#that night chp. 2

[antisociallilbrat]

Eddie, Drunk, Probably: “How am I supposed to hold so many hands? I have six partners and only two hands!! I need more hands!” :((

#Eddie just starts drunkenly bawling one night about this #the losers have to take turns holding his hands #it’s the only way to console him #eddie kaspbrack #bev marsh #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #richie tozier #bill denbrough #stan uris #stanley uris #Reddie #kaspbrough #poly losers #poly losers headcanons #it 2017 #it chp 2

[cdbabymp3]

𐙚chris' girl chp. 2 ― matt sturniolo

summary: y/n confides in matt on the drive home

notes/warnings: chris x influencer!reader x matt, some suggestive mentions (talk of sex & virginity) , y/n and chris have a toxic relationship, dialogue heavy/filler and i HATE it lol+ this song is so matt it hurts

thank you all for waiting, ily asf !! :*

(edited, but definitely not my best i fear)

matt's blood went cold. his muscles tensed so much from sheer embarrassment that he felt sore sitting up in bed.

shit. shit. shit. shit.

tucking his boner into the waistband of his boxers, he hopped out of bed and threw some pajama pants and a random shirt on. about to knock again, matt opened the door to reveal y/n, a light sheen of sweat across her chest and forehead. most of her makeup had faded or been smeared off and her hair wasn't as smooth as it was at the beginning of the night. small flakes of mascara stuck to the skin under eyes and flushed cheeks. had she been crying? or was it from fucking? or both? he couldn't tell.

she flashed a weak smile, holding both her high heels in her hand, "sorry, i didn't mean to wake you."

"no, you're good. i was barely asleep," matt lied assuringly, scanning her face for a clear expression.

she fidgeted with the straps of her shoes, struggling with what to say.

"do you want me to take you home?" matt provided quietly, unsure whether or not chris was awake or if he'd even care.

y/n's eyes lit up at matt's offer, nodding. "yes please. if that's okay?"

this never happened. y/n always spent the night with chris. and now matt was about to be in the car with her. just her. he didn't allow himself too much excitement, though. not until he knew what was going on with her.

"of course," matt whispered, leaving the doorway for a moment to grab his car keys and a jacket.

"oh, wait. one sec," y/n set down her shoes in the hallway, carefully opening chris' door. chris laid on his side, fast asleep. y/n pulled a hoodie from his dresser and put it on over her dress, the thick fabric draping over her thighs completely. tip toeing to the bed, she leaned over chris, whispering, "matt's gonna take me home, okay?" lowering her face to his, she pressed a feather-light kiss to his cheek, "love you."

matt felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. it almost made him sad, y/n talking to chris as if he could hear anything she's saying. surely, she knows he can't hear her and that's what makes it even more sad.

matt zipped up his jacket, the noise causing y/n to end her moment with chris and leave his room. she shut his door with a little creak, but chris remained in a deep state of sleep. matt gestured to outside the hallway to leave, y/n leading the way through the living room and back down the stairs.

she stayed uncharacteristically quiet as matt drove. he wasn't sure what to do or say - or if she even wanted him to. he could sense some kind of apprehension from her, like she wanted to tell him something but couldn't find a way to articulate it. suddenly, in the weighted silence, y/n's stomach growled loudly. she gasped, giggling a bit at the abrupt noise. finally, her smile.

matt joined her laughter, turning into the second to last intersection before her house, "you wanna get something to eat real quick?"

y/n looked at him again with bright eyes, like a little kid. "can we? i didn't eat at the party."

matt tapped the gps on his console screen, ending the route, "yeah, me neither. i'm starving."

"what's gonna be open this late, though?"

matt cracked a knowing smile, putting his blinker on and turning into a shopping plaza. at nearly 1 am, only two of three cars took up the otherwise empty parking lot. however, at the end of the plaza, a long line of cars wrapped around the in n out drive-thru.

"oh, thank god." y/n exhaled deeply in relief, making praying hands, "i'm gonna pass out."

matt chuckles, maneuvering the car to the back of the line, "please don't do that. not on my watch, chris will kill me."

y/n's smile fades, her body language turning demure.

shit. way to go, idiot.

"not so sure about that." her voice is small as stares at the car in front of them

hesitantly matt asks, "okay, i know it's none of my business and you totally don't have to answer, but...is everything okay? like with you and him?", he inches the car further in line.

she's conflicted, it's all over her face. she runs a hand through her scalp and leaves it there, propping her elbow up against the car door to lean on.

she shakes her head, "you're gonna think i'm crazy." the car ahead's red tail lights cast across her face, making her eyes glisten.

matt lets the wheels roll an inch or two, then stops to catch her gaze. her big eyes meet his and, without fail, his heart flutters.

"no, seriously, i won't judge. i promise." and he means it.

she knows he means it too, which is why she continues.

"okay, um-you know kenzie coy?"

"uh, the blonde girl that does the fitness tiktoks?" matt confirms, even though he knew exactly who she was, unfortunately.

kenzie coy; widely known for her viral workout videos and lingerie pictures on instagram, caught the attention of most young guys in l.a. and if they weren't in l.a. to see her in person, they were probably jerking off to her pictures in the lonely confinement of their bedrooms.

"yeah, her." y/n says, slouching more into the seat, "i think chris and her are hooking up. they were talking at the party and she kept putting her hand on his shoulder like they'd known each other for years. plus, he laughed at every little thing she was saying, even the shit that wasn't funny. it was so weird, matt. i don't know, something just feels off and i can't let it go."

god, what are you doing, chris?

"no, there's no way." matt refutes with certainty, "he's with you. he likes you, y/n. always has, simple as that."

"me," huffing, "and kenzie." she adds, attempting to prove a point, but matt's unsure.

he quirks an eyebrow in disbelief, having to do a double-take before driving forward a bit more. "what? like at the same time?"

she shrugs, "it's possible is all i'm saying," now turning to face matt, "to like two people... simultaneously."

matt's face goes warm, grateful that the red car lights mask the vivid blush probably forming. he can feel her eyes on him as he rolls down his window to order their food. though he admittedly knows y/n's order by heart, his speech is jumbled. a stutter persistent throughout the entire order, but the employee doesn't seem to have trouble taking it and telling them to pull forward. matt fumbles around his jacket pocket for his wallet with shaky hands, retrieving his credit card from the sleeve and almost dropping it.

does she know what she's doing? how her words sound?

"i-i mean, yeah. technically that's possible, but-" matt's interrupted by another employee as he pulls up to the window to pay. quick, but politely, matt thanks the employee and grabs the bag of food. "do you wanna eat on the way home or-"

"actually, can you park for a sec?" y/n asks, taking the bag of food from his lap and placing it on hers.

her question nearly makes matt run over the drive-thru curb, maneuvering the car into the nearest parking spot. "yeah, are you good?"

"yeah, no, i'm fine. this night's just been a lot. i kinda wanna chill out for a bit." she explains, hand diving into the white bag for her burger and fries. she sets her food on her lap, then goes back to the bag for matt's, handing it to him with a smile.

"thanks." he can barely choke out, the atmosphere suddenly feeling incredibly intimate as he turns the car's ignition off. now it was really just him and her, no background noise, no distractions, no chris.

"what were you saying earlier, before you ordered?" y/n tosses a fry into her mouth

"oh nothing. i was just saying that it's possible, but you guys made up, right? so i wouldn't worry about it."

y/n let out a breathy laugh, in between chewing, " 'made up' isn't what i would call it."

he's not sure what's gotten into him, but matt takes advantage of this surge of confidence. "okay, then what would you call it?" matt furthered. there was no going back now.

a little surprised by his boldness, y/n raises her eyebrows, putting her fries down on her lap and shifting to face him again. "i'd say we put a bandaid on it. something temporary, like we always do," she looks down shyly at the space between them, "but sex doesn't fix everything, y'know?"

flustered, matt chokes on a fry, patting his chest for air.

y/n rapidly back-pedals at his reaction, "oh my god, sorry. he's your brother, you don't wanna hear about that."

matt takes a sip of water from the center console, and regains his breath. "no, no, it's okay." clearing his throat, "i'd imagine it doesn't."

she frowns at this, a little smirk forming in the corner of her lips. "'imagine'?"

oh god. just shut up, matt.

