familiar Pam made her happier than anything.

The world these three idiots lived in was unfortunately not a peaceful one. They lived within the territory of The Order. A large kingdom with a powerful regime, The Order stood unchallenged on almost every side. Except the northern border. Constant attacks from a neighboring country, called the Provinces of Lumen, had sent The Order’s army up north close to the small village in which Erik, Suga, and Fallen lived.

The constant presence of some soldier or another inspired a lot more sparring sessions than usual.

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

Erik drew his sword, the plain steel blade gleaming in the mid-afternoon sun. He faced off against Suga in a small clearing behind their houses. Large oak trees towered around a small green meadow. Erik took an attack stance, dropping his weight and holding his sword ahead of him before he shouted "Prepare to be destroyed!" as he lunged forward to attack Suga. A quick side step was all it took to get away from Erik’s overhead strike. Suga deftly swung one of their small battle axes against the side of his blade, knocking against it before he had the chance to take another swing.

"Hah I don't think I'll be the one getting destroyed today." Suga smirked as they swung their axe in a wide arc towards Erik’s chest. The taller man quickly jerked his sword, catching the strike on the hilt of his blade and leaping to the side out of harm's way.

"Hey guys-!" Fallen’s voice suddenly rang out from the edge of the clearing, making Suga jump and miss, throwing their weight wrong and crashing awkwardly down into the dirt. Fallen let out a shocked gasp as she ran to the side of her downed partner. "Oh my gods Suga-" She knelt beside them and quickly touched their shoulder. "I'm really sorry!" Fallen frowned with concern, her eyes flitting over their body as she assessed for injuries. As if a stumble could really do that much damage.

Wiping a stray piece of dirt from their cheep, Suga turned towards their wife and grinned. "Heh, it's ok. Not the first time I've fallen over you." Fallen struggled to contain a heavy blush from spreading over her cheeks when Suga added a little wink onto the end.

Erik fondly rolled his eyes at the two smitten dumbasses. "Fallen, what are you doing here?" He questioned. She rarely ever showed up to their sparring matches, claiming it just wasn’t her place and watching made her anxious that they’d hurt one another.

Fallen quickly stood up, brushing dirt and plant debris from her pants before pulling a neatly folded letter from her back pocket. Even from this distance, Erik could see the official seal of The Order keeping the note together. She held it out to him. “I was talking with Ceutie when the mail arrived. It’s a letter from someone named Camorrista. If I recall correctly, he’s one of the archons of The Order.”

The archons. There were 3, each surrounded in mystery. They were the supreme leaders of The Order. If they had a letter from one of them, it had to be something important.

“It’s… addressed to both of you.” Fallen’s voice went slightly quieter as Erik took the letter in his hands.

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

It had been two weeks since the letter from Camorrista arrived, offering Suga and Erik a place in the Order’s army.

Both of them had accepted.

Leaving one behind.

Suga pressed a hand to their forehead, a small desperate plea entering their voice as they tried to reason with their partner. "Fallen-"

" You said you were gonna leave in two months, not two weeks! Why are you so eager to go?!” It had been the longest weeks of Fallen’s life. Two months turned into two weeks before the two new additions to the army were set to head out to the capital and begin training. Fallen didn’t want them to go. Why would she? They were her world. Pam sat on the table, her feathers ruffled in reflection of Fallen’s despair. The two were bound, telepathically able to communicate and easily able to pick up on each other’s feelings. The arguing had only gotten worse as the deadline for their leaving neared, leaving Pam miserable most of time.

Dropping their hand from their forehead, Suga stepped forward to where her partner stood rigid in their living room and wrapped their arms tightly around her. "I'm not leaving you, Fallen. I'm just going away for a little bit. You know I'd never abandon you."

Still shaking, Fallen buried her face in their chest and let out a weak breath. She grabbed hold of the back of Suga’s shirt, the fabric twisting in her grip as she tried to anchor herself against them. Maybe if she held on tight enough, they wouldn’t go. “I just don’t want to be without you…” Her voice felt weak. She knew they were going, no matter how hard she begged them to stay. A gentle hand cupped the back of Fallen’s head, running through her hair.

“You’ll never be without me Fallen. I just...have to do this. It feels like it calls to me. Like… like it’s my destiny finally coming true. Just like it was when I knew I had to be with you.”

As Fallen opened her mouth to reply, a few light taps on their door interrupted. Drawing a hand quickly across her stinging eyes, Fallen pulled back from their embrace and took a heavy breath. “I’ve got it.” She pulled open the door, trying not to break down when she saw it was Erik, bag slung over his shoulder and new armor gleaming in the sunlight. It was time. He had a lopsided grin on his face as he waved Suga over.

"Ey guys! Suga are you ready to go?" He asked as Suga cast Fallen a small pained glance before nodding and picking up their own bag from beside the table.

"Yeah I'm about ready. Guess we'll be taking off then huh?" They brushed their hand against Fallen’s back before heading out the door beside Erik. Suga and Erik stood side by side for a moment before sharing a glance and opening their arms. Fallen couldn’t help it. Tears welled up in her eyes as she raced forward into their arms. Burying herself into Suga with Erik pressed against her back, She shut her eyes tightly for a moment and just tried to imprint this moment into her mind. Pam flew out from the home and quickly landed on Suga’s head, her wings spreading over both soldiers in the closest thing to an embrace she could muster.

Erik couldn’t help but quietly laugh. "Of course, safety is my middle name!" That got a smile to flash over Fallen’s face. She reluctantly let go, trying to hide the fact that she was blubbering like a baby.

Suga caught her, gently pressing their hands against her cheeks. They smiled encouragingly and gently pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We’re gonna be fine hun, don’t worry.” Fallen wished that was possible. The two people in this world she loved the most were headed off to a war. There was no possible way she wouldn’t worry. Regardless, she put on a brave smile and turned to Erik. “You keep them in check for me.” Erik smirked and nodded as Suga gave a small fake pout. “Hey!”

Fallen tried to hang onto her brave smile until Suga and Erik had turned onto the next road and disappeared from sight before crouching down and burying her face in her arms, her shoulders shaking as she let out a heavy sob.

Come home soon… Pam murmured in their shared mind. Fallen couldn’t agree more.

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

"So off to the capital then huh?" Erik smiled as he got settled into his train car seat. Suga sat down across from him, their eyes bright with excitement at this new adventure. "Off to the capital indeed." They spun their wedding ring around, already missing Fallen. But this would be good for everyone, they just knew it.

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

It had been four whole years since Suga and Erik boarded that train. The pair proved to be intelligent and reliable, rising up and gaining more respect in The Order, each now claiming the title of ‘General’. Fallen couldn’t be more proud of them, eagerly reading each and every letter the two of them sent her. She missed them horribly, but thankfully each summer they returned home. The three of them would spend each day together until they had to return to the battlefield. Fallen would be a liar if she said it got any easier saying goodbye, but she could see just how much this mattered to Suga, and no longer gave them any grief over this way of life.

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

Spring had arrived. Pollen covered the ground in a thin yellow sheet as bees buzzed through the trees. Birds tweeted joyfully as new buds of flowers and herbs sprouted up all over the village. It was a time of growth and new beginnings. Fallen set down a warm bowl of stew in front of Ceutie, as agreed upon for their lunch. Fallen settled down with her own bowl, swirling it around with her spoon for a few moments before taking a sip. Ceutie followed suit, smiling brightly at the taste. “Not bad!” The blonde girl smiled. “Almost edible!” “Oh, you shut it.” Fallen laughed warmly. She and Ceu had been best friends for as long as either girl could remember. Fallen told her everything. Ceutie had been her support for the times Suga and Erik were away. She could never imagine being able to repay her for that.

Nor did she imagine she’d ever have the opportunity.

A horrendously loud boom against the door made both girls jump out of their skin. Fallen was quick to her feet, Pam fluttering around in a panic over her head. Danger danger danger danger!!! The crow frantically screeched.

Despite Pam’s warning, Fallen hesitantly reached for the door.

“CEUTIE. YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR TREASON AGAINST THE ORDER. EXIT THE PREMISES WITH YOUR HANDS OVER YOUR HEAD. LEAVE ANY WEAPONS BEHIND.” A horrifically loud voice, matching the volume of the knock from before, rattled the house. Fallen stumbled back from the door, her head snapping towards Ceutie with her eyes widened in horror.

Ceutie had paled, her knuckles white as she gripped the spoon tightly in her hand. “No…” Her voice was barely a whisper, cracking with fear.

“What are they talking about?!” Fallen clutched at her arms in fear. Ceutie bit her lip and shakily stood. Without a word towards Fallen, she started towards the door. “Hey- wait where are you going!?" Fallen practically knocked her chair over to chase after her best friend

Before Fallen could stop her, Ceutie was opening the door. A heavily armored man stood in front of them. A large white cross was blazoned across his black chestplate. A horrifically large silver trident sat at his hip, and his gauntleted hands were folded sternly. His figure blocked out the sun, looming over the two women and casting shadows over their faces.

Slowly, Ceutie raised her head to face the armored figure before her. “It’s me you want…” Her voice was small, and her frame looked thin and frail next to such a giant of a man.

The beautiful spring day had dissolved into something from a nightmare. Smoke was rising in the distance, the sharp stinging scent finally reaching the girl’s homes. A number of Order soldiers were marching through, yanking open doors, shattering windows, even killing those who resisted. Bodies littered the streets. All in the search for the small blonde woman standing before them. Fallen couldn’t help but wonder as she tried not to gag how they didn’t hear the screams.

The General before them uncrossed his arms, grunting at finally finding the woman he was looking for. “The Archons have ordered your execution for spying for the enemy, Lumen. If you resist, I'll drag out your death until you beg for its release. Come quietly and we can make it quick.”

Fallen and Pam surged forward, planting themselves in between the Order soldier and Ceutie in a moment of uncharacteristic bravery. “Wait!” She held up her left hand, showing off the silver and blue wedding ring. “I’m married to one of your fellow generals, Suga Snaps! Surely they wouldn’t agree to such drastic measures! Please, let’s discuss this!”

The general narrowed his eyes and made a small growl. “What do you want.” It didn’t sound so much like a question as it did an accusation. Fallen’s hands had begun to shake.

“S-surely the law requires some form of trial, giving Ceutie the chance to argue her innocence! I know she would never do something like betray The Order! I’m Suga would attest to that as well, just ask them!” She tried to reason with him, Pam landing on her shoulder and pressing against her cheek as comfortingly as she could.

At that, the General burst out laughing. It was cold and cruel, echoing from his chest with a dark malice. "Look honey. Seems your little wifey didn't tell you how things work around here. When the archons want somebody dead. They die. No trial needed!" He spread his arms, showing off the cross on his chest with pride.

Fallen’s shaking hands suddenly stilled as her fear was replaced with nothing but a hot rage. First at misgendering her partner, second at his arrogance. “That’s WRONG.” She took a step forward. “I WON’T let you do this.”

"Good.” He smirked, stepping back and drawing his trident. “I love a pointless fight."

What happened next could barely be considered a fight. Fallen ducked and bolted to the side, Ceutie watching in a muted, frozen terror. Pam took flight, diving down with her talons extended towards the man’s eyes. He smacked her aside with ease, Fallen crying out as their pain was shared. She barely had time to turn around before the handle of his trident was brought down on the back of her head. Finally, Ceutie snapped out of her paralyzed fearful state and raced out of the house to Fallen’s side. The brown haired girl’s eyes were swimming, black edging her vision from just the single blow. “R-run!” She cried as Ceutie’s face came into view. There wasn’t a chance.

Ceutie suddenly froze and Fallen felt something warm splatter against her face. Ceutie slowly looked down to her chest, where three prongs had been driven all the way through her body. As the general pulled the weapon free from her already dead form, Ceutie fell sideways. Fallen was frozen, unable to breathe, unable to move, unable to think. Her eyes were wide.

The man laughed. “Tell you what. Since you are married to one of my cohorts, I won’t kill you too.” His trident was still dripping red as he pointed it at Fallen’s upturned, tear stained face.