"i mean, like-it's-y'know?" he tries, but can't save himself whatsoever, "fuck." embarrassed, he gives up with a defeated laugh, taking a giant bite of his burger to silence himself.

y/n giggles, licking some salt off her finger, "you've never...?"

she wants me dead.

chewing down the bite, matt swallows with a loud 'gulp', making her giggle more. "uh, no, i haven't...it's really embarrassing."

y/n shakes her head, "no, it's not," carefully she asks, "is there a reason why?"

her tone is sweet and genuine. he could tell, for some reason, she really cared about what he'd say next.

"honestly, yeah." matt avoided her gaze, "i have a hard time, like...getting to that point i guess?"

he wasn't sure why he was spilling his guts to her like this. he's never told anyone this and he swore he never would.

but it's y/n. everyone told y/n their secrets. she was just that kind of person.

she tilts her head teasingly, humming in denial, "mhm"

matt's heart skips a beat, his brain going blank. "what?"

"i think you know what you want, matt," her voice is like velvet saying his name, "and you know how to get it. the only thing holding you back is yourself." she speaks so matter-of-factly, so innocent, it drives him fucking insane.

the tension in the car was so thick, it clouded his usual rationality. for a split second, he was convinced she was trying to tell him something. an innuendo of sorts.

but that thought is soon dismissed when she continues, "regardless, you're smart for waiting. your first time is better when it's with someone you genuinely care about." she didn't have to say it. matt knew who she was talking about. but just to twist the knife, she adds, "but it does make you get attached... i think that's my problem right now with chris."

and just like that, the moment was over.

only able to nod in agreement, matt turns the car back on, discarding his burger wrapper into the white bag along with some used napkins."it's getting late. i should probably take you home."

y/n sits back up in her seat, gathering her trash and tossing it as well. "yeah, good idea." she says, blinking a couple times back into reality. for those 30 minutes they spent together, time seemed to pause.

the drive to y/n's house is silent, but not like before when they were leaving the party. the silence is comfortable. y/n admires the city lights that flash and flicker by, illuminating the area surrounding her. she looked at everything with such awe, appreciating little details in arbitrary things. it's something that matt loved most about her, something that chris would bring up to their mom when describing her. such a double-edged sword, the whole thing was. and yet, matt kept coming back for more.

he pulled up to her driveway, parking the car and turning to her. she smiles at him sincerely. "thank you," she grabs her high heels from the floor and opens the door, "for the food, for everything, really."

matt internally melts,"no problem, any time."

"goodnight, get home safe." she whispers, closing the door and walking to her front door

fuck it, matt. just say it.

he rolls down his window and raises his voice so she can hear him from the car, "oh, hey, for the record,"

"yeah?" she steps forwards a little, amused.

"fuck kenzie coy."

y/n erupts with laughter, putting a hand over her mouth as to not wake her neighbors.

"you're miles prettier than she'll ever be, i mean it."

she shakes her head bashfully. for the first time ever, he was seeing her get flustered by a compliment. "you're sweet." she reaches for her front door, "goodnight, matt."

"goodnight, y/n." matt rolls up his window, reversing back onto the street and driving away. once he was fully off her block, he silently cheered, gripping the steering wheel and rocking in celebration. if nick or chris were there, they would never let him hear of the end of how corny he was being. but he didn't care. they weren't there. truthfully, if the night had gone differently, he would've got out with her and talked more. but he was exhausted and so was she. the moment didn't call for it yet. he had time, he just had to bide it.

໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @forevergirlposts , @soimightlikeoldmen69 , @sl0t4matt , @st7rnioioss , @sturn3ol0 , @vickyzloserz , @@mayhem-72 , @imsosillygoofylol , @scofposts , @st7rnioioss , @iloveneilperry , @sukiipjs , @junnniiieee07 , @remussbitch , @tatumrileyslover , @imfromthediningtable , @mattsgirlsblog , @obsessededwithyou , @mctties , @divanaspiteri , @lustfulslxt , @flowerxbunnie , @m4ttslvr , @streamermattsgf , @asturniolos , @tubl-mc , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniol0s , @pleasantlycrazyworld , @sillysillygyal , @evanpeterslvr , @chrizznmetswife , @seahorsie11 , @braindead4l , @iloveapplejacks , @enyaslover , @thvvluvr , @stur-ni-o-lo , @domaniquessidehoe

lmk if u wanna be added, hotties !! if i hit the tag limit, i'll tag in the comments :))

#Spotify #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader #cdbabymp3

[somekndofnature]

Continuing to upload my older Doctor Who stories. If you want a tag when I upload a new chapter, drop me a line.

This story follows Rose Tyler and her unexpected return to the TARDIS during the year that never was. It has been a long separation for Earth's defender and she is not the same girl she once was. She is having a difficult time coming to terms with some major changes to her physiology, as well as battling her personal demons, while hiding from the Master. Against all odds, Rose needs to find her Doctor and reverse this hellish year before it is too late.

Prologue | Chp 1

Chapter 2: Underneath This Faded Moon

AO3

Steeling her nerves, Rose peaked out of the storage room and glimpsed of a team of soldiers marching through the corridor beyond. At least her outfit made sense now. She needed to blend in; which should be easy considering she was a soldier…in another life. Her life in Pete’s world was complicated. She headed her own team at Torchwood for seven years and, in that time, she butted heads with the status quo of the organization. They were very distrusting of alien life and, more often than not, responded aggressively. Pete gave her the freedom to start changing the culture but she wasn’t always successful. She was ashamed of those times when her best efforts failed, and she was caught in a firefight, defending her fellow humans with reluctant determination. It wasn’t always right, but she had to protect her team first. It was a lesson she learned well through heartbreak.

Rushing back through the TARDIS doors, Rose rested against them, taking a few nervous breaths. Her fingers paused as she reached out for the weapon leaning beside her. It looked wrong contrasted against the TARDIS’ living coral walls.  It was almost garish and obscene; at complete odds with the peace Rose found within. It wasn’t like she never handled a weapon. She handled plenty, but she was eager to leave that part of her life behind in Pete’s World. For twelve years, Rose spent her life fighting for one thing or another. She was looking forward to some peace, or as peaceful as life with the Doctor could ever be. Still, Rose assumed she wouldn’t need to pick up another weapon like this ever again; an instrument of death, designed for quick and efficient eradication of enemies. The Doctor wouldn’t approve but she decided that, given the TARDIS’ insistence, he would just have to deal with it. Whatever was going on outside those blue doors was nothing to trifle with. It was time to put up or shut up. Sometimes, when the stakes were this high, you weren’t afforded the luxury of nuance...a fact that she knew well. Steeling herself against the disapproval that she could already feel from her Doctor, wherever he was, Rose grabbed the weapon and stepped out of the doors, prepared to save him.

The hallway was quiet as Rose peaked out of the TARDIS’ storage cupboard. She waited a few moments and almost stepped out before she heard the distinct sound of marching boots. She pulled the door closed again, until only a sliver of the corridor beyond was visible. She saw a squadron of soldiers march by and, after a moment of hesitation, Rose hurried out the door, joining the end of their formation as they passed. She cast discrete, curious eyes on her surroundings as they marched through the maze of metal hallways. When they passed the first window, Rose barely refrained from gawping at the view of a planet far below. They were in some kind of airship and possibly, on another planet. At least, she hoped that the burnt out and destroyed rubble below wasn’t Earth. If it was, then things were worse off than she ever imagined possible.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night, after finding the time to disappear from the evening meal, Rose snuck back to the TARDIS with a belly full of bland cafeteria food. Exhausted, she stepped through the blue doors, leaving her weapon leaning against the outside. She trudged past the encased column and toward her room.  She collapsed on the bed, rubbing at her eyes and trying to stave off the headache she felt growing behind them. It was a difficult and confusing day. Blending into unknown situation was harder than the Doctor made it look. Rose was out of practice.

After being divided into teams this morning, she was assigned to guard a family of ‘dangerous criminals’, or so she was told. Rose didn’t understand it; there didn’t seem anything dangerous about the Jones family. They were just a pair of worn out parents, doing their best to protect their daughter.  While the daughter was trying to do the same for her parents. They were scared, but with the blunt edge of expectation, as if they had been in their predicament for a while now. It made Rose uneasy, seeing these normal people imprisoned. Not just imprisoned, but forced into slave labor by their jailor.