The last thing she saw was a glint of metal, and an order banner waving in the distance. A single upward strike with the three pronged weapon was all it took to leave sizable gashes. One over each eye, and a finishing one vertical on her forehead. Fallen’s scream was the only thing anyone in the village heard until she fell unconscious, her body twitching with pain.

All around her, the village that she, Suga, Erik, and Ceutie had grown up in, burned to the ground.

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

"Hello? Can you hear me?" An unfamiliar, muffled voice brought Fallen’s attention back to the world of the awake. It hurt. It all hurt. Everything was white. It felt like she was lying on some sort of cot, a thin blanket over her legs. She weakly tried to sit up.

"Mmgh wha- who?" She asked weakly. Her throat was dry and raw, her tongue swollen.

A hand pressed against her shoulder as she began to rise, pushing her back down against the bed."Hey, calm down. My name is Fire Fox. You've been seriously injured and need to rest."

The white that had consumed Fallen’s vision was beginning to send her into a panic. “I-i can’t see? Why.. why can’t I see?!” Her voice quickly grew hysterical as she fought to open her eyes. The hand on her shoulder squeezed gently.

"I won’t lie. Your eyes are quite damaged. You might not be able to see again." It was honest, but far from any form of comfort. It was too much. This stranger, ‘Fire Fox’, the bandages over her eyes, the white where there should’ve been color. Lying in a strange place, completely defenseless. And without Pam. Fallen again tried to sit up, this time desperation making her thrash. “W-where’s Pam?!” She cried out, a dull ache in her mind where her dear familiar’s gentle words usually could reassure her. Quickly, a feathered wing was pressed against her hand. Fire audibly sighed. “Don’t worry, your bird is alright. Please, you really need to calm down. You’re safe here, I promise.” Once more he eased her into lying down, and this time Fallen reluctantly stayed. Fallen’s hands found the edge of the blanket, and she pulled it up over her arms. She felt cold, goosebumps rising over her body as she struggled not to slip back into a panic. “W-what happened to me…?” “I heard news of another Order attack, so I went to go investigate. I found your village, and you lying on the ground hardly alive. Your eyes were cut up, and your bird was unconscious beside you. Not finding any other survivors, I brought you back to my camp. That’s about it.” Fire’s voice was mostly calm, only a small edge of anger slipping into his words as he recounted what he knew. “Frankly, you’re lucky to have survived. The order usually just kills whoever stands in their way.”

Fallen couldn’t help the bitterness in her voice as she curled up on her side. "I-I’m pretty sure being dead is better than this..." Pam shifted in response to her pain, but could only find the energy to weakly flutter her wings as an acknowledgement.

Fire just let out a small pained laugh. "Heh, maybe. But this isn't as bad as what they did to me.” Not that Fallen could see this, but Fire bore a thin ceramic mask in the shape of a fox. Hints of scars touched his cheeks where the mask didn’t cover.

Fallen tilted her head towards his voice, unable to help the curiosity that bubbled up at his statement. “What.. what did they do to you…?”

He took a moment to think before letting out a sarcasm laced reply. "What they do to everyone who dares speak against the might of the noble order."

End of Chapter 1

#story #art

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heizerux · 5 years

Text

Oni-Chan (the longer post)

(I’d add a keep reading but mobile doesn’t work like that :( )

“Lila is dangerous, and it’s only getting clearer and clearer.”

Once again, production order literally means nothing. It doesn’t. I already talked about in a previous post how certain episodes go way before/after the other regarding the Kagami storyline (just by looking at a few details), and I’ll most likely come back and revise that post when Ikari Gozen is out, but for now we’ll move on.

So let’s dive. Last time we saw ourselves in such a situation . . . It was Chameleon

(Wait! PLEASE DONT THROW THE ROCKS YET.)

Previously on “Lila is an ballistic bomb”, Lila had threatened Marinette, almost akumatized her and in the process actually cornered Adrien while still having the class under control. We ended with Adrienette fully knowing she’s a liar but agreeing, that if she IS called out, they would only be dealing with another akuma (who only gets stronger and smarter by the transformation in case this hasn’t been picked up yet).

Several salt posts and new episodes later, we now have Oni-Chan!

Let me start off with the small stuff and giving you a basic summary of what’s going down.

Lila makes up needing help with her school work and Nino being the pure boy he is said Adrien could probably help, to which Lila managed to lie her way in by bringing up “oh, but if you don’t let me in he will fail cause we can help each other and that would be bad, now wouldn’t it?” To Nathalie and alas, she enters. (Marinette is still a little past the Gigantitan stage of her love stage but hasn’t reached the point of SW2 yet, in case you wanted that to make sense of her behavior)

Lila keeps noticing that Adrien only DEEPLY cares for Ladybug (Marinette) and Kagami while being in his room and can’t stand it. . .

So she instead fakes a “couple picture” and makes it viral to all of his contacts so she can “clean house”. It’s disgusting.

Even Plagg questions his actions, and he still just thinks she wants friends and needs to be handled with kindness. Anyways back to the photo

Marinette of course knows Lila and Adrien and is no fool. . . But who doesn’t know this. . . Is my poor Kagami.

I’ll start tearing things apart in more detail here.

Kagami started crying because that rose meant so much to her. Seeing the life she lives similar to Adrien, that was probably the first person she ever really grew feelings for. Then to see him snatched by another girl?

It REALLY hurts. I feel for her.

Kagami becomes Oni-Chan and an entire fight basically breaks out over “I will fight for Adrien!” “Okay you can have him (jk no you won’t, he’s mine)”. . .

(I’ll come back to why I feel this shouldn’t have been included at the end of the post)

Real quick I love how her having the horn works on people calling out her lies. It was actually good lol.

ANYWHOOSIES

Attempts to get Lila to change keep being made until she pulls a classic “Lila move” and lured him away for Oni-Chan to take Ladybug down.

I did say there’s a reason you don’t want an akuma within her proximity, right?

(Also why Adrienette decided that even though they know she is a liar, they can’t call her out because she’s only find ways to hurt them as heroes, but also as civilians.)

Chat (Adrien) FINALLY realizes that Lila lied to lure him away from Ladybug so she could have her miraculous taken (she’s still team Hawkmoth).

Plagg was right to mention that she was looking for things, and those things are to hurt people close to him.

Now that the dots are connected for him officially, he is DONE playing smiles with her, and makes a plan to save both Ladybug, akuma Kagami and (even Lila).

That realization is what we’ve all been waiting for and what was wanted in Chameleon. For him to notice just how serious Lila is about bringing down Ladybug.

Chat Noir (Adrien) is disgusted.

How Chat actually handles KNOWING this is so cleansing. He realizes Lila hurt Kagami, so he makes sure she’s safe and well taken care of.

My heart did break a lil knowing that Ladybug didn’t get her fist bump. . . But he prioritized someone’s who was actually hurt.

That’s OUR Adrien.

Now we can conclude with Adrien not only simply knowing Lila is a snake, but also knowing that she could and WILL bring harm to the people he cares deeply for.

Which is why he CAN NOT OUT HER BECAUSE SHE’S THAT DANGEROUS.

Instead he gives her the cold shoulder and that takes a LOT. If someone tried hurt the person I love/care for, I couldn’t even look that person in the face.

It takes a lot to be able to stay “humble” against someone you dislike.

Adrien treats Kagami how he treated Marinette when she “confessed to Chat” by spending time with her and asserting that she IS important to him. (He did that too with the hug for Mari in Weredad).

His feelings may still be all about the “mysterious” Ladybug, but he won’t let Lila break down two important and valid girls.

Of course though. . .

Hawkmoth still needs those miraculous, and seeing as Lila can cause akumatizations and even lure LB and CN as a victim during that, Gabriel decides to “hire her” on as an “inside man”.

This means things can only get worse . . . But that’s yet to be seen.

So that was a summary with main focus on the important parts, now let’s talk about how the whole “girls vs girls all for one boy” thing should have been left out.

I’m genuinely upset about this that I don’t have much to say about other than why the hell was this in here?

These girls shouldn’t go all “yandere” over one dude who just genuinely misses his mom and hopes his dad would be decent.

How the actual development is going (when you dig through the episodes in a specific order so far), you do faintly see that this thankfully isn’t a permanent thing (SW2 was a bust but it wasn’t all for nothing), but it just shouldn’t have been in there to begin with.

Sorry this was long.

#oni chan #oni-chan #ml season 3 spoilers #ml season 3 #ml review #ml thoughts #ml salt #ml #long post #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #lila rossi #kagami tsuguri

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lets-talk-appella · 5 years

Text

i’m nobody’s but yours

Chapter 22/25 - Beca

Summary: Beca is straight as an arrow. 100%, totally, completely straight. Except for one problem that 100%, totally, completely changes everything: Chloe Beale.

Title borrowed from Calum Scott’s “If Our Love Is Wrong.”

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: M (for dark themes, homophobia, masturbation, and eventual smut in later chapters)

TW: Homophobic slurs, hate language, homophobic behavior, internalized homophobia.

AO3, FFN, and below.

Beca groans in loudly in frustration, earning a dirty look from the store manager, which she returns with interest. Seeing this, Chloe waves at the manager in apology and steers Beca away, leaving the fifth shop they’ve entered since arriving at the mall.

“Be nice…” Chloe warns under her breath.

“Ugh, sorry,” Beca mutters, “but they had literally nothing there.”

She’s tired of navigating the mall’s endless stores, none of which have proven even remotely helpful. Though, Beca realizes, it’s not like she’s been overly helpful, either, not having any concrete idea formed for what would make good parting gifts for the Bellas.

What do you give to people who have been your family for years when you’re all about to go separate ways?

Still, she’s determined to find something. The Bellas are too important for her to give out meaningless trinkets or nothing at all.

“They didn’t have nothing,” Chloe says, “but they didn’t have anything that screamed ‘Bellas’ either, yeah.”

“Yeah, I don’t know, there’s nothing that seems right.”

“Well, what’re you thinking?” Chloe asks patiently, even though Beca knows if their positions were reversed and Chloe were dragging her all over the mall aimlessly, she’d be irritated. “Do you have a rough idea of what would be good?”

“I’m just not sure if we should do, like, individual things?” Beca answers as they walk past additional stores without any particular destination in mind. “Or eleven of the same thing.”

“Eleven? There are ten of us.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I – I thought maybe, you know, maybe Aubrey would like something, since she really… helped bring… us togeth – uh...” Beca trails off at the megawatt smile growing on Chloe’s face.

As Beca stares, Chloe’s grin widens until she looks utterly delighted. Her mouth opens and Beca’s sure she’s about two seconds from having her eardrums ruptured by a very Chloe-esque gush of excitement, and all because she’s bothering to include Aubrey.

“Stop.” Beca cuts her off seriously. “Stop that right now. I don’t want to talk about it. Don’t make it weird.”

She watches as Chloe’s expression twitches and shifts as she struggles to reign in her enthusiasm. It takes her a moment, but finally, Chloe’s smile fades and she takes on the appearance more appropriate of someone at a serious business meeting.

“Better,” Beca says cautiously.

Instantly, Chloe’s beaming smile breaks free, almost blinding Beca with its intensity. “You are so CUTE! And SOFT!” Chloe squeals with a laugh, turning several heads in their direction.

“Whatever,” Beca rolls her eyes, feeling her own lips lift in spite of herself. If someone had told her three years ago she’d be looking for a Bellas gift to Aubrey, she’d have laughed, too.

Chloe’s shoulder bumps into hers playfully, and Beca glances over at her still-massive smile.

“Anyway…” she emphasizes, ignoring Chloe’s glee as they continue walking past store fronts. “What do you think about the gift thing?”

Chloe’s fingers lace with her own and she runs her thumb absentmindedly along the back of Chloe’s hand. By now, the action has become reflexive, though it never fails to make her heart stutter. Beca swings their hands between them gently as they navigate around the decent amount of other people in the mall.

“Individual might be nice,” Chloe says slowly, “but then there’s that whole thing where you have to keep everything the same price so it’s fair.”