They were all dressed in almost cartoonish servant uniforms that seemed purchased from a costume store. The women’s were so short that Rose could imagine something like ‘Slutty French Maid’ had adorned the packaging when they were first purchased. It made her stomach knot with discomfort as her fellow soldiers split up with a family member and roughly shoved him or her on their way. One took the father, the other the mother and Rose was left to guard the daughter, Tish.

It was awkward, to say the least. It made Rose ashamed to be playing the role of villain in this situation. So, for most of the morning she followed Tish around as she went about her chores and tried to stay out of the way. More than once, the young girl cast curious and cautious eyes over her, as if waiting for Rose to accost her at any moment. But Rose kept her head down and stayed quiet until she found herself standing in front of some large doors. Tish hesitated in front of her, balancing a silver tray, set for tea, in her hands. Thinking that her arms were too full to open the doors, Rose stepped forward to oblige but Tish stopped her.

“Wait!”

Rose startled at her panicked tone and took a quick step back. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you needed some help.”

Tish swallowed hard. “No, it’s alright. I just need a minute to prepare before I go in there.”

Rose’s brow furrowed and she studied the young woman closer. She wasn’t just scared now. Whatever was in this room had her, screaming on the inside, terrified. “Are you alright?”

She breathed deep before turning curious and suspicious eyes on her. “Why do you care?”

The question didn’t have any venom behind it, just bland curiosity. Rose wet her lips, feeling nervous and naked under her probing stare. “Because I’m human?”

Tish snorted. “I was sure that Saxon bashed all the humanity out of his soldiers. What’s different about you? Are you new?”

Rose nodded, confused by her words. Who was Saxon and what was going on here?

Her dark eyes lit with hope. “Are you part of the resistance my sister is supposed to be building? Is that why you’re here? Is the plan going to be set in motion?”

“Hold on, hold on,” Rose interrupted, overwhelmed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tish froze with a terrified look on her face. Rose understood her fear. She just spilled the existence of 'a plan’ to, what appeared to be, an enemy soldier.

“Calm down,” Rose whispered. “I’m not with your sister but I am an ally. I’m looking for a friend of mine, the Doctor.”

Tish stared, seeming to gauge her sincerity. “You’re a friend of the Doctor?”

She felt excitement bubble up inside of her. “Yes, I’m Rose. Do you know him? Where is he? Is he alright? Is he in trouble? What am I saying, of course he’s in trouble, but how do I find him?”

Tish cast a nervous glance around the empty halls. “You’re a friend of his? Martha never mentioned you. She’s been travelling with the Doctor. Why doesn’t she know you?”

Rose waved away her question. “We haven’t met. It was after my time. But the Doctor knows me, I promise. Where is he?”

She hesitated.

“Please, I need to see him,” she begged, allowing desperation to seep into her tone. As much as Rose tried to hold herself together, she was keyed up. Memories, nightmares, and hopelessness hounded her. She knew that her overwrought mind might snap at any second if she was pushed too far. The desire to see her Doctor was like a living thing within her, urging her in some unknown direction, searching for him.

“He’ll probably be in there,” she replied, nodding toward the doors.

“Great! Let’s go,” Rose said, eager to see her Time Lord.

“Wait,” Tish insisted. “How long have you been here?”

“Not long. This is my third day,” Rose replied with a furrowed brow. “Now, come on.”

“Wait, you don’t understand,” she stressed. “You can’t just go barging in there, saving the day. You’re going to get yourself killed. That thing in there is a monster. He’s smart and cunning and evil. He will destroy you if given the chance.”

Rose’s enthusiasm dimmed. “What’s going on around here?” she asked. “Who is this Saxon? Why are we on this ship? What is happening on Earth?  If that planet down there even is Earth.”

“It is,” Tish responded, confused. “That’s Earth or what’s left of it anyway. How can you not know what happened? It’s been this way for months all over the world. How have you missed it?”

“Ah,” Rose replied. “I should clarify that when I say I’m new here…I mean to this universe.”

“What?”

“Well, I’m not really new. I was born in this universe but I was separated from the Doctor and trapped in a parallel universe with my family. But now I’m back, so...”

By the end of her explanation Tish was examining her with baffled amusement. “You must be a friend of the Doctor’s. You sound just as mad as he does.”

“Thank you,” Rose said, grinning before getting back to the business at hand. “So what’s happening?”

Tish jumped when they heard chatter coming from down the hall and she cast her wary eyes in its direction. “I will tell you, but after. He’s going to be cross if I’m not in there soon.”

Rose was reluctant to let it go but she could see by the fear in Tish’s eyes, that she shouldn’t push. So, she reached for the handle.

As she opened the door, Tish whispered from the corner of her mouth, ”Keep your head down. If he asks you a question, give him direct concise answers, without hesitation. Stay as close to the truth as possible and do not, under any circumstances, underestimate him. He may not look like much but he is evil incarnate.”

A shiver raced down Rose’s spine and she tried to repress her shudder. Even after everything Rose had seen and experienced, Tish’s terror was catching.

As they stepped into a grand room, Rose scanned over her surroundings. Her eyes touched on everything as her training kicked in. It was just a reflex now in unfamiliar circumstances. At the back of the long room, stairs led to a raised platform where a cornucopia of electronic equipment flashed with intermittent beeps. At the bottom of stairs sat two differing and antonymous objects. To the right was the standard issue, evil villain globe. She rolled her eyes and turned to the left where a small haphazard tent balanced beside of a colorful bowl with word ‘DOG’ emblazoned on its face in large block letters.

Rose’s brow furrowed. “He keeps a dog up here?”

Tish paused as she moved around the large table in the middle of the room. “No.”

The single ominous syllable echoed through the space, setting Rose’s hair on end. She shrugged off her unease and went back to studying her surroundings. This had to be the bridge of the ship she decided as she looked out of the round porthole. It was difficult to tell but they seemed to be at the zenith of it, based on the curve of the hull beneath her. The myriad of electronic devices also looked familiar; she could identify steering column, navigation screens, and engine temperatures. Whatever was going on, this room was the center of the action. As she watched, a cluster of metal spheres sped past the window and Rose startled.

“Bloody hell,” she exclaimed, stumbling back.

“Shhh, “ Tish admonished. “Careful not to excite them.”

“What the hell are they,” Rose hissed.

“I don’t know. They just showed up here all of a sudden.”

“They’re not robots?”

“They could be,” Tish conceded, shrugging as she began to unload the dishes from her tray and set a place at the head of the large black table. “It seems obvious that they would be, but they’re too emotional. They take too much pleasure in their work to be completely without sentience.”

“Where did they come from,” Rose asked, fascinated as she watched another group of spheres fly by.

“Only Mr. Saxon knows. They’re working with him, I guess,” she whispered and then sniffled. “They killed the American president.”

Rose whipped around. “They what?!”

Tish nodded, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “It was horrible. They just disintegrated him into nothing, right on international television, in front of the whole world.”

Rose’s open mouth worked but no sounds emerged. How? How had this happened? Why didn’t the Doctor stop it? Where was he? Urgency and unease rushed through her. “Tish,” she said, steeling her voice with determination. “Where is the Doctor?”

The young girl looked around the room with sad dark eyes. “I really expected him to be here. He must be with Saxon.”

Rose’s blood ran cold. “Who the hell is Saxon?”

Tish opened her mouth to explain when they heard the sound of whistling outside the door and a rattle of the silver handles. She rushed to the left corner of the room, grabbing Rose’s sleeve along the way. Rose followed and stood, still as a statue, next to a terrified and trembling Tish. She saw the knob of the door jiggle and open. She sucked in a breath, preparing herself for anything, a monster, alien, robots….

What she wasn’t expecting was a spry man, looking in his late thirties, to roll in a withered old geriatric in a wheelchair. It startled her. Whatever she was expecting, it wasn’t this. This bloke looked older than Methuselah, but she knew from experience that age did not indicate a lesser threat. Still, she doubted that was the terrifying Mr. Saxon Tish spoke of. His defeated posture projected passive weary acceptance much like the Jones family. He seemed just as much a prisoner here as they were.

Her eye moved to the man pushing the chair. He was of average height with bleach blonde hair, pale skin, and wild eyes. His mouth twisted with a cruel smirk as he sauntered through the door and looked to the head of the table. This was a familiar routine for him. He did it a hundred times, if his ease in the room was anything to go by. He was in command of this room…Mr. Saxon. Rose would bet her life on it. He rolled the wheelchair up to the side of the table and sat himself at the head, confirming her suspicions.

“Ah, isn’t this wonderful,“ he sighed as he placed his napkin on his lap and began opening the silver dishes in front of him.

The smell of rich food permeated the large room and Saxon took a deep lungful of the tantalizing aroma. “Oh, that smells lovely doesn’t it, old friend,” he asked, eyeing the morose looking ancient.

Old friend? Well, he was old, Rose would give him that, but she doubted that this blonde devil had any real friends. Judging by the irritated sigh that drifted from the old man, he agreed. Saxon took a spoon and dipped it into the large bowl before him. His movements were purposeful, exaggerated. He was putting on a show for his ‘old friend’. Why? Her eyes flitted over the long white hair of old man’s bowed head, the wrinkled skin, and the two slender gnarled hands, clasped in his lap atop the blanket covering his legs. Something about him tickled at her mind. Rose was sure she had never seen this man before and yet, something tugged at her, a kernel of recognition. The set of his shoulders seemed familiar. She brushed it off and turned her attention from him back to the only real threat in the room.

“Would you like something to eat,” Saxon offered the old man

He hissed out a terse breath. “Yes.”

Tish jumped into action, pulling additional silverware and dishes from a nearby silver cart.

“WHAT do you think you are doing?” Saxon shouted.

Rose and Tish jumped in unison as his harsh tone cut through the quiet room.

“I-I was just g-getting an extra place setting ready,” Tish stuttered through her obvious terror.

Rose’s eyes narrowed on this Saxon character and she took a small step forward, ready to defend poor Tish if the need arose.

“Did I ask you to get another place setting?” Saxon asked in a low, dangerous, tone.

“Well, I-I just assumed that…”

“DID. I. ASK.”

“No,” Tish affirmed in a timid whisper.

Saxon’s eye narrowed. “Come here.”

Rose tensed and she almost moved forward to protect Tish but drew back at the young woman’s look of warning. She walked to Saxon’s side. Quicker than Rose was able to track, Saxon reached out and slapped Tish across the face.

“Leave her alone, Master,” the old man said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t recall asking your opinion, you self righteous old fool. Now shut up.” Saxon stood, looking back to Tish who cowered from him. “So eager to take care of him? Is he so important to you? Is he your savior?”

Tish was a trembling ball of nerves and she remained silent.

“Answer me!”

“No,” she stuttered. “I mean, yes...or...err.”

Saxon backhanded her hard. She cried out as she stumbled backwards.

“Master,” the old man shouted. “Stop!”

“What is so special about him? Why does he engender such loyalty from you pathetic dogs? Just because he won’t slap your nose when you piss on the rug doesn’t mean he sees you as anything other than his pets, “ Saxon continued, uncaring as he backhanded the poor girl once more, tossing her to the floor.

“Koschei!”

“No! I want you to tell her,” he seethed as he grabbed Tish’s arm from the floor and dragged her in front of the old man. “You think he’s your savior but you mean nothing to him. You are a temporary distraction and when he’s done with you; he’ll swan off and leave you to your pathetic, disgusting existence. You’re not important. You are nothing.”

“Master,” the old man pleaded.

“TELL HER!” Their shouting echoed through the sudden silence as Rose rushed to Tish’s side. “Get her out of here,” Saxon barked at Rose, tossing the poor girl into her arms.

She glared back at him as she helped Tish to her feet. Rose wanted to engage him. She wanted to kick this skinny little prick’s arse but she restrained the impulse. Rose needed to maintain her cover. She needed to blend in until she could find the Doctor. She needed to get Tish away from this psychopath.

When the old man finally urged, “Go!” Rose rushed Tish from the room.

Outside, she examined the large gash on Tish’s swollen and bruising cheek. “Are you alright?” she asked as she probed the cut with tender strokes of her fingers

“I’m fine,” she stuttered past tears. “I just, I just wish everything was back to normal. I’m tired of waiting.” Sobs wracked her small frame.

Rose’s heart ached with sympathy as she shouldered her weapon and draped protective arms around the girl. “It’s going to be alright. We’ll fix this, I promise. But for now, we need to get you some medical attention. That’s a pretty nasty cut on your cheek.”

“There’s an infirmary one level down,” she said sniffling.

She escorted her down to the infirmary where Tish was whisked from her arms and Rose was dismissed. She expressed her desire to stay but was told, in no uncertain terms, that she was not needed. She was directed toward the mess hall where she consumed a, less than satisfactory, evening meal while trying to disappear into the crowd of soldiers. Unable to stand any additional excitement, Rose rushed back to the safety of the TARDIS.

#doctor who #the doctor #rose tyler #the tenth doctor #tenrose #tenxrose #sfw #the year that never was #the other side of the night #chp 2

[undercoverpena]

2. lemon twist

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter two of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.4k chapter warnings: [see masterlist for series warnings] meet cute, flirting. fluff. flirting in person and over IG. frankie being a single!dad to a son. frankie gives reader/you a nickname (paint related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: thank you so much for all the love on chapter one, and the bonus graphic. I'm so happy to bring you chapter two! also, WE'RE POSTING WEEKLY BABIESSS

prev chapter | frankie's ig

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

A soft, melodic tune pulls you into the land of the living, aware of the tug of it, and the immediate reluctance you have to leave the comfort of your dreams.

Your hand hesitates, reluctant to emerge from under the snug warmth of your sheets before your fingers are tapping and searching, all sluggish with sleep, groping blindly as it crawls against the wooden top of your bedside table. It's only when your fingertips connect with the screen does the world fall into silence.

Nothingness. Stillness. Peace.

The perfect environment for your mind to come to itself as you slowly open your lashes, raising a balled-up fist to rub slumber away, as your gaze meets streams of light rolling in through the breeze-blown curtains.

Then it hits you.

Comes to you in a trickle. Then a flood.

One after the other, memories of last night rush over you. Messages sent and received coming to you, recalling the way you'd tucked a pillow under your chest as your thumbs replied quickly to each incoming DM. Then, you recall the giddiness, how it fluttered through you—how it still remains. Still ever-present and very much thrumming inside of you as you begin to smile.

It remains on your face as you roll out of bed. A brief memory of something he said making you laugh as you wash your face, and another when you brush your teeth.

That feeling stays with you as the sun glistens through your kitchen window. One which adds a glow to the place, making the little smoke stains on the walls and the chips on the kitchen counter seem better, less noticeable—and less irritating.

You smirk as you wrap your hand around your mug—because is it too soon to wish him a good morning? Should you wait for him?

Sighing, rolling your eyes, you land on the dresser you were sprucing up in the place a dining table should be. Your eyes linger on it—teeth picking at the skin on your lip—just as it does so each time you come in this room.

A reminder once again that this place should be a home you’ve been building for years, and not just the last few months. There should be photos on the walls of a relationship playing out alongside family and friends, but those ones placed in between are still just empty.

Like so much of your home.

Taking a sip of your coffee, you drop your stare to the newspaper under the feet of the dresser. The stories were told in black and white splotches over in many shades, dotted around as you tested and checked to see what would make the old, worn thing look like something new. The same thing you’d somehow managed to get delivered through a smile and a sweet, please.

You had been, for so long, undecided on the shade.

Yet, as you gaze upon it now, your imagination begins to weave a vivid portrait. It conjures the image of what it might resemble should you succumb to the shade that's gradually painting itself in imaginary strokes.

Sliding your phone from your pocket, you open up your DMs.

Does butterscotch orange come in a paint type suitable for wood? It does. You at work today? Desperate to see me? Just looking to help someone shift paint they can’t sell. What you looking to paint, Rainy?

Taking another sip of your drink, the warmth kisses your palm similar to the temperature blooming in your cheeks from conversing with him again.

Choosing, instead of words, to snap a photo, knowing it'll be easier, simpler.

Watching it send, the little speech bubble appearing as your mind drifts to the hair above his lip, the facial hair along his jaw—the little patch you’d wanted to graze your thumb over.