“Oh, yeah,” Beca agrees, “that gets hard.” She grimaces and adds, “Plus, like – whenever I think of getting something for Stacie, all I can picture is a vibrator, and – no.”

“You’re picturing Stacie with a vibrator? Should I be jealous?” Chloe looks at her out of the corner of her eye.

“Not what I meant, and you know it.”

Chloe hums, grinning in satisfaction.

They keep moving through the mall, Beca checking out every store front they pass. They pass a shoe outlet, a video game store, and a kitchen store, none of which stand out. She gets distracted, then, when she looks across the main aisle and makes eye contact with a middle-aged woman, who quickly looks away. Beca looks away too, self-conscious and wondering if maybe her hair is an issue, but a glance in the reflective glass of another store front shows that she looks fine.

“I think the same gifts for everyone is a good idea, though,” Chloe continues thoughtfully. “That way it’s, like, a, you know, like a team gift, since we’re a team.”

Beca nods. “Yeah, okay, I just don’t know what would be good for…”

Her voice again trails off into nothingness as she catches another stranger’s eye, this time, an older man. He’s seated on a bench they’re walking past, glaring in their direction with a heavy frown on his face. As Beca watches, she notices his gaze is fixed low; with a jolt, Beca realizes he’s staring at their joined hands.

Oh. Right.

Beca’s neck warms and her eyes drop to scan the floor in front of them, though she knows that rationally, she has nothing to feel bad for.

“Hmm,” Chloe muses, apparently oblivious of the man’s hostility. “Team… maybe T-shirts? Sweaters… uh, some sort of, I don’t know, memory book?”

“Wh – oh, that could be cute…”

“Beca?”

Beca runs her tongue over her front teeth, looking around carefully. “Listen, Chlo, maybe we should – oh!”

Beca stops talking abruptly when her eyes land on a piercing and jewelry kiosk in the middle of the aisle. It’s like a lightbulb turns on in her mind, the sudden idea driving everything else away.

“Okay, wait,” she says, thinking rapidly. “This might be lame, and you have to tell me if it’s lame.” She glances over, waiting until Chloe nods before continuing, “...But how do you feel about matching necklaces?”

Chloe stops dead in her tracks, her mouth popping open in surprise.

Beca stops, too, dragged to a halt by Chloe’s hand still wound around her own. “Oh, god,” she groans. “It’s lame, isn’t it? Yeah, you’re right, it’s lame. We definitely don’t need to –”

“No, Bec – it’s – that’s a great idea!”

“Really?”

“Definitely,” Chloe says firmly, pulling Beca toward the jewelry kiosk so abruptly it makes her stumble the first few steps and squeak embarrassingly in surprise.

Chloe drags her right up to the counter, moving directly to the necklace section with an excited squeal. She grips Beca’s hand even more tightly, tugging her close and peering down and into the display case happily. Beca glances up at the woman running the stand, smiling a little to half-apologize for their abrupt approach, only for the woman to smile back tight-lipped, her eyes flicking around almost furtively.

A brick scrapes its way down Beca’s throat to drop into her stomach.

Beca mimics the woman and glances around, trying to remain inconspicuous. People around them are probably making assumptions; they’re holding hands, standing at a jewelry kiosk, and Chloe had been obviously excited over something. Her blood runs cold when she realizes there are more than a few people staring over at them now with judgment in their eyes.

Beca forces herself to take a deep breath through her nose. There are “Sheilas” everywhere.

“What about that one?” Chloe asks, refocusing Beca’s attention on the display case.

She moves closer to Chloe under the pretext of peering down into the case, angling herself so as to block Chloe as best she can from the strangers’ views.

“Um,” Beca says, her eyes landing on the necklace Chloe’s pointing at. She doesn’t want to alarm Chloe by making her aware of the electric storm of hostility surrounding them. The best thing to do would be to find something quickly and get out of the mall before anything happens.

Thankfully, the necklace Chloe has pointed out is a simple one: a standard quarter note on a thin golden chain, with the word “Belle” inscribed along its stem in cursive. It’s small, elegant, and almost too perfect to be real.

“Does that say…?”

“Yes,” Chloe smiles at her, and Beca can’t help but grin back.

“It’s perfect,” she says, grateful it was an easy find.

Chloe beams and squeezes Beca’s hand, which she takes as agreement.

Beca looks to the woman running the kiosk. She has to clear her throat to regain her attention; the woman had been staring hard in the opposite direction. “Um, hi. We’ll take eleven of these ‘Belle’ ones, please, if you have them.”

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

Beca’s watching Pretty Little Liars when she’s 16. She’s only been living with Warren and Sheila for a few months, and this show is overdramatic, but it’s a distraction.

“Change the channel. I don’t want to see that,” Sheila’s voice sounds from behind her. “I don’t like you watching this.”

“Why?” Beca asks sullenly, not bothering to twist around on the couch.

“I heard they had a lesbian on it. That’s not something you need to see,” Sheila says scornfully. “There never used to be so many gays on TV, and I don’t see why they have to have them on all the shows now.”

Beca knows which character Sheila is talking about. In truth, she doesn’t always like seeing that, either; It makes her feel weird, unexpected things that she doesn’t want to think about. She doesn’t really want to do anything Sheila tells her, though, so she ignores her and leaves the show on. With a huff of annoyance, Sheila comes around the couch, snatches away the remote control, and changes the channel herself.

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

The kiosk manager raises her eyebrows, but whether at the quick necklace choice or at the sheer number requested, Beca doesn’t know. Still, the woman nods without further comment and kneels to open a cabinet within the kiosk and starts rifling through it, presumably to check her stock.

Even as Chloe leans over the counter in excited anticipation, the back of Beca’s neck prickles and dread floods her senses.

She turns automatically, pivoting so her body fully shields Chloe’s.

“Bec, what –”

Someone tall – she catches a glimpse of a beard and narrowed brown eyes – barrels into Beca’s shoulder, sending her stumbling backward and into Chloe.

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

She’s 18 when Sheila, after graduation, tells her, “Just wait until college, you’ll meet your future husband there.”

Beca tries to feign interest, instead of acknowledging the vague disgust she feels at the thought. She wasn’t going to college to meet a husband; if she had her way, she wouldn’t even be going to college at all.

“What’s the male-to-female ratio of Barden, again?” Sheila asks Warren, who shrugs uncomfortably. Beca has to look away.

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

Beca tenses and holds her breath, waiting for a fist to appear in her gut or a shove to send both her and Chloe flying, but it never comes.

Instead, a sharp male voice hisses directly into her ear, “It’s still a fucking disgusting sin, even if you fags are able to pick out rings.”

Chloe gasps in shock and a white-hot pain slices through Beca’s chest; she might as well have been punched, for what those words did to her. The next instant, the man moves on, plowing through them roughly and leaving them staggering. Instinctively, as soon as she and Chloe catch their balance, Beca stares after the him, but can only see the back of his head moving away rapidly.

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

She’s sitting with the other Bellas, staring at Jessica’s (or Ashley’s) laptop in nervous anticipation. The livestream of the Marriage Equality decision plays as they all watch with bated breath. Chloe makes it to the sitting room just in time, the familiar butterflies stirring in Beca’s stomach at the thought of asking her out soon…

On the stream, the votes start to appear, each one sending a pang through Beca’s entire body. She watches, ensnared and terrified. It’s going to be close; her heart sinks as she realizes they probably won’t win.

But then, they do. It’s 5-4, a small margin. It’s amazing and it’s exhilarating and it’s mind-numbing.

It’s much, much too close for comfort.

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

Beca’s body goes numb with shock and fear, even as the man’s head is lost in the crowd.

She looks around; almost everyone near them is staring, wide-eyed.

Beca tugs her hand from Chloe’s.

She does it because she’s not thinking. She does it because everyone is staring at them. She does it because she doesn’t know what else to do.

She regrets it the instant it happens.

Chloe makes a small noise of protest, a hurt little cry that rips Beca apart even more than the man’s words had. She instantly knows that sound is going to echo in her nightmares.

She can feel Chloe’s eyes on the side of her face, can feel the shame warming her neck and face, but all she can do is watch the woman behind the kiosk extract more versions of the music note necklace from her supplies.

Beca swallows.

Chloe’s staring at her, her hand still dangling in the air between them. Beca can’t do anything about it.

She shoves her own hands deep into her front pockets, balling them into fists and digging her nails into her palms so she can feel something besides the crushing weight of Chloe’s accusing eyes on her face.

She wants to reach out. More than anything, Beca wants to reach out to reconnect their hands.

But it’s not safe.

They can’t act like a couple in public. Not when there are people who say things like that. Not when there are people who might hurt them.

Beca forces herself to glance over to convey this to Chloe silently – I’m trying to protect you – but Chloe looks away, her eyes dropping to the display case. She shifts, putting a few inches of empty space between herself and Beca.

A heavy lump forming in her throat, Beca looks back behind the kiosk. She watches the saleswoman messily wrap the eleven identical necklaces in tissue paper, moving hurriedly and glancing around anxiously. Heart sinking, Beca wonders if they’d somehow put this woman at risk just for shopping there. She isn’t sure if she should apologize or make some suggestion about the mall security, but her voice lodges behind the growing mass in her throat.

Chloe hasn’t moved. Beca isn’t sure if she’s even breathed.

“Here,” the woman behind the kiosk says roughly, startling Beca. It’s the first word she’s spoken since they arrived. The necklaces, all wrapped, have been placed in gift bag on the counter, with the total price for them displayed on the computer. Beca nods her thanks and hands over her debit card with trembling fingers. The woman swipes and hands it back, Beca signs the receipt without recognizing her own signature, and the bag is shoved in her hand and they’re free to go.

Before Beca knows what’s happening, Chloe is stalking away, refusing to look back. Beca can only follow, jamming her debit card back into her bag haphazardly and half-jogging to keep up. Chloe sets a breakneck pace, her feet hitting the ground – right, left, right, left – more quickly than Beca can manage to keep up with. Red curls duck and weave through people – past a group of teenagers, past a middle-aged man and woman holding hands (why do they get to hold hands?) – as if she’s trying to lose Beca in the crowd.

“Chloe, wait!”

She doesn’t look back.

Beca’s ears are ringing.

She follows Chloe on autopilot, her mind whirling and body quaking.

Time moves in odd gallops.

They’re leaving the kiosk.

They’re walking past the stores they’d already tried – Chloe hasn’t looked back yet.

They’re exiting the mall – surely, Chloe’s about to stop and wait for her. (She doesn’t stop.)

They’re at Chloe’s car – Chloe’s steps, right, left, right, left.

She wonders for a moment, as Chloe climbs into the driver’s seat, if the passenger door will even open for her when she gets there. Chloe shuts her door and starts the car before Beca even touches the handle. When she does, the door does open for her, and she swings herself in and gets the door closed only an instant before Chloe pulls forward from her parking space. Beca scrabbles for her seatbelt, clicking it into place as Chloe drives out of the lot, cutting off another driver at the exit.

The radio is off; Chloe must have turned it off after climbing into the car, because it had been blasting on their way there. They’d sung along with it. That seems like days ago, rather than barely two hours.

Darkness has officially fallen outside, making the interior of the car small and suffocating. Beca glances over; Chloe’s knuckles are while on the wheel, her form rigid in the seat, and jaw clenched so tightly Beca isn’t sure if she’ll ever speak again. Her eyes never waver from the road. A hole opening in her chest, Beca turns to stare out the passenger window without seeing. She shifts in her seat, her movements loud in the otherwise silent car.

She has never felt so lonely in Chloe’s presence.

I was trying to protect you.

Time continues to move in strange, jerky dollops, and in what could be hours or seconds, Chloe pulls up to the Bella house. Beca sees many of the upstairs lights are on, but not the main living room, and relief washes over her at the thought of avoiding the Bellas tonight.

Chloe parks the car and turns it off. Beca half-expects her to just get out and walk away again, but she doesn’t. Instead, she sits and stares down at her lap, her fingers twisting together.