You think of the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles; when he’d looked pleased to see you in the paint aisle—something akin to a modern-day meet cute you see on the TV.

You coming in today? If I can… gives me something to do this afternoon.

You bite your lip, considering it—whether it’s too forward to make a flirtatious comment. The two of you skirted around it last night, practically river dancing—not quite stepping over, but not quite retreating either.

I’ll get you it ready at the main desk. My hero, Frank.DIY Don’t push it.

It’s the third visit you’ve made, and while you gloss over the paint chippings on the door, you do notice the circular stains on the floor.

They’re brown, smudged slightly at the edges as though someone has, at one time, attempted to clean (whatever it was) quickly after it had appeared. It’s clear they had failed.

Your eyes scan over it, for a moment forgetting anything and everything.

Just existing in today's scent, which happens to be singed wood—chippings of it practically in the air—as the sound of an electrical saw starts up and begins screeching in some distant corner until you hear your name being called.

And it silences everything.

That voice could pull you from anything, you think.

A crisis, your thoughts, a spiral.

You’d heard his voice plenty all last night as you watched videos of him hanging shelves, answering questions likely sent to him on how best to prime a wooden handrail, and still, you weren't sure you were sick of his voice.

That, and DIY had honestly never sounded so hot.

After the shortest walk to the counter, a brief hello, a grin you wish you could try and smother a touch, you’re leaning on the counter. His eyes focused on you, watching every move you make as though looking anywhere else would be a crime.

“You got a Sharpie there?”

Frowning, you feel you can breathe easier when his eyes drop to the counter—rustling around the till area as you rest your elbow.

“Because I forgot mine and I think I should ask for a signature this time.”

Pausing, he slowly lifts his chin, then eyes. “Funny.”

Shrugging, you grin, watching him ring up the tin—occasionally smirking to himself, before shaking his head as you pay, your phone vibrating on the counter that you continue to ignore.

“You gonna be alright with that?”

Scrunching your nose, you pocket your phone and tilt the can on the counter. “Painting a dresser or carrying this to my car?”

Something sparkles in his eyes, a little shimmer. His mouth opening, likely ready to spill nothing but charm and flirtation again, when another voice cuts through—one gruffer, more tinged in age.

“Francisco, what you d—oh, I see.”

Your smile remains, even as you stare up at the older man—the one with wiry whites and spotted greys you’d seen sitting behind the counter on the day you left to get coffee with Francisco.

It’s notable, how smaller, and thinner the older man is—how he moves like he’s pained by each step until he slumps into a chair and puts on the brightest and biggest of smiles before offering his hand.

“The name’s Harry.”

You look at it, only briefly, flicking your eyes to Frankie who looks like he’s wishing the earth would open up at his feet and swallow him whole. A somewhat twisted, forced blank expression and the mildest of eye rolls follow when your hand slips inside Harry’s, offering your name.

“Thought it was Harold,” Frankie says, rather bitterly.

“You have to call me Harold, but she can call me Harry.”

Smirking, you bite your tongue, rolling your lips as you smooth down your blouse—trying not to make any more eye contact with the man you’d really come to see.

Sliding the paint closer to you, you offer a softer smile, one that is nothing short of kind. “It was lovely to meet you Harry, and I’ll see—“

“—Rainy.”

His voice cut through as the can slid from the counter, the sudden acknowledgement of the weight showing—likely scorched across your face as your arm drags down, shoulder going with it, just about saving it from the ground.

It’s only as you look up, do you find Frankie half over the counter, spotting the key rings and cart tokens rolling around the floor—the stand on its axis from his sudden movement.

So, is Rainy my name now?

You caught that?

I did 😏

I wasn’t thinking.

I have to ask.

Here we go.

Do you always wear the hat or is it a Frank.DIY thing? And is it Frank or Frankie or the newly learnt Francisco?

Whats wrong with my hat? And Frankie and Morales were taken.

Morales your surname? I feel I’ve hit a sore spot.

Yes. And you have but you can make it better.

How?

Meeting me for a very boring lunch this week.

You’re really twisting my arm. Which is mean. You saw the stress my shoulder had to endure today.

I tried to warn you. I’ll let you bring your Pinterest board and your saved Reels.

I fear you just want me for my organisational inspiration.

Can’t help you decide if I’m the man for your project if I don’t know what you’re after.

Fair, I guess I can meet you for a business lunch.

Would you be more into meeting me for lunch if it wasn’t a business lunch?

It depends on what kind of lunch we’re talking about.

I’m very badly trying to ask you out on a date.

Oh, that’s what you’re trying to do.

Unless I’ve read this wrong.

Nope, read it perfectly. I guess I have to confess to you that I really would love to go on a brunch date with you, Francisco.

Lunch date. Let’s not get too romantic. Don’t want you to fall head over heels and visit where I work twice in two days.

Has Harold told you how hilarious you are?

It’s nice—the place he’s chosen.

All washed in bright white, yellow splashes and pastel accents. Plants adorn as much of the walls and ceilings as humanly possible, with guitar-infused music softly playing as the door clicks into place behind you.

It's so nice, in fact, you almost want to live here. To spend an infinite amount of time brushing your thumb over the leaves to see which ones are real and which ones are very good fakes. So pretty that it’s the kind of place that if you weren’t looking for him at a table, you’d snap a photo of it all and send it to a friend.

But, as soon as your eyes land on him, he's the only photo you want to take.

White t-shirt, with a dark shirt thrown over the top, still very much all broad-shouldered and wide chest as he smooths his hand down as he stands.

The hat, one that you'd assumed would be a staple, is all but gone, curls at odd angles as though his fingers have been teasing them—tugging and pulling as the ends slightly frizz—as he moves around the table when you approach.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he grins, hesitancy thrumming before he must question himself, snaps himself back into place from dragging his eyes up and down you.

Then, he’s moving, gently—enough time to register he’s moving to hug you, and plenty of time to politely decline.

But you don’t.

Allowing his hand to slide over your waist, delicate, very much cautious and all but respectful, at the same time as his breath flutters over your cheek. You almost turn your chin, wishing to all of a sudden curl into it before his lips graze your skin, lashes fluttering before you feel him moving back.

And, fuck, the scent of his aftershave is still washing over you in thick waves. It does its best to slide up your nose and make a home there as heat rushes to your cheeks.

You almost turn, almost catch the last bit of his lips, eyes focused on his, holding, burning them in as you find yourself unable to tear away from it. Two people, swirling, completely lost in only the other—the rest of the world fading to a muted shade, nothing compared to the hue he exhumes in the centre of brightness and pops of colour.

A thing you turn over, unable to stop yourself from stealing stares as he pulls out your chair, before joining you by sitting opposite.

“Thought this was a safe bet, wasn’t sure what kind of lunch person you were.”

“More of a brunch person, honestly.”

He smirks, flicking his eyes up, even if his head is tilted down at the menu.

“It’s very nice—not been here before.”

A brow arched, he smiles—shyer, the beginning of the dimple appearing before he casts his eyes back down.

“What do you recommend, Francisco?”

You don’t miss his snort, the way he sticks his tongue in his cheek as he gives you that look—one that makes you want to keep flirting and testing him all at once. One that makes you clamp your jean-covered thighs together, but secretly hope he notices you doing so.

If he does, he doesn’t show it. Instead, using his index finger to point at various parts of the menu, recommendations falling, rolling—a shimmer in his eyes at certain parts, that makes it easy when someone comes over to ask for your order.

You suspect it’s a favourite, the one you’ve chosen. Something is written into the way he holds your gaze before he stumbles over his words, practically trips, to say his.

It’s only when you’re alone, do you rest your elbow on the table—the coldness of it rising up your skin, rooting you—as you lean your chin on your palm. “So, do I get my Pinterest boards out now or…?”

“Funny.”

You bite your tongue as you smile, staring, admiring. “So, outside of terrorising a man in his own shop, running an Instagram, what does Francisco DIY do?”

Shaking his head, he takes a sip of his water—a bead collecting, remaining on his lower lip for a ridiculously long time, before the tip of his tongue casts it away, and sweeps it from your view.

“My… my friend fights—like MMA. He stopped for a bit, but now he…”

You wait, let it form—let him decide what it is he wants to tell you and when, and how. Sliding your feet out under the table, stretching as you relax into the chair, finding his eyes fixed, concentrated.

“I go to some of his training.”

“Good at DIY and MMA training? Starting to wonder why you’re single, Butterscotch.”

He laughs, soft, rich. “Just… haven’t been looking to date.”

Nodding, you let out a heavy exhale. “I wasn’t either.”

His lips purse, twitch to the side, a smirk half forming somewhere in his cheeks as he leans over, elbow resting on the table, foot catching yours under the table.

Mirroring you entirely as the two of you just stare. And, normally, it would be weird. Odd. But, it doesn’t feel it. If anything, it makes you want to commit each crease from his smiles, each wisp of hair along his jawline that crawls up his cheeks—the patch that could be traced with your thumb, an almost heart shape left, ready to be stamped with a pair of lips.

Your eyes only pull from it when your drinks arrive—when the moment is broken by the real world—as you lean back, let your eyes move to your server, thanking them as you take your drink. And then, the two of you are alone.

“Might change my Instagram name.”

Brows lifting, he pauses his glass close to his lips. “Oh yeah, what to?”

“Rainier Grey—makes me sound elusive.”

Snorting, he shakes his head, sipping on his water before placing the glass down close to your hand. Fingers brushing against it, a thing which makes your eyes flick over your screen.

“I dare you.”

“You dare me?” you say. “How old are you?”

“A man too old for dares.”

You brush your index finger over the back of his fingers, lingering on it, noticing the way they flex as you do as if battling to take your hand in his.

Even if you’re determined to go halves, Frankie’s insistence beats you.

All ‘Don’t argue with me on this, alright?’ said in a tone deeper, more serious than you'd heard to date. And, it's hard not to let heat lick up your spine at the sound.

Even if he’s giving you kind brown eyes as you hold your hands up in defeat.

Smirking, you watch him pay, spotting the picture in his wallet of a boy with a missing-tooth smile almost as big as the man in front of you.

“Alright Morales, but next time it’s my treat.”

“Next time?”

Smirking, you bite your lower lip as you stand, grabbing your things. “Think you’ve earned it.”

Each step to the door feels heavy, a fluttering in your stomach—a grin that can’t be wiped, barely doused when you say goodbye to the people behind the counter.

It grows wider when he gets the door for you, the cooler, outside air creating a vortex of his aftershave all over again (that you hope finds a way to bury itself into your skin) when he opens it.

It’s odd, almost insane—the giddy way you feel as the two of you walk to your car. His fingers are so close to brushing yours, the distance to your little vehicle becoming shorter and shorter as you desperately wish for another few blocks.

Disappointment flares, trying to scratch out the happiness inside your stomach as you pause at the car, trying to smile, but finding it difficult.

Rubbing the back of his head, you watch him roll his lips. “I had a great time.”

Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you nod, “Me too.”

“Won't have to wait long, you've promised me brunch.”

“Think I said I’d pay. But, if you want brunch, I’m down to blow your mind.”

You realise too late, mouth hanging open, the words hitting—landing in his ear as you watch him process them.

It’s sluggish, almost lagging, the way his face lights up, the way his eyes widen and his smile grows into something close to what you had across the small table—not tinged in any way by the upcoming goodbye.

“Well, if that’s—”

“Shut up,” you say, cutting him off, hand ready to push his arm, but you slide it around his waist.

Face close to his, bodies almost flush.

You watch him swallow, how his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he flicks his gaze from eye to eye.

Licking his lips, he smiles. “Can I kiss you?”

The moment you nod, he’s leaning—lips brushing over yours, fingers tightening on his waist as you move with him, all delicate, smooth, downright velvety as your other hand finds his neck. Feels his pulse against your palm, the warmth of him against your skin, before your lips part, deepening it, letting him have more, as much as he wants—

Then, he moves you. His palm meets your car, guiding you back until your spine meets the side of your vehicle, and he leaves another mark of him—thumb and four fingers—in the grunge the city throws at your car.

The other is the one he leaves pressed against your lips, all invisible, sweet and aching. Leaning in, your fingers find purpose on his neck, skating around, teasing a low curl as you lick into his mouth delicately.

All teasing, caressing, the arm around your waist tightening as the two of you remain almost flush against the car.

And it’s dizzying, all unexpected—but then, so is he.

More so, when you part—nose against nose, eyes opening to find his doing the same.

“I should…”

Your fingers slide, wiping his bottom lip before resting it on his chin, nail stroking against the hair there. “Okay.”

“I’d like to,” he begins, slowly stepping back, allowing cooler air to flow between where your bodies were pressed together, “Not wait to see you again—and, help you. With your project.”

Rolling your lips, you smile. “I’d like that too—both of them.”

“Alright.”

“Okay,” you smile. “Let me know.”

Nodding, he steps back up on the curb, hand wiping across his mouth.

You actually changed your handle.

Told you, I don’t back down from a dare

Guess I owe you one.

Can I cash it in at any moment?

As long as it’s appropriate, yes.

There goes my idea of daring you to strip in the shop and make out with a paint tin.

Have to just dream about that one.

Oh, I will Francisco.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #pedrostories #jo: dmy

[deliciousangelfestival]

Cozy Secrets || Bucky Barnes

Character: Spy!Bucky x Roommate!Reader

Summary: Y/N discovers her seemingly perfect roommate, Bucky, is a spy.

Chp 1, Chp 2 , Chp 3 , -

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

In the heart of the bustling city, Y/N  found herself looking for the perfect roommate. Her previous housemate had bid adieu after getting engaged, leaving Y/N in the lurch to find a suitable replacement.

After countless interviews, Y/N finally stumbled upon what seemed to be the answer to her roommate's quest – Bucky, a sports photographer with a penchant for cleanliness and a propensity for quiet nights.

His nocturnal work hours meshed well with Y/N's daytime routine, and his willingness to contribute to the apartment's upkeep made him the ideal housemate.

The first three months of their living arrangement went smoothly. He was always punctual with rent, impeccably tidy, and even willing to take on household chores without complaint – he was the roommate Y/N had always dreamed of.

However, something twisted happened one day when she returned home later than usual.

As she swung open the door, ready to unwind in her sanctuary, her eyes widened in disbelief and horror.

Her once-immaculate living space was now a chaotic mess, and right in the middle of the turmoil were two men engaged in a heated scuffle, with Bucky caught in the crossfire.

"Excuse me, what the heck is this?" Y/N exclaimed, her initial shock transforming into a mix of rage and confusion. The three combatants froze, turning their attention to Y/N.

The two men, realizing they were caught in the act, exchanged nervous glances but didn't utter a word. Bucky seized the opportunity for a strategic move in the split second of confusion.

With a swift motion, he expertly maneuvered between the brawlers and shut them down with a series of impeccably executed moves, leaving them in a stunned heap on the floor.

"Bucky, what in the world is happening here?" Y/N demanded, her eyes darting between the mess and her roommate, who was now defensive.

Bucky, seeing the need for a more honest approach, took a deep breath and decided to come clean. "Y/N, there's something you should know. I'm not just a sports photographer. I'm actually a spy."

Y/N stared at him, her initial anger giving way to sheer disbelief. "A spy? Are you serious, Bucky? Is this some sort of elaborate prank?"

Bucky shook his head, his expression serious. "No, I'm dead serious. I chose this apartment because it provides the perfect vantage point to keep an eye on a target across the building. Those guys you just saw? They were after the same target, and things got a bit out of hand."

Y/N blinked, processing this unexpected revelation. "Wait, so you're telling me that all this time, while I thought you were just a neat freak sports photographer, you've been living a double life as a spy?"

Looking genuinely remorseful, Bucky began, "Y/N, I'm really sorry about the mess. This wasn't supposed to happen, and I didn't mean to put you in this situation. It was a mistake, and I take full responsibility."

Y/N, arms still crossed, nodded. "Apologies won't fix my now-ruined living room, Bucky. This is unacceptable. I thought I finally found the perfect roommate, not a spy who turns my place into a battlefield."

Bucky, understanding the gravity of the situation, nodded solemnly. "I understand, Y/N. My agency will cover the expenses for the repairs and replacements. I'll make sure everything is back to normal. You have my word."

True to his word, Bucky coordinated with his agency, ensuring a team was dispatched to clean up the aftermath of the brawl. Broken items were replaced with new ones, and the apartment was restored to its former glory.