Somehow, this is even scarier than Chloe walking away from her.

Beca wants to reach out, to soothe the tension she senses between Chloe’s shoulders, but she knows her touch would be unwelcome.

So, she waits, and starts counting in order to keep hold of her sanity.

She gets to thirty-seven before Chloe sighs deeply and looks over at her, making eye contact for the first time since the kiosk. The dullness of her eyes is horrifying.

“Do you still want to be with me?” Chloe asks, looking more afraid than Beca has ever seen her.

Yes. Yes, more than anything.

It’s still a fucking disgusting sin, even if you fags are able to pick out rings.

“I…”

She hesitates just a second too long, lost in her own fear of the world.

Chloe’s face pales and, in one fluid motion, she unbuckles her seatbelt and opens her car door. She steps out and closes it, then jogs to the Bella house.

“No, I – wait!” Beca shouts, but Chloe doesn’t look back. She goes inside the house and slams the front door behind her.

Beca’s frozen to her seat, staring dumbly at the house in shock. Two seconds pass, then four, then six, then her brain screams at her to move.

She rips off the seatbelt, swearing when it gets caught on her hand, and shoulders open the car door. She throws herself out, leaving behind the bag of necklaces and slamming the door closed behind her, and then she’s running, actually full-out running for the front door. She flies up the porch steps, flings open the door, and launches herself inside.

A bedroom door slams upstairs, and she knows it can only be Chloe’s. Setting her jaw against the panic threatening to engulf her, Beca bounds up the steps, taking them two at a time. She reaches the second-floor landing and rushes to Chloe’s bedroom door, hand flying to the handle to push her way inside.

Her heart stops.

For the first time ever, Chloe’s door is locked against her.

#bechloe #bechloe fic #my writing #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pitch perfect fanfic #i'm nobody's but yours #chapter twenty-two #tw for homophobia and slurs #tw for internalized homophobia #sorry about this one #also ends on a cliff-hanger!

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agent-hood · 5 years

Text

Blue Monday, ch.2

It was frightening how easy Parker settled into staying with Harry. After a brief argument of chivalry vs. comfort vs. convenience, it was decided that since Parker only slept about four hours maximum anyways, Harry would continue to use the bed as normal while she would use it while he was away ‘at work’.

Unable to resist, she asked him what he did and laughed to herself as he sputtered for only a moment before answering that he was a tailor’s apprentice. It would have been cute if he didn’t immediately turn around and ask what her job was (especially since she had mentioned that it was what qualified her to help him with his).

“I work for a foreign diplomat, but there’s currently some issues going on so until further notice the US office is closed and I’m without a job.”

“Then... what are you doing here in England?”

“Uh... my friends.” She said quickly, thankful for the one improv class she took freshman year in college and that her actual job made her so comfortable with lying.

“They bought me a ticket as a sort of ‘forced vacation’. Only they’re kind of idiots so the return date is six months instead of six weeks. It’s fine though, I just need to find a quick job in the meantime though that doesn’t ask too many questions. Have to keep my security clearance.”

Thankfully pre-agent Harry was fairly gullible, or she was just a better liar than she thought, because he helped her compile a list of potential places she should look at over breakfast. That had been another argument she quickly won, the scent of food she had taken the liberty of making winning over Harry’s need to play host.

“Then there’s the green grocer down the way...” he mumbled, chewing on the end of pencil he was using to circle various ‘want ads’ in the paper as he absentmindedly fed Hampton the rest of his bacon with the unoccupied hand.

“Well I think we have a good start at least. Ready to get going?” Parker said as she finished the dishes. Normally, she would have no problem with the process, but it was a little different when she couldn’t talk about her past experience, or where she came from, or when she came from. Thankfully she had Harry there to at least walk her through this part of the process otherwise she’d starve before her six months were up.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea for him to be off-lead?” Harry asked as he locked the door behind them, eyeing Hampton warily as if he were afraid he’d sprint at any moment.

“Oh Harry, soon you will learn.” Parker sang as she followed him into the street. “Hampton is certifiably the best boy ever. Never walks off, doesn’t make a huge mess minus the drool, and he sings with you in the shower. Plus,” she said, hefting up Hampton into her arms like a baby. “Look at that face. How can you look into those eyes and doubt him~?”

“Well now I’m wondering if we shouldn’t be looking for jobs more geared towards manual labor, how much does he weigh? 15 stone? And you just pick him up like a baby.”

“A mothers love knows no weakness.” She said matter-of-factly as thy approached the first place. She plopped Hampton down and asked Harry to wish her luck as she went in... only for it to not work out. So she tried again with the next place, and the next, and the one after that. Methodically they made their way down the list, until they sat morosely in a cafe, lethargically stirring their drinks and cursing their fortune.

“It may just take some time is all. You shouldn’t get discouraged by today.” Harry said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder in what was clearly an uncomfortable gesture.

“You’re right. I’ll try again tomorrow. Now c’mon, it’s getting dark and tonight’s your first lesson.” Harry quickly finished his tea and paid the bill as Parker walked out to the street, lights starting to come on and fight against the quickly darkening sky.

“So I’m thinking someplace small, with just a handful of people and music that isn’t too... hey what’s that?” She trailed off, distracted by a flashing neon sign coming from a nearby alley.

“Hmm? Oh uh- Parker- I wouldn’t... maybe we should just keep going.” Harry fretted, trailing behind her as she plowed ahead, finally coming upon the front entrance of a hidden ‘adult’ store.

“...oh my goodness...”

“Yes that’s what I was trying to warn you-“ “This is perfect!” She shouted, nearly jumping in excitement.

“I beg your pardon?” Harry’s eyes went wide at her jubilation, not seeing that the answer to her problems was right in front of them.

“A smut store! This is exactly what I’ve been looking for and I didn’t even know it! They don’t ask too many questions, the pay is decent, and nobody wants to work their so they probably- oop, yup! Right here there’s a ‘help wanted’ sign. C’mon let’s go!” She said excitedly, grabbing his wrist and dragging him behind her.

The inside was exactly as she pictured it: Walls various shades of pink and red, stacks of magazines, walls lined with various toys and lingerie sets, and to top it all off, a staircase to another room labeled ‘peep show’. The guy behind the counter took one look at them and politely let them know they had stopped renting the ‘viewing rooms’ to couples.

“Oh! No nothing like that- I actually saw your ‘help wanted’ sign outside?”

“Sorry sweetheart, we’re full on dancers up there. The only position is ‘clerk’, and that includes cleanup.”

“I don’t see a problem so long as there’s rubber gloves and bleach.”

“...alright then. Pays 3 quid an hour shift starts at noon.”

“Sounds great. I’ll see you tomorrow at noon then?” Parker stuck out her hand and was pleased to receive a firm handskahe in agreement. She turned to beam at Harry and share the good news, but he wasn’t there.

She found him close to hyperventilating near the edge of the alley. Hampton was whimpering and pawing at his back where he was leaned against the brick wall, but Harry seemed singularly focused on freaking out.

“Harry... what’s wrong?”

“Parker, I... I don’t think you should work there.”

“Why not? It’s been the only lead I’ve had and they’re already willing to start me tomorrow. I’d like to not leech too much off of you while I’m here. It’s bad enough I’m taking over your couch, I should at least pay some kind of rent.”

As she was speaking Harry bolted upright and began speed-walking away from her, leaving Parker scrambling to rush behind him and get a word in edgewise. Thankfully his flat wasn’t too far so it didn’t take long for her to catch up.

“Harry what the shit! Why are you running?!”

“I am not running, I am simply moving to a more appropriate location for this conversation which we are not having because you will not be working there.” He said with no room for argument. But he was about to get a harsh lesson in that.

“You haven’t given me a legitimate reason as to why not- and besides, it’s not like you’ll be working there so I don’t get what’s gotten up your ass about this!”

“It’s a shop for perverts.” He hissed, half as a warning and half a secret. Parker was floored- he really wasn’t the Harry she knew.

“And?!”

“What do you mean ‘and’?”

“I mean ‘and’! What’s so wrong with ‘perverts’?”

“It’s not- I don’t- it’s-!” He sputtered, face going red and a sudden well of tears springing forth. Parker felt as though she had uncovered a sudden bear trap and was in the single moment before it sprang and snapped her foot off. She immediately went to him, guiding him to sit where he immediately collapsed in on himself.

“Harry what’s wrong? It’s alright.” She placed a light hand on his shoulder, in what she hoped was a comforting gesture, but ready to give him space if he needed.

“I... I think I’m broken.”

“What do you mean?”

And he told her. All about his confusion that he couldn’t tell whether or not he liked girls or guys, or anyone. And the turmoil, instilled from an early age, that came along with it that sort of deviation from the expectations and ‘norms’ of society.

“Harry,” She said, taking his face in her hands, wiping the tracts of tears from his cheeks. “I know my words don’t hold much weight, with how little I’ve known you, but along with that, I- a complete stranger, can definitively say: You are not broken. The world can be unkind, and that unkindness can be louder than everything else- but the best defense against that unkindness is to just... be yourself. Agressively.”

“Aggressively? Won’t that... I’m not sure, drive people away?”

“Not the ones who matter. I’m still here- see? And so long as it’s convenient for you I will be for some time.“

“And you don’t think less of me for my more perversive tendencies?”

“If I did it’d be very hypocritical of me. And you’re not as uncommon as you think- Freddie Mercury and David Bowie: they feel like you do and they’re the biggest rock stars of all time.”

Seeing his smile breakthrough finally, Parker couldn’t help but grin herself. She bumped his shoulder lightly with her own.

“There we go. Now I know we were supposed to hit the pub tonight, but I think it may be better to stay in? We can get some junk food and listen to records and you can use Hampton as a blanket tonight.”

“That... yeah that sounds perfect right about now.”

#agent hood #harry hart #harry/parker #harry hart x oc #blue monday #hampton the bargheist #cw: internalized homophobia #baby-harry is a hot mess who cant deal with himself

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thenoblehouseofdayne · 6 years

Text

A Price {Brandon Stark x Targaryen!Reader}

@legendsaresooftenwarnings requested; “Targaryen!reader x Brandon Stark where she convinces the Mad King to marry them so ‘they can’t revolt when their lady is a princess’?”

Warnings; very shallow/superficial thoughts, manipulative behavior, light sexual undertones, sort of OOC Brandon?

He was quite stoic, the eldest Stark. He carried the weight and posturing of a King without a crown, carrying a scowl very similar to your father’s- before the madness took hold. His stoicism had initially repelled you- finding him dull, compared to the Dornishmen and Knights from warmer and more appealing backgrounds, but something always seemed to draw you back.

It might’ve been his looks, he was very tempting with his strong stature and appealing physique. It might’ve been his voice, the deep lowness of his words sending a subtle shiver down your spine and seeding indecent thoughts within you. It might’ve even been his swordsmanship, watching the way he so confidently wielded his blade, watching the tautness of his muscles flex and stretch as he rounded the training yard, imagining what sort of things he could do if only you asked-

It was safe to say you’d been admiring Brandon Stark for some time. So, it came as no great relief when the news reached the capital that the Starks were considering rebellion, or at least, secession. Plagued by thoughts of never seeing your imagined lover again, you quickly found your way to your father’s study, knowing he’d likely be up to little at such a late hour.

Knocking, you smoothed out your skirts and took a quick breath, allowing a pleasant expression to overtake your face, waiting before he beckoned you inside. “Father.” You greeted sweetly, pressing a kiss to his aging cheek, before offering a soft curtsy and seating yourself at his request.

His desk was littered with maddened scribbles, and an ink-pot had been tipped over onto a map of the Seven Kingdoms, long dried, a permanent stain over the North. His violet eyes watched you insistently. “Well, what is it? I haven’t got all day, I’m very busy-” he seemed to lose his train of thought as he peered down at his papers, beginning to mumble a little to himself as if lost in his mind.

“I’ve heard of our troubles in the North.” You spoke delicately, unknowing of how he would react, but forging on ahead anyways. “There’s talk of rebellion, of secession, of-” you took a heavy breath as though this had been plaguing you greatly. “Of the dissolution of our great empire.”