A few days later, as Y/N surveyed the now spotless living room, Bucky approached her tentatively. "I hope this makes up for the mess, Y/N. I really didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Y/N, now feeling a bit more forgiving, sighed. "Fine, Bucky. You've cleaned up your mess, literally. But I still need time to get over the fact that my roommate is a spy who uses my apartment for covert operations."

Bucky hesitated, "Y/N, I hope you don't want me to move out. I really like it here."

As Y/N contemplated whether she should ask Bucky to find a new place, her phone buzzed with a notification about her upcoming high school reunion. The idea of attending filled her with dread.

"Ugh, a high school reunion," she muttered to herself.

Bucky, overhearing, raised an eyebrow. "Problem with the reunion?"

Y/N grimaced. "I despise those events.” She doesn’t want to meet the popular girl from her school who constantly bullies her. But this time, she wants to show off. She got an excellent job nice apartment. But there’s one she doesn’t have. 

A boyfriend. 

Y/N looked Bucky from head to toe and mumbled, “What if..." But this idea was insane; she shook her head. 

Bucky looked curious. "What if what?"

“Nothing.”

Bucky, understanding the high school dynamics, chuckled. "Ah, trying to one-up the mean girls from the past. So you need someone to accompany you? I'm in.”

Y/N fell silent for a moment, a realization slowly dawning on her. "You knew about my personal life?"

Bucky rubbed his head, a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. He didn't deny it, saying, "Well, I'm a spy, and my agency does background checks on everyone."

Her hands now covering her face, Y/N sighed, "Oh no...."

Bucky couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction. "What do you think? With my spy skills, I bet I could impress everyone at the reunion. In exchange, please don't kick me out. Pleasee...."

Y/N grumbled, her frustration apparent. "Fine."

Bucky grinned, a mix of relief and amusement in his eyes. "Thanks Y/N. I swear you won’t regret this."

As they navigated the quirks of their unique living situation, little did they know that more surprises and adventures awaited them in the days ahead.

Chp 1, Chp 2 , Chp 3 ,-

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

#buckybarnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #winter soldier #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #sebastian x y/n #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

[i-heart-hxh]

So, a few days ago I found this post on Reddit from 2 years ago (that sadly barely got any attention at the time) that sheds a ton of light on the separation scene between Gon and Killua, and my mind is blown! I've known for years that there was some sort of Togashi "coding" in the dialogue and it was always like I could get halfway to understanding, but this post gives the rest of the puzzle pieces that I was missing, and ties into other scenes that I was uncertain about the meaning of as well. It's heartbreaking, but also hopeful for their future! I had to share it with you all. Please read it!

The original Reddit post has been deleted, but here is a link to the author's Reddit profile. (I received permission from the original author to post this here.)

In-Depth analysis on the Hidden Reasons behind Gon & Killua's separation scene (ep 147) Why Gon is 'Number 2'

The translations across the separation scene in both manga (chp 338) and the anime (ep 147, 2011) have some shortfalls. These dialogues are vital for understanding even the first layer of reasons behind this separation.

REASONS FOR KILLUA'S DELICATELY PLANNED SEPARATION 

1. WHEN -

There are very important reasons why Killua picked a specific timing to tell Gon about Alluka. It was Killua's plan all along, to only tell Gon at a moment's notice, to make sure Gon won’t get time to ask any DETAILS. He is deliberately downplaying the seriousness of everything he’s been through to heal Gon, so it will have less impact on Gon, and at the same time, avoid Gon asking details. Prior to healing Gon, Killua specifically asked Morel and Leorio to promise not to tell Gon that he saved him. After Gon was healed, there was a scene in the anime (ep 148) which showed the three spent a night together before reaching the World Tree. During that time, Killua still haven't said anything. It wasn't until the moment when they were literally saying the last goodbye, Killua casually brought up:

“Oh, by the way, this guy healed you."

I want to emphasis the word Killua used to address Alluka was “こいつ”. This is a very light and overly casual word used to address someone you know, and usually a playful guy friend (e.g. “This guy used to be my neighbour.” type of feeling). The manga and anime translation, “She’s the one that healed you,” did not clearly depict the intentional casualness.

2. WHAT was SAID -

If Killua just doesn’t want to burden Gon with guilt and responsibility, then why not just keep his mouth shut and say nothing? That’s because Killua found a better option than not telling Gon anything. Killua shifted the “priority of reasons” a bit, so the VERSION OF EVENTS he told Gon, was PRIORITIZED on Alluka’s rescue rather than healing Gon. This way, they will also get to THANK Gon, and put an emphasis on thanking Gon because Killua make it SEEMED like it was more important to rescue Alluka, that the INITIAL REASON for Killua to go home, was to rescue Alluka. Only AFTER Alluka was freed, they came to the hospital to heal Gon, out of convenience, since only Alluka has the ability to do so, and since she’s now outside. The MAIN motive for these past events has been delicately swapped around by Killua, so the focus switched to the rescue of Alluka, rather than healing Gon. Hence Alluka is “No. 1”, Gon is “No. 2”. Downplaying it so healing Gon was just a bonus convenience (ep 147, 19:12 to 19:51).

Killua then goes on another level to make this version of events seem even more realistic, by saying “….You owe me a lot now,” in a teasing and playful tone of voice. This is to again, downplay the seriousness of everything he’s been through, to comfort Gon that "Yes you owe me one now, but don’t you worry! I will make sure you pay it back okay?! Hehe!”

3. WHY -

The fight with Pitou allowed Killua to witness Gon's ultimately immature mind set when it comes to “repaying someone, and redeeming himself.” Kite lost an arm and his life to protect him. So Gon gave his life and was even more happy when Pitou took his arm too. Gon will always want to “match” what was sacrificed by another, by throwing away AT LEAST the same. Not “sacrificing”, but THROWING AWAY. It’s so immature, so dangerous, no one will be able to keep up with him. Killua was very confident with how much he could take, but even Killua himself is at limit. This ultimate baka!! (ep 136, 17:50 - 20:17)

If this is how far Gon will go for Kite, he can only imagine what Gon would go recklessly into if he knew the DETAILS. This is when Killua decided on a way to part with Gon the way they did, and to PROVIDE him a particular REASON.

“I’m prepared to spent the rest of my life protecting her.” 

This is the reason Killua wants Gon to know, but NOT what he actually wants to do with his life. Although it’s true he feels responsible and genuinely wish to protect Alluka and Nanika, but it’s not what he ultimately WANTS to do. He NEEDS to protect Alluka, but he WANTS to spent his entire life by the side of a certain baka…

After the previous events, Killua was traumatized, especially when he saw Gon's twisted decaying arm. That was a breaking point for him, after that, the only thing that matters THE MOST for him is for Gon to be safe. He also realized that in order to protect this baka... it’s better if he keeps a distance for now, until he finds a solution to keep Alluka safe from Illumi and his family.

4. THE PARTING -

By planning this parting with Gon, Killua hopes Gon will become detached from him. And that time and distance will slowly render him less important to Gon. So if he was to die... (because Illumi is hunting them down) he did for Alluka, he did it for the vow to protect Alluka, not Gon. We knew Killua always plans ahead, and here, he plants this reason for Gon in the future so he won’t need to feel responsible if he was to die protecting Alluka (or die with Alluka while Illumi is hunting them). This is what’s going through Killua’s head:

“If I die, you’re not responsible for anything. You don’t owe me anything, so NEVER throw your life away again. My only one wish, is for you to be safe. So here I am. I’m parting ways with you... Because I SAID you are only ... No. 2 ... I SAID you are not the most important to me.. So don’t think of me as the most important to you too….”

This, is Killua’s eternal Devotion. 

5. THE RESULT -

As a result of this deliberate planning by Killua,

Gon was made to believe:

While I was recovering in hospital Killua had to go home and rescue his sister 

Alluka is such a cute sister and she can grant Killua any wish?!!! Wow…that’s one cool sister…

Well… no wonder Killua thinks his cool sister is more important than me, it’s only natural. 

Looks like Killua finally found what he wants to do. He will enjoy traveling the world with such a cool sister, it will be so much fun. I should be happy for him, I can’t hold him here... I have to let him go…

VS

The DETAILS omitted:

Gon was not recovering at all in the hospital. Killua RESORTED to USE Alluka in order to heal Gon. 