Your father grumbled a little, pushing the thinning white hairs out of his face.

“-and I thought it would be prudent to offer myself as a solution.”

This rather quickly caught his attention. “What?” He demanded, a little caught off guard, and a little offended, at first glance. “Why in Seven Hells would you-”

“The revolution, father.” You carefully corrected him, your hand lifting to hold his tenderly. “The North. Perhaps if I married one of the Starks, they would-”

“No, no,” he interrupted, looking rather vexed. “You’re to marry Rhaegar, and-”

“If I married one of the Starks,” you continued calmly, “they would not rebel.”

This gave him pause for a second.

“Brandon Stark is the oldest, and he’s unwed. If we send him a royal decree, petitioning him to wed me, he has no reason to refuse.”

“The bloodline must remain pure-”

“The bloodline,” you interjected again, a bit more insistently this time. “will not continue if we are overthrown. Please, father, consider the prosperity this will bring to our empire.” You squeezed his hand lightly. “You know this is the smartest move.” You cooed, allowing him to register the idea as his own.

“Yes, I’ll,” he began to fumble for a quill, finding he had none and growling a little under his breath. “I’ll write to the Starks and demand that they-”

“Perhaps, let’s invite them to Kings’ Landing first. The politics can wait until they arrive.” You suggested, handing him the quill you’d found near your feet, filthy and abandoned, but functional.

“Yes, they’ll come to the city and-” he began to write unintelligibly, but you’d just as quickly tuned out his babbles, elation filling your chest as you realized your scheme had worked! The first bit, at least. The next part was a little trickier, convincing Brandon Stark that you wanted nothing to do with him, but love him all the same.

The Starks arrived a few days after their response, riding dull gray and black horses into the city, accompanied without a carriage, no women or children to accommodate, besides Lyanna, who rode beside her brother on horseback.

You were dressed as the Targaryen daughter you were playing, a plumed skirt making you look rather regal as you descended the steps, Rhaegar holding your arm at your side, looking rather intently at the cracks in the cobblestone, not paying much attention to anything.

Brandon was the first to receive you, but not the first to speak. He bent down to press a kiss to your hand, glancing to your brother and offering a quick nod before detaching himself and standing beside his horse.

“I hope your travels were pleasant.” Rhaegar offered halfheartedly, a polite half-smile coming to rest over his face, releasing your arm now, but keeping one eye on you in a rather hawk-like way.

“Decent.” Brandon spoke, his voice deeper than you remembered, sending an immediate shock wave to your lower regions. “But I can’t complain.”

Lyanna dismounted as well, and Rhaegar gestured for a stable-hand to tend to the horses.

“If I may,” he offered rather quickly as a silence settled over the four of you, “I could show you to your chambers?”

“Divine.” Lyanna interjected rather boisterously. “I’m half-starved from the ride, and-”

Rhaegar had already begun up the steps, casting you a glance over his shoulder, something a bit perceptive and perhaps a little warning.

Lyanna quickly followed, the rest of her story bouncing off the stone and carrying down to the two of you.

Brandon hadn’t moved, and watched you, curiosity in his eyes for a second before he stifled it. “You’ve had enough of your brother’s tours?” he guessed, surprisingly humorous about it.

You feigned a blush and averted your gaze. “No, I suppose I just-” you sighed a little, smoothing over your skirt again and avoiding his gaze. “I wanted to meet the man I’m going to marry in a few days.”

His expression hardened quickly. “My Lady-”

“No, it’s alright-” your expression was a little heavy, and you inwardly praised yourself for the affect you seemed to be having on him, as he moved to comfort you. “It’s just pre-marital nerves.”

There was a long pause. “Would you like to show me the palace?” He offered a little hesitantly, but with a firmness to his voice. “Maybe it could give us a chance to talk.”

Nodding, you hefted your skirts and turned, not taking the arm he offered as you scaled the steps, your eyes already cast towards the stones, praising your Gods that you hadn’t slipped or made a fool of yourself yet. There was always time to backslide, but you thankfully seemed to be following your plan rather plainly.

“-and this is where you’ll be sleeping, your sister’s room is right across the hall and-” you turned and paused, suddenly, as you noted the peculiar expression on Brandon’s face. “What?”

“I am trying to perceive the answer to a question I asked myself earlier, and I’m frankly, flummoxed.”

You motioned for him to continue.

“Did you plan to marry your brother?” He put, bluntly.

Taking a surprised inhale, you thought for a second. “No.” You answered honestly, meeting his gaze evenly. “I always sort of thought that the purity of the Targaryen line wouldn’t last too much longer, eventually, something or someone would push us into expanded the line, and I can’t say I’m upset by that.”

“Why?” He asked, surveying the large chambers that had been prepared for him, absently. “Why aren’t you-”

“I’m not really one for tradition.” You spoke a little sharply, softening your expression as he turned to you. “I think that most of them are outdated or silly anyways, so why would I-”

With a quickness, Brandon grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his lips to yours, aimlessly.

You wheezed a little as he released you, staring up at him in shock. “Why would you-”

“Because, I don’t like traditions either.” He spoke plainly. “But unlike you, I’m not a bad liar.”

{Part two? Feedback? Requests? Shoot me a message or leave a comment below.}

#brandon stark #brandon stark imagine #brandonstarkxreader #brandon stark x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones imagine

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deliverydefresas · 6 years

Text

masters of the scene

i was supposed to post this yesterday but one of my pups tried to kill me so, it was a sad day. (no but really, i felt like crap yesterday, sorry)

there’s a bonus of this part coming v soon that i’d planned for today but it obvs hasnt happened so pls be patient if it takes a bit more ily

as always, not proofread, and, just like last one, this is half matteo’s pov half luna’s thanks

in case you’ve missed any part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 (this one is 6.5)

AU: Matteo Balsano is a famous singer who has been crushing on this one girl he saw every day behind a window many years ago, back when he first started recording his debut album and inspired his first big hit, “Princesa”. Luna Valente, professional Olympic skater turned actress is at a local (and very popular) talk show to promote her breakout movie. This is where it all starts.

IS THERE TROUBLE IN PARADISE FOR SOLTTEO?

New pictures of what looked as a strained interaction between the couple have surfaced today. If you’re wondering why, we’re here to tell you it’s got a name: Ámbar Smith.

The young actress and singer were seen – and photographed- in the middle of a heated argument moments before Matteo was left alone with Sol, leading us all to believe Benson’s cold attitude was caused by Smith’s presence in her boyfriend’s life.

Witnesses affirm Smith was ‘all over’ the singer before he confronted her in the middle of the restaurant. “She was attached to his arm as soon as she was close enough. [Matteo] looked angry and whispered something to her, probably to leave him alone. After that, she went nuts. [Ámbar] started talking louder about how it was all [Sol´s] fault.” According to our source, Smith calmed down as soon she realized Sol was in the room with them. “It was like a switch had turned on her. She smiled at [Benson] and her friend, and then left with the other girl, leaving Balsano alone with his girlfriend.”

What happened after that? “Sol’s smile looked forced, while he tried to lighten the mood between them. It didn’t seem to work, because she got all serious and told [Matteo] to join the group upstairs, saying they’d have ‘a talk’ later. I would act the same if my boyfriend’s ex were all over him.”

Smith and Balsano had been on a on and off relationship for over five years, before Balsano started seeing ex-professional skater, Sol Benson. Are you #TeamMambar or #TeamSoltteo?

For more on these three, click here!

She was getting dizzy. It was probably a downside of twirling in her dress so many times.

She just couldn’t help it. She didn’t know how Yam had done it, but the way the skirt moved as she twirled not only looked pretty, but was a lot of fun, too. Luna must’ve twirled at least fifty times the last half an hour, having Yam finished with her in less than fifteen minutes after they arrived at her shop. She’d done enough dresses for her not to get them ready on the firsts fittings, or so she said. She couldn’t say the same for Nina, though, as she’d been with Yam for over thirty minutes by now.

“Red looks so pretty on you.” Jim complimented her, “me, on the other side, will probably need to die my hair a shade darker if I want to look decent on it.”

She stopped her twirling, casting an incredulous look to the redhead. “What? But it looks gorgeous on you! Yam picked it up thinking of you!”

“Yam picked it because she’s getting married on Valentine’s Day, and the theme is ‘love red’.” Jim snorted. “I’m sure that red being Ramiro’s favorite color, and Yam’s favorite shade of lipstick play a nice part on it, too.”

While Luna admitted she was oblivious of her surroundings like, 60 percent of the time (or maybe 65. Or 70. Sometimes even 75%), when it came to her friends, she was anything but. Something was bothering the sweet Valencian woman. “Jim, are you okay?”

“Of course, I am, why do you ask?”

Was she imagining things now? “I don’t know, you just- I mean, you sound a little off, that’s all.”

Her friend opened her mouth then closed it quickly after a second. She repeated it a couple times, until she ended up pouting. “Yam’s getting married.”

She almost retorted with an ‘obviously’, but figured it was probably rude. So, she went with the universal answer to everything. “Oh?”

Jim sighed. “You don’t get it, Nina’s not dating anyone, much less engaged and soon to be married!”

“Well, no. Maybe if you explained to me what the problem is? I thought you liked Ramiro, and how he treated her?”

“I do. It’s just… She’s my best friend. And she’s getting married. Soon she’ll be having babies, creating a family, maybe she’ll get a dog and I’ll be here, single, and alone!”

Yikes. “You’ll have me! And Nina! Besides, I seriously doubt Yam’ll have children any time soon. And I doubt even more she’ll forget about you. You’re Jim and Yam, and like Yin and Yang, you’re interconnected!”

“That’s super cheesy, but thanks Luna.” Her friend sighed, smiled, and went to hug her. “I guess I just got the jitters… It feels like everyone is pairing off and then it’ll be just me. And Nina.” That only confused her.

“Who’s everyone?”

“Y’know, Ramiro and Yam, Pedro and Delfi, Matteo and you, Simón and his new girlfriend…”

Luna had to take a step back, breaking the hug altogether. “I’m going to ignore the part about Matteo and me, because it’s a lie, but, Simón has a girlfriend?”

“You didn’t know?” Jim gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. “I thought you knew! He’s your best friend!”

“Who is it? Why hasn’t anyone said anything to me about it?” she cried out, both surprised and offended they’d kept it a secret from her. They had no secrets, never had and she thought they’d never have. Of course, someone always tried to keep them, but they usually told someone else and that person told someone else and that person- it went on and on. Point being, keeping a secret was pointless and she couldn’t believe her friends, much less Simón, would do it.

“We thought you knew, you’re his best friend after all! The thing is, no one knows who it is. He keeps insisting there’s no one, but Yam told me, that Ramiro told her, that Pedro told him he’s been writing love songs. And we all know he only writes love songs when he-”

“When he has a crush! That idiot is seeing someone, and he didn’t tell me!” She huffed out, her excitement for twirling completely gone now. Now she just had to wait for lunch, and that man better be prepared because he was going to meet her bad cop side, all interrogative and annoying. She’d have to apologize with Ámbar for it but- “Oh. My. God.” It hit her then. Was this why he wanted Nina and her to have lunch with them both? To present Ámbar as his girlfriend to his best girlfriends? Now that she remembered it, the day Matteo had called her last, and she’d implied Matteo had written Princesa for her, Simón had flinched. It made sense, right? That he didn’t want to think about another guy writing a love song about his girl? Is that what had prompted him to start writing love songs?

“What?! Why that ‘oh my god’?” Jim asked excitedly, eager to gossip.

“I think I know who it is.” She had to take a deep breath. “Out of all possibilities I didn’t, for sure, see this one coming, holy chalupas.”

Jim squealed. “Who, who, who?!”

“Jim, who are Nina and I meeting for lunch today?”

Her friend frowned, confused. “Simón and Ámb-” Jim interrumpted herself with a gasp. “NO WAY! That’s like, impossible!”

But was it? She’d seen weirder things happening. “Do I need to remind you of the Nico incident two years ago?”

Jim pursed her lips. “That was a mistake, but you’re right. I just can’t picture those two together. It’s like a bad-ass eagle dating a mouse. One of them will end up eating the other. And it won’t be the mouse.”

“What are you two talking about over here? Mouses?” Yam asked, coming out of the fitting room’s door, with Nina right behind. Jim squealed again.

“You won’t believe what we just found out!” Luna was quick to stop her, pinching her arm. “Ouch!” the redhead threw her a puzzling look, not getting why she couldn’t tell Yam.

“We don’t know for sure what’s happening there, we could be wrong for all we know.” She said in a hurried whisper, knowing well that Yam and Nina were getting more suspicious by the second.

“But-” Jim tried to protest. When she pinched her arm again, she relented. “Fine. But I want all details of your lunch or I will spill to Yam, and she will to Ramiro, and he will-”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it, Jim.” Luna had to giggle at the situation. Jim trying to be intimidating was like a puppy trying to be intimidating, adorable. She turned to her other friends then, giving them an innocent grin to their inquisitive looks. “We were just talking about… computers. Mine is giving me problems and Jim said the cause won’t be the mouse.”

Damn, she was a terrible liar. Jim was turning red from holding in her laughter, while Yam looked skeptical. Nina, looked thrown aback. “You don’t have a mouse.”

“Which is why it won’t be the cause, Nina, please. Catch up.” She giggled nervously. When her best friend tried to talk, she changed the subject. “So, are you done with Nina’s dress, Yam?”

Yam nodded, her eyes shining with pride. “Yes, I still have a couple modifications to make, but it’s mostly done, thankfully. Now all you two- “she pointed to Jim and her “-need to do is to not gain or lose any weight, so they’ll fit perfectly on February.” Her tone was cheery, but even Luna could tell she was warning them not to mess it up. She wanted to say she could’ve left all the tailoring to Mora but contained herself from doing so. Yam wasn’t a bridezilla by any means, but she could be scary when it came to her designs, and who could or couldn’t touch them up, especially on her wedding.

“We promise we won’t mess it up Yam. Are you ready to go, N? I bet Simón and Ámbar are waiting for us right now.” Nina threw her an odd look.

“Are you okay, Luna? Did your hot chocolate have too much caffeine in it? This is Simón we’re talking about. He’s always late.” She had her there.

“Maybe so but I’m starving, Nina!” Her friend still had that odd look on her face. The one that said ‘I know you’re up to something’ look. After what felt like a century, Nina nodded.

“Alright, we’ll go. We’ll meet you for dinner tomorrow, girls.” She said her goodbyes to Jim and Yam, waiting for her to do the same.

Luna apologized to Yam, who simply waved her off with, making her promise she’d bring dessert tomorrow’s night. Jim threatened to burn down her skates if she didn’t call her after with all the scoop. As soon as they were out, Nina started questioning her.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

She really wanted to, really, really, wanted to. “Not yet. Sorry, Nina.”

Her friend opened her car, waiting until both were in it to talk again. “Is this about the interview?” she asked softly, turning on the engine. Luna sighed.

“No. And I really don’t want to discuss it right now, please? And before you tell me I only have a couple of days, I know, I will think about it later, just not right now.”

“Okay, okay. I’m here if you want to talk, you know that, right?”

She smiled at that. “Yes, I know, thank you, N.”

“Good. Now, I might’ve done something while you went for the coffee with Tamara…”

“You asked out Matteo’s friend?” Luna guessed with a laugh, expecting a rotund no from her.

She choked on her own saliva when Nina answered with a “kinda.”

“What?! Are you serious?!”

“Again, kinda. I just told them they could join us for lunch.”

“Them? Matteo, too?” Nina nodded. “Why?”

“I felt bad for him, Luna. He looked so sad you were mad at him, and he promised he was going to tell you the truth.”

“But I told him to call me, so we could talk, and he could explain later, Nina. Not today. I’m still mad at him!”

“That was before you did that! How was I supposed to know you were going to give him a chance this soon? I thought it’d take another week, minimum.”

She sighed exasperatedly. “I don’t want to fight with you about this.” Nina looked at her regretfully.

“I’m sorry, Luna. I know you’re stressed with everything that’s happening right now, I truly thought I was helping you… that’s why I’m telling you I did it, so you’re not taken off guard when they appear out of nowhere.”

“I know, N. Do Ámbar and Simón know they’re coming, though?” If they were thinking about announcing their relationship status to Nina and her, she doubted they’d do it with Matteo and Gastón there. She knew Simón enough to know this.

Nina grimaced. “No. And it worries me.”

“Why?”

“Delfi mentioned her while you were gone, and Matteo seemed very mad at her for some reason. I don’t think they’re on the best terms.”

“Mad? Why would he be mad?” Last time she spoke to Ámbar she didn’t sound mad at him, so it had to be a new development. She couldn’t think of a reason eith- Oh. Maybe he was jealous of her new relationship? It had been years since they broke up, though, so for sure they’d moved on by now, no? Or maybe he saw her as the one that got away?

“Luna?”

“Huh?”

“I said, I think Ámbar did something she wasn’t supposed to do. I heard Delfi telling him she tried to stop her but couldn’t.” Why would Delfi try to stop her from dating Simón?

“That doesn’t make any sense.” She thought to herself out loud, but when Nina looked at her questionably, she tried to come up with an excuse. “I mean, this is Ámbar we’re talking about. She’s always professional.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, L?” Now she was getting her friend worried.

“Yes, yes. My brain is just jumping to conclusions about stuff.”

“About Ámbar and Matteo?” It should scare her how much Nina knew about her without telling her beforehand; however, the relief of knowing she didn’t have to say it out loud was bigger. Besides, she doubted this was something to fear. “Simón told me you two had a talk about them before he went M.I.A on you. Does the thought of them being together years ago bother you?”

“What? No! I didn’t even know him back then, Nina. And right now, we’re mere acquaintances, if that. We’ve both dated people before we-” she cut herself then. They weren’t dating each other, she’d say so just two seconds before and yet, her brain didn’t seem to think the same. It was overlining ridiculous.

As always, Nina knew when not to push it. “I know but you have to admit, babe, that even your mouth is already thinking of you two as more. I’m not saying you have to date him ASAP, but maybe if you acknowledge to yourself the possibility of being, y’know, that, then maybe it could get easier for you and him. Lying to yourself will only delude your judgment.” Not.

“I’m not even sure I want us to be ‘that’, N. I don’t know him that well, and quite frankly, not for that long either.”

“It’s been three months, Luna.”

“Two months we didn’t see, much less talk to each other! Then he goes and ignores me for other two weeks. That’s roughly a week-ish of time!”

“So, it’s a crush, nothing wrong with that. The possibility is still there.”

“Even if that’s true – which, I’m not saying it is- there’s also a possibility he isn’t interested. And crushes come and go, soon one of us will move into someone else.”

“That only happens when you don’t let the crush grow into something else.” Nina pointed out, daring her to contradict her once more.

She was never one to back out.

“Maybe I won’t.”

“Okay, so, do we come up to them and say ‘oh, what a surprise, can we sit with you?’ or like, wait for them to invite us over?”

“Luna doesn’t know we’re jumping into them, though, so I doubt she invites us over. Besides, where would we wait for them to notice us? We don’t even know when they’re arriving either. Are we going to stand in a corner for who knows how long just waiting for them? You’re already confessing to your creepiness later, the less creepy we can make you look today, the better.”

“If I’m already confessing to it later, why not go all out?”

“Because we want to get you a girlfriend, not a restraining order.”

Gastón had him there. “So, what do we do?”

“We look for a table and wait until they get here. Nina knows we’re planning to meet them, she’ll make her sit with us.” He was about to agree, when a hand grabbed his left arm. Thinking it was a fan, he prepared himself to politely ask them to let it go.

He couldn’t help but scowl when he realized who it was.

Ámbar arched her brow, “what? We just came to say hi. Right, Simón?” she drew attention to her companion, who smiled at his friend, frowning at him when he looked his way. Ámbar’s satisfied smirk confirmed to him, that she knew he was pissed and was using the guy as a public shield. If he had to guess, he’d bet Delfi had warned her. “I told Simón I thought I saw you getting out of your car from our table.”

“She did.” He confirmed, extending his hand to shake Gastón’s, and then his; the grip a bit too tight. Nina wasn’t the only one offended in Luna’s behalf. “Are you waiting for a table?”

Gastón answered for both. “We just arrived, so no, but we’re hoping to get a table on the private terrace.” Ámbar faked surprise, her small gasp being a tell-tale, as she only did that on her movies. Simón’s frown deepened, not really buying it, but he didn’t comment on it, either.

“What a coincidence! We’re sitting over there, maybe we can ask the manager to bring over two more chairs?”

“I don’t know, Ámbar, we’re waiting for Nina and Luna, remember? Maybe we should wait until they’re here…”

“Don’t be silly, Simón. I’m sure they’ll be fine with it, what’s that that Luna always tells us, huh? The more the merrier.” The poor guy either bought the excuse, or he simply knew it was pointless to fight with someone as stubborn as Ámbar. “Excellent. Shall we return to our table, now?” She tugged on his arm, still being held by her hand, nudging them to walk. Knowing her like he did, she was probably trying to avoid talking to him alone by dragging them all to a more crowded place. The small waiting area wasn’t as filled with people as one would think. Yelao’s was, after all, a low-key place.

“Actually, why don’t they go on first? I wanted to discuss something with you.” He told her, loud enough for their companions to get the hint. Gastón was about to protest, his eyes telling him that it wasn’t a good idea.

“Can’t it be later? It would be rude of us to leave our friends alone.” Her nails pressed into his arm, her blue eyes staring right at his own, a silent warning. He couldn’t have cared less.

“Oh, if you have stuff to discuss, don’t worry about us, it’s okay. The girls aren’t here yet, and I’ve been meaning to talk to Gastón about something too.” He mentally thanked Simón. If he wanted to talk to his friend, too, then Gastón couldn’t join Ámbar in her objections.

Before they left, Gastón made sure to give him one last ‘be careful’ look, shaking his head in disapproval.

“I’m going to kill that idiot later.” The blonde muttered lowly, letting out a huff. She sighed before turning her body towards him. “Okay, I know you’re upset but this is not the place, nor the time to bitch out to me, remember?” She showed her pinkie finger, moving it around for a couple of seconds. He slapped it away.

“I’m not just ‘upset’! Do you know how much crap has been said about me and Luna thanks to your little stunt?” he hissed quietly, trying his best to not raise his voice.

“Oh, yes, poor you. Being linked to a wonderful girl and getting painted as a monogamous boyfriend for the first time in six years. Tragic.” She put her hand on her chest, mocking sympathy.

“Can you be serious for a moment? Put yourself in her shoes, she’s been harassed by fans and media about a non-existent relationship thanks to you.”

“Oh, yes, give me a moment while I try to wonder how it must feel to be linked to you by the media, in a romantic way.” She deadpanned, “how it must feel having people discrediting your talent and projects, for years, by always bringing up your name and wondering if I’d still be relevant if it wasn’t for you. Gee, I wonder how that must feel.”

“This isn’t about you-”

“Ah, no, of course not. This is about you and her but somehow, it’s my fault.”

Matteo gripped his hair, trying hard not to scream in frustration at her attitude.

He wasn’t blind. And he’d never been when it came to her as she was, after all, one of his closest friends. Matteo knew it hadn’t been easy for her to deal with all the shit the media had said about her in the past – to be painted as the woman on the side, the one who’d help him ‘cheat’ on other imaginary women. He also knew that, while some papers (mainly the ones both had exclusivity with) said it was Luna who he was cheating with, the majority painted Ámbar as the one who just couldn’t let go of him and see him happy with Luna. She’d expressed her discomfort a couple times before but knew there wasn’t much that could be done. He felt bad, had done so since they broke up all those years ago.

“Ámbar, please-”

“No!” she interrumpted him, “I’m done with your superhero complex. Yes, Jazmín and I planned for her to ask the question, but we didn’t make Luna answer what she did, and it was obvious she was helpless, I stepped in and stopped it. You might not agree, but I helped her back then. You think she doesn’t know? I came clean to her while we were on the promo tour, she wasn’t even as mad as you seem to be on her behalf!”

A blink. “What?”

“The fact that you’re here, acting all mighty protector on my ass, is ridiculous!”

“How was I supposed to know?!”

“By asking before you start shit, dumbass!”

He groaned lowly, knowing she was – probably- right. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t help but want to protect her. She’s just so…”

“Ugh, don’t get mushy on me. As your ex, I honestly want to know minus zero business of your new love-life.” Ámbar made a disgusted face, pretending to gag at the thought. “As your friend, though… I must admit I’m happy you’ve found her. She’s a great girl and her song does her justice.”

“I didn’t even know it would.”

“No, but your subconscious hit the nail extraordinarily.” She smirked. “Does she know about it, yet?”

“Not yet. I’m planning to break it to her slowly today.”

Ámbar sighed, “ah, yes. Delfi told me about your plans. Are you sure she’s going to agree to the group interview knowing how much of a creep you really can be?”

“You dated me, and you knew, didn’t you?”

“Well, to be honest, I thought your brain had made her up to trick you into writing songs.”

“That sounds even crazier.” Ámbar just shrugged it off. She didn’t claim sanity, either. “So, you and Simón? Don’t give me the bullcrap Delfi told me, if this was a collaboration with the RB, they’d be here too.”

“Aw, there you go again with your superhero complex.” She rolled her eyes, “we’re not dating, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Hooking up?”

“Nope. He’s doing this project as a solo, and he hasn’t told his band yet.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Ámbar pursed her lips, as if she wasn’t sure to tell him. Finally, she sighed it out.

“You didn’t hear about this from me, okay?” He nodded. “Pedro’s planning on proposing. If everything goes right, Delfi and him will be married in like, a year. She wants a baby right away, and Pedro will ask for a three-year break if it does happen.”

“I’m not getting it, how’s that related to Sim- Oh.” Simón was planning a solo career.

It was her turn to nod. “He’s preparing songs and working on small solo projects to help himself get used to it.”

“I still don’t get why he can’t just tell them.”

“Well, don’t quote me on this, but I’m sure this must be a hard decision for him, especially when you’ve been in a band for over ten years. I’m 99% sure he’s talking to Gastón about the legal stuff that comes with it right now, which sounds complicated AF as well.”

“How come you know all of this?” Matteo teased her. She rolled her eyes.

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m an awesome friend.” She then turned her eyes to the entrance of the restaurant, waving over to someone. “Your princess is here.” Ámbar whispered to him, alerting him of her presence. “I’ll take Nina and give you some time, yeah?”

“I don’t know, Nina suggested a full stomach first.” He whispered back, slowly turning his body to Luna and her friend.

“Smart girl.” She said, before throwing the newcomers a big grin. “Hi girls! Simón and I arrived a little early and look who we bumped into!” Nina returned the grin, while Luna looked like she was forcing hers. That worried him immediately. “So, Nina, want to go up first?” Blondie extended her arm to the girl, who looked at Luna for approval. When the girl nodded an okay, Ámbar lost no time in pushing Nina towards the stairs that led for the terrace, throwing him a wink before disappearing.

As soon as they were out of sight, he spoke. “What a nice surprise, no?” Luna smiled.

“Not really. Nina told me she invited you when I was out with Tamara.”

“Yikes. I’m sorry, I just… I wanted to make it right between us again.”

“I think this is becoming a habit of sorts. You, apologizing every time we see each other.”

“Well, that’s what one does when they feel bad about something.” He tried to joke, but Luna frowned. “What?”

“Matteo, do you- I mean, why do you- crap.” She fumbled over her words, her frown deepening more after each word was said. “This is a conversation I need to have with food in my stomach because I’m not making much sense right now.”

“Are you okay, Luna?” he worried over her, to which she nodded.

“Yes, sorry. I think we should go meet the others now. I’m guessing you want to have our talk later today?” He smiled.

“I would like that.” She nodded.

“Then let’s go.”

#soy luna #matteo balsano #luna valente #lutteo #sl #my sl ff #my lutteo ff #mine #my sl au #soltteo too i guess

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thelioninmybed · 6 years

Note

Imrael and Khazri meeting each other's parents. OR ALTERNATIVELY their parents meeting each other.

I started this, Anon, only to find out I’d ALREADY started it like, three years ago. That was clever of me (and leaves me even less excuse for this taking so damn long, sorry!)

The Lady Keira Arroway, protector of Dawnwood, famed beauty and socialite, tossed her flame red hair, picked her nose and wiped it under the taproom table. “I don’t know what you want me to do about it,” she said.

Although it would have been polite to wash and change his clothes before meeting with nobility, and very pleasant to sleep twelve hours or more, Imrael had gone straight from Ferris’ front gates to the nameless tavern that was Keira’s second home. His own, after the library, and his clinic before he’d set off questing. “Don’t be a dick, Keira. Talk to your father.”

She offered him an elegant shrug. “What do you think he’s going to do about it?”

“Send a weatherworker to clear the roads? I don’t know, it’s not my village. You asked me to report and that’s what I’ve done - at great personal risk no less - and the least he can do is-”

“Alright, alright, don’t shout.”

Imrael hadn’t realised that’s what he’d been doing until she said so. “It’s been a long few months,” he said at a carefully normal volume.

“Another drink?”

“Yes,” Imrael said, with feeling.

“I didn’t think anything would come of it,” Keira said, once she’d flagged down the waitress and procured two flagons of mediocre ale. “I just wanted to show the old man I was taking things seriously. He isn’t going to like this.”

“Probably not. You can tell him we killed a god on his account if that will sweeten the pot.”

“You’re a fucking liar, Rae,” she said, with a grin that crinkled up her nose and made her green eyes sparkle.

“I have not lied to you once in my entire life,” said Imrael solemnly, unaccountably relieved to feel their old, easy camaraderie returning. Two loutish students again, with no greater responsibilities than turning in their next assignments and not drinking away their stipends.

“Interesting phrasing there. Anyway, leave it in my hands. I’ll talk to Papa, sort the peasants, none of that’s important. The real question is, did it work?”

“It is important, people are dy-”

“Imrael. My friend. Don’t take this as me believing you about the god, but I can see you’ve been through something because I don’t know why else you’d be wearing that hat. I’m sure it was all very traumatic but now it’s time to get drunk and never think about any of it ever again. So. Did you, or did you not seduce that adorable goblin you’ve been pining over? All that sharing bed linens, huddling for warmth, tenderly chafing cold hands-”

“He almost died of hypothermia.”

“So you saw his cock? Why’re you being so coy? Are you- oh.” Her eyes narrowed. ”You are in love with him.”

“Keira-”

“And he doesn’t even try to deny it,” she crowed to the room at large. “Smitten! I never thought I’d see the day. Where is he? Are you finally going to introduce us properly?”

“So,” said Khazri. “What did she say?”

“Not much.” Imrael went to blow on his fingers, already numbing, and then reconsidered and intertwined them with Khazri’s gloved hand. There was a moment of awkward limpness and then he squeezed back. “She said she’d do something, just like she says she’ll pay you back when she borrows money. I’ll go annoy her tomorrow. Maybe you could come too?”

“Do you want me to threaten her?”

“No! Gods no. Keira’s heart’s in the right place, she’s just-” Imrael waved his free hand vaguely. “Rich. You should meet her because she’s my friend.” It would take some careful management and probably some more bribery to ensure she never mentioned why he and Khazri had been sent off on that ‘quest’ in the first place, but Imrael was up to it.

“I’m better at threats,” Khazri said, and Imrael could read him well enough to catch the fear that the humour overlaid and gave his hand a comforting squeeze.

“You’re wonderful at threats. Time to practice having a drink with an old friend instead. Say midday? Back here?”

“I’m not going to disappear. Again.”

“Shh. I know. Where do you usually stay when you’re in the city? I never asked.”

Khazri got that shifty look that meant he wasn’t going to answer because he knew Imrael wouldn’t like it. “Are you going back to your rooms?”

“Nah. My parents haven’t seen me in two seasons. Also their house is warmer, the sheets are cleaner and they’re obliged to feed us. Yes, I did say ‘us’ before you willfully misinterpret. You’re going to have a proper meal and sleep in a bed and not a hayloft - was it a hayloft? I knew it.”

Khazri scuffed his boot through the slushy ice in the gutter. “I don’t get on well with parents. Historically.”

“Was that a joke?” If it was, it was only in part and Imrael squeezed Khazri’s hand. “Don’t worry. You’re a significant improvement on the last partner I brought home.”

“How?”

“I’d rather not get into Eshe.”

“Oh.” And that, if nothing else, was a reason to love Khazri; he didn’t ask awkward questions.

“You can borrow some of my clothes, or my sister’s - she won’t mind and she’s closer to your height.” He hesitated. “You don’t have to do any of this.”

“But you want me to.”

“Yes.” Fumbling sex - or not so fumbling, Khazri was a very quick learner - and life-threatening drama was one thing. Friends and parents and quiet conversations, all the trappings of a life together were quite another.

“How do they feel about dogs?”

Penneth and Aruna Sovelin were good parents to a fault. As a teenager Imrael had rather wished they weren’t, and had bought home a succession of increasingly unsuitable partners, culminating in Eshe, whom they really should have taken him to task over. They hadn’t though, any more than they did when he appeared with no warning, a ragged goblin and two timber wolves upon their doorstep.

“Is there anything your friend can’t eat?” his father asked, rolling flatbread at the kitchen table, floured to the elbows.

Imrael glanced to Khazri, more from politeness than anything else. Khazi would eat bark and insects in a pinch, and the idea he’d refuse a meal of any kind was ridiculous. Unless he’d gotten it into his head that people were trying to poison him, which did happen. The conviction, not the poisoning. To the best of Imrael’s knowledge, anyway.

“I can eat,” Khazri said.

“I’m afraid we don’t have any meat for your- dogs.” To his father’s credit, he hardly stumbled.

Khazri tilted his head. Beryl’s ears flicked forwards. Jeff whined. “They don’t mind,” Khazri concluded.

“They found a dead aurochs in a snowdrift yesterday,” Imrael said reassuringly. “It was hardly rotten.”

“Oh good! I’d pet them if I weren’t baking.” Although Imrael had his mother’s height and lanky frame, there was no doubt as to where he got his temperament. ”Your mother’s finishing in the shop. Would you tell her two minutes? And please charm your clothes, dear, you’d think you’d been rolling in dead aurochs.”

“Dead aurochs is a generous assessment,” said his mother, sticking her head around the door. “What happened to you?” She cast the charms to cast off the grime herself, which was a relief; he hadn’t the will to do it himself, or do much more than flop into a chair and start shovelling lentil soup into his mouth. Half the seasoning was enchantment, his father doing what he could to compensate for ingredients too dear or foreign to get hold of here in Ferris, but so had it been throughout his childhood and the way the flavours slid, translucent, off his tongue was comforting in itself.

Like dark hair and sharp noses, curiosity ran in the family. Curiosity that, thankfully, Imrael could keep on himself as he related the story of their adventures. Not the version he’d told Keira, in which all dangers were exaggerated along with his heroism, and with more of a focus on gratefully healed peasants than ancient, murderous evils, but close enough, and that took them most of the way through supper. Khazri was quiet as ever but Imrael thought it came across as modesty and sincere appreciation for his father’s cooking; accepting a third helping was a sure way to his father’s heart, and Khazri ate like he hadn’t had a decent meal in a month (which he hadn’t; another detail Imrael glossed over).

“It’s very brave,” Imrael’s mother said when he’d stopped talking about their adventures long enough for her to say it. “Both of you. I didn’t know there even were male mercenaries.” In the same ‘I’m trying’ voice she’d used when he’d wanted to keep a jarful of snails as a pet or go to university.

“I know I’d be terrified,” Imrael’s father agreed, widening shadowed eyes. People didn’t go to elven apothecaries just for medicines and fetishes, although Imrael’s father’s were very good (and Imrael was both too old to make fetish jokes and not too old to be rapped with a wooden spoon). People came for the experience and that meant feyness and an awful lot of glitter.

“I’m not,” said Khazri. “Not really. Not a mercenary, I mean, not not terrified.”

“We’re very proud of Imrael for what he’s doing,” his mother went on doggedly. She didn’t chatter like his father did, flitting from point to point; once she’d decided she had something to say, she said it. “I hated it at first - some part of me still does - but this isn’t Faerie. We can’t make puppets of our children. Can’t seal them up in mirrors if they defy us.”

“They sent me to my room often enough, though,” Imrael interjected lest they forget their own monstrosity. And also because Khazri likely didn’t want to hear more of the old punishments listed. ‘Fed to spiders’ wasn’t even on the list of joking threats his parents had once made when he wouldn’t go to bed, but better to take no chances.

“We’re glad he’s not alone. We thought that woman of his would take responsibility but she never has,” his mother said and Imrael wanted to cringe because it was such a parent thing to say, so caring and so clueless, and so not a thing to joke about with Khazri later. There were downsides to a boyfriend who never asked questions and had a reptile’s understanding of parental interest.

“Pff, Keira can’t take responsibility for her own life,” he said carelessly. “She can’t even take responsibility for her bar tab.” ‘She’s just a friend’ wasn’t an argument worth having, Imrael had learnt.

“Or the last one,” his father put in.

“Eshe paid her tab, though I’ll concede she didn’t have her life together.”

“Or at all.” His mother sniffed. “Liches”

“She wasn’t dead when I met her,” he said hastily, lest Khazri get the wrong idea.

“We have clever children,” said his father, fond and weary. “But there’s not an ounce of sense between them.

Khazri swallowed. “Is Belain still. At Court?” He didn’t ask questions but he listened, and he’d been watching them all gossip as raptly as he’d ever watched a game trail. Imrael though he knew why but wasn’t about to embarrass him by pointing it out.

Imrael’s mother pursed her lips. “She likes it better. Everything we did to leave it and she rushes straight back. No sense at all, but then it’s easier for girls. Not a place to raise a son.” It was a conversation his parents had had often enough, to him and about him when they thought he and Belain long abed.

“Will you both be staying the night?” said his father, gathering up the plates.

“Yes, we will. Thanks, Papa.”

“Help me clear the table.” All the fuss to get away, all the insistence on being modern, but his father and Imrael were the ones who’d cooked and done the dishes for as long as he could remember. Sometimes his mother helped and but today she stayed at the head of the table and nodded to Khazri, who had risen, to do likewise.

“You’ll look after him?” she said stiffly, as Imrael ducked into the kitchen.

And, almost lost under the clatter of dishes; “Yes.”

”A lich?”

“Shh. I’m asleep.” Imrael’s bedroom was mostly storage now, and stank of drying herbs. Eyes gleamed lambent in the dark of it, and something huge and predatory panted. More worryingly, the bed wasn’t made for two, never mind two and an adult timberwolf, but they’d dealt with worse.

“I wasn’t- I don’t- My aunt’s dead. Only not.”

“That’s not at all comforting. Not even slightly. And it’s really unfair how you’ve cornered the market on weird family shit. I can’t even date a lich without you topping it.”

“I thought she wasn’t dead until after-”

“She wasn’t! Shush or I won’t invite you back.” Imrael rolled over - or attempted to. There wasn’t room and so he settled for wriggling pointedly.

There was a thoughtful pause. A flicker in the gleam of his eyes as Khazri blinked. “Your father’s a good cook,” he concluded.

In lots of ways it wasn’t a very satisfactory conclusion to come to, but in lots of ways it was.

#Anonymous #Raised By Wolves #Imrael Sovelin #Khazri Il'harren #Keira belongs to @pargile from way back when credit where it’s due.

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vldrarepairs · 7 years

Text

Admiring the Decor

Happy (late) birthday @atimelordswife! I hope you’ve had a wonderful day, and I hope the next year of your life is as amazing as you are! Thanks for being a fantastic friend and so encouraging and kind to me for as long as I’ve known you. You are such a blessing. :)

Not exactly based on, but a nod to your fic eiffel for you.

Thanks so much @flusteredkeith for reading over and helping with the ending!

Hunk was starting to run out of excuses. There were only so many ways to explain why he woke up outside of his room as many times as he had lately. Even worse, he kept waking up in the same room as Keith, which meant he couldn’t even use the same excuse each time.

“I just wanted a midnight snack, and I got lost on the way to the kitchen.”

That earned him a curious look.

“I needed a part for my lion.”

“In the training room?” Keith had asked as Hunk scurried out into the hall.

“I was on my way to brush up on my Altean. The simulator’s down that way.”

At least that one was a half decent excuse, and Keith simply nodded.

“I was just...admiring the decor?”

“In my room?” Keith had asked, frowning.

“Yeah, I just figured I’d check and see if anything was different, you know?” Hunk scanned the walls briefly before sending Keith a bright smile. “Looks the same. Night!”

“Night, Hunk,” Keith answered, sounding both baffled and resigned.

Hunk lost track of the number of times he woke up outside Keith’s room, narrowly avoiding yet another awkward lie to explain why he was there. Honestly, it was for the best, since Hunk had never been the best liar.

Fortunately, he was a skilled inventor, so he could find a way to solve his own problem.

His first solution was a lock on his door that would sound an alarm if he opened it without disarming it first. He tested it to be sure it wouldn’t sound outside of his room, and he hoped it would be loud enough to wake him up.

When he woke up in the training room, watching Keith take down the training bot, Hunk realized it, in fact, was not.

His second solution was putting a few things between his desk and his door. A borrowed chair or two and a small bookcase he found in storage should have been enough to wake him up before he could leave.

They were for a little while, but then a week later, he was in the kitchen, and Keith was staring at him over a bowl of food goo.

“Just a late night snack,” Hunk murmured as he walked over to grab a bowl of food goo and rush back to his room.

His third solution was to sleep in his lion and hope his lion would wake him up before he could sleepwalk out of the hangar. That worked for a couple days before he apparently learned how to fly his lion in his sleep.

Thankfully, Coran was the first to spot him, and Hunk woke up to Coran’s voice echoing around him.

“Is everything alright?”

Hunk jolted upright and looked around. “Uh, yeah! Everything’s fine! Just uh… bonding with my lion.”

“Well, I admire your dedication, but shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

Hunk stared down at the castle and sighed. Maybe it was time to admit he needed a little help. “Well, about that…”

“My brother had a problem with sleepwalking, actually,” Coran said as he dug through some supplies in the medical bay. “Happened a lot when he was stressed. Right before he got married, he tried to walk out of the airlock! Luckily, we had one of...these!” He tugged out a wide band that looked almost like a silver bracelet. “Try it on.”

“What is it?” Hunk took it from him and examined it.

“It’s a gravity control!” Coran grinned. “You turn it off before you go to sleep! Can’t walk if your feet are in the air.”

“Can’t I just turn it back on? I flew my lion in my sleep.” Hunk ran his thumb along the inside.

“You can only operate it when you’re awake. It monitors your vitals, so it won’t work if you’re asleep.”

“I can give it a try…” Hunk slipped it on his wrist and immediately felt small indentations raise around his pulse point. “Whoa…” The outside lit up with a few buttons, some of which he could read after learning some Altean with Pidge.

“That should help with the sleepwalking, but perhaps you should consider figuring out what’s causing it.”

“Sleepwalking? That explains a lot,” Keith’s voice sounded from behind Hunk.

Hunk jumped and turned to look at him. “Whoa, were you there the whole time?”

“No. I just came here to restock the training room.” Keith rummaged around in the cabinets for a box. A half-healed cut ran up the side of Keith’s arm, the Altean medicine already working on what had to be a fresh injury.

“We’ll need to stop and pick up some more soon.” Coran reached over to a monitor on the wall beside the door to type in a quick reminder to himself. “And maybe we can pick up some atious tea while we’re at it. It’s good for stress.”

“Stress? Who’s stressed?” Hunk frowned. “I’m not stressed.”

Keith raised a brow. “Can you help me carry this to the training room, then?”

Hunk shared a quick look with Coran, but he nodded. “Sure.”

They were both silent as they walked to the room, Hunk carrying a small box that Keith clearly could have carried himself. He knew Keith probably wanted to talk, and part of him just hoped Keith wouldn’t want to do so over a quick sparring match with the Gladiator.

“So, what’s wrong?” Keith finally asked while putting supplies in the storage wall.

“Honestly? What isn’t wrong?” Hunk sighed. “We’re still out in space, fighting this war, and I miss home and I’m tired.”

Keith nodded along, carefully rearranging supplies as he listened. “Yeah, it’s rough.”

“Plus, this whole sleepwalking thing just made everything worse. I don’t know why I kept-” He cut himself off and looked away. “I mean, I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“So, why me?” Keith glanced over at him, already guessing what Hunk hadn’t finished asking. “Why not Lance? Or Pidge?”

“I don’t know.” It was mostly true. Hunk had a pretty good guess, but he wasn’t about to admit that.

“Okay.” Keith closed the storage door and turned to Hunk. “How can I help?”

“I’ll just…try this for now.” Hunk motioned to the bracelet still on his wrist. “Thanks, though.”

Like every other solution, it worked for a while. Plus, sleeping while floating over his bed was pretty incredible. He was actually feeling rested in the mornings, and he stopped showing up outside Keith’s room.

Until the night when he woke up in Keith’s bed right next to him.

Hunk stared, a stream of curses running through his mind as he tried to slowly slip out from under the sheets.

“Going somewhere?” Keith asked, looking up at him.

“This, uh...isn’t what it looks like.”

“It looks like you forgot your gravity control bracelet.” Keith pointed to Hunk’s bare wrist.

Hunk groaned. “It must have slipped off.”

“You said my name.”

Hunk froze, caught between panic and horror. “I did?”

“Yeah, in your sleep.” Keith sat up. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“Uhh…” Hunk raced to think of a lie that would make sense, but the truth slipped out instead. “I’ve been dreaming about you. I think that’s why I keep… you know…” He grimaced. “Sorry.”

“Why me?” Keith asked. Of course it had to be the same question Hunk had tried so hard to avoid earlier.

“Well, I mean, we kind of bonded over that whole scaultrite thing? And you being funny and stuff?” Hunk shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to spend more time with you. Don’t tell Lance, though.”

Keith chuckled. “I won’t. But, you know, if you want that, all you have to do is ask.”

“Really?” Hunk brightened. “Okay! Yeah, we should hang out!” He paused, some of his enthusiasm waning when he remembered where he was. “Probably in the morning, though. I’ll just…” He slipped out of bed and looked back at Keith. “Sorry about this.”

“You sure you won’t just wind up back here?”

Hunk could feel the blush rising in his cheeks, and he could only hope the room was dark enough that Keith couldn’t see it. “I mean, we talked it out right? I should be fine now.”

Keith patted the bed beside him. “You’re already here. Just stay the night.”

“Wait… what?” For a moment, Hunk wondered if he was asleep again and imagining things. This was exactly the sort of thing dream Keith had been saying to him for the past few weeks.

“You won’t have to sleepwalk if you’re already here. Problem solved.” Keith shrugged and flopped back onto his pillow. “Besides, we both need the sleep.”

“Oh...okay.” Hunk sat beside him, uncertain for a moment, but when Keith didn’t change his mind or say he was joking, Hunk relaxed and slipped under the sheets beside Keith. He closed his eyes, drifting off to the sound of Keith’s breathing beside him. Even if he hadn’t exactly told Keith the whole truth, he felt lighter now. Confessing his crush could wait for another day.

#Voltron legendary defender #vld #heith #hunk #keith #my writing #sleepwalking #this was a lot of fun to write #and of course I had to use the famous decor line

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