Alluka’s blood stained dark past and the risks and uncertainty that still involves.

Baka Gon is always No. 1 !

Killua and Alluka are desperately trying to find a way to out of Illumi’s grasp. Illumi is hunting them down and trying to make Killua his puppet again. And this time it's not going to be just a needle in the head... Killua can feel it. And if things doesn’t work out, he will just kill Alluka.

These Reasons are the core of the separation. We have a song named “Reason”… aren’t the lyrics shedding a new layer of light now?

6. IMPORTANT WORDS ALLUKA USED TO FACILITATE A BETTER RELATIONSHIP AFTER REUNION -

Killua promised to “always be together” with Alluka.

But to this promise, Alluka’s response was always silent (episode 145, 3:32 to 4:19). She looked at Killua with deep thought. Because even in such a short amount of time, she realized Killua is doing all this to ALSO or MORE SO protect Gon. It was never just for her, it will never be just for her, and there will never be anyone more important than Gon for Killua. She’s moved by Killua’s devotion and resolve, and she can also feel his sadness…   

If, the situation was different, if Gon was never there to begin with, and Killua just happened to solely come to Alluka’s rescue, and then make a promise to stay together with her forever, Alluka’s natural reaction will be melting with happiness, she’d be crying tears of joy, and hugging Killua. But in this instance, she was composed, she sensed her brother’s deep seriousness and sadness. That’s why later on, she reassured the two at parting, that they will see each other again, without disclosing Killua’s true REASONS. 

The Exacted words Alluka used (Manga chpt 338, 2011 anime epi 147)

a. Manga translation: “I’m going to HUG my brother for a while and then I will LET HIM GO.”  

b. Better translation: “I’m going to have my brother all to myself for a while and then I will let him free.”                            

c. The exacted phrase: “I’m going to Monopolise my brother Exclusively for a period of time, then I will Release him.”

独り占 (Monopolise Exclusively) 

Very strong characters with Explicit meaning. Have it all to oneself. Same characters and meaning used in Chinese as well. （独占）

解放 (Release) 

This is much more formal and serious than “let go”. It implies the subject was initially bound/locked/restricted. Also the same characters and meaning used in Chinese.

Alluka employed these words to imply a forceful lead in this “deal” of owning Killua exclusively. These words have an underlying tone of enslavement. 

Why? Because Alluka knows, the harder she IMPOSES herself on Killua during their time together, the more effective it would be on the easing of Killua’s own guilt. 

Killua felt immensely guilty.

No one will enjoy a relationship bound by guilt. 

Alluka knows clearly that part of her brother’s promise, was formed with guilt, from using her and Nanika, that he was having fun with Gon while Alluka was literally forgotten. Although it's true that this was largely due to Illumi's manipulation, but the fact that he did just left her in the basement all this time was both unacceptable and unforgivable to Killua himself (episode 138, 13:28).

Therefore apart from protecting Gon, this was the other important reason for this separation. Almost as if Killua has accepted this as a befitting price to pay in order to redeem himself as a brother.

Alluka and Nanika have no condition nor demand in return for Killua’s requests. But Killua imposed a price on himself for having Gon healed. Out of guilt. Alluka knows, Nanika knows. That’s why Alluka used the word 解放 (release), because it will make Killua feel better, that he has complied with her ‘enslavement’, so when the time comes, Killua will be able to release HIMSELF from guilt, and go back to Gon, properly. Alluka loves her brother, and she’s prepared to help him towards a better relationship with Gon in the future, by helping him to eliminating this chain of guilt.

lol Alluka totally ships Gon and Killua ! XD

Thank you for reading.

#hunter x hunter #hxh #killugon #gonkillu #gon #killua #alluka #meta #PLEASE read this post if you have lingering questions and confusion about the separation! #like most of us do! #I think it's incredibly helpful and explains so much #having this makes a big difference to me in how I interpret the meaning and reasons for the separation #and what Togashi did and did not tell us with it

[elaemae]

The premium version of human is here to wreak house, mfs.

Chp.2

[TwstxObeyme!AFAB!reader]

Whoa.. 😳

Thanks for the feedback, likes and reblogs guys~ It really makes me happy that my hard work is appreciated😊

Guys, what gender should my story's Yuu be in? It's quite hard to refer to two different characters with both gender neutral pronouns 😅

READ FIRST; PROLOGUE:1

• • • •

Again; Pronouns used to refer to MC are blue, because MC will be mistaken for a guy a lot.

SYNOPSIS:

With the Opening Ceremony going off the rails for a second time, MC is more than eager to get back home and probably binge-watch their stress away with their emotionally-repressed boys.

Though with the current situation right now, they don't think that will be happening soon.. Oh well, at least they're not the only otherworldly outlier here... *Nightbringer flashbacks intensifies*

$o|0m°N?

On the other hand, Yuu makes a new friend.

Yuu doesn't know if this makes them a problematic person or not, but Yuu is happy that there's someone else in a similar predicament as them in this strange world, even if it meant that their new companion also had to be kidnapped by a problematic school/lowkey-highkey a cult to be here as well.

But of course, there's trouble in the horizon as the whole fiasco in the mirror ceremony caused the students of NRC to keep a close and careful gaze onto the MC. I'm talkin' from but not limited to; The Fish Mafia, Queen of hearts and Evil queen Incarnates, even down to your perfectly normal 500+ year old war-veteran that looks like a child.

Meanwhile, The Devildom, Human world, and The Celestial realm are feeling a sense of something foreboding in the air... It's probably nothing though.. right?......right?? The calm before the storm. Or the calm before anyone barges into MC's room.

Prologue: 2 Electric-boogaloo

Watching the mysterious and somewhat confused-looking student continuously dodge Riddle and Azul's spells with a calm expression, sharp gaze and a frightening precision, Lilia is waiting for the perfect time to jump in.

Preferably when the student ran in front of him so that he could tackle him to the ground.

Crowley isn't doing anything but screech. Again.

Haah....

• • • •

Azul's smile widens when this ever mysterious new student blocks Riddles' Signature spell by quickly spinning his fancy staff into a make-shift shield once again. what an interesting staff, transforming from a necklace into a cane that can be used for offense and defense..

Azul straight up grins he can see Schoenheit's smile and Kingscholar's shit-eating smirk from here, as well as hear Shroud's maniacal giggles when Riddle screeches at the student to just cooperate and that "NO WE ARE NOT A CULT!!!!" "That's what cults always say!"

Prompting a round of laughter from the useles– *ehem* new students in the hall. How annoying..

What an amusing lad.. Though, Azul wonders.. can all his other jewelry transform as well? Besides the earrings, choker, necklace and forehead ornament that he's wearing, the student also has a ring in his middle finger and in both of his ring fingers, a wide bracelet, and even some bangles in his ankles.

And if all of those jewels can transform into something?....Ohhh, then he really needs to get his hands on them asap.

Seeing Lilia gearing up to jump the student, Azul shifted a bit and tried to lead the student closer to Lilia.

Help idk how to describe shit💀

You click your tongue as you got surrounded by Mr. bird-bitch, that red-mf, Solomon-but-from-wish, Columbina's cousin, lion-dude, "I'm a bad-bitch with a sad past" guy, and a floating tablet.

You ended up getting bound by the bird-bitch's whip the moment you tried to leap off a window in your belphie-escaping-his-responsibilities style. Your pact mark of pride flickered, and Lucifer wonders what MC could be dreaming about for their pride to have taken a hit at this time of the night.

You turned your staff back into a necklace by then, so you couldn't really block the whip and that redhead's spell from hitting you.

You had socked Walmart-Solomon in the face though when he sneakily tried to take one of your bangles while you were being yanked back from the window. Satan stirred in his sleep, feeling but not registering the creeping irritation under your skin.

So now you're here, with a collar for your troubles and a whip locking your arms to your body.

You're just about to resentfully summon Lucifer or something when the redhead who collared you with this uncomfortable fugly-ass neckwear started lecturing you and shit about etiquette and how disrespectful you are for trying to leap out the window and how you should be honored to be there blahblahblah—

Hell no. You ain't letting this short-pimp talk to you like this. (You should really stop hanging around too much with Asmo. Or Levi when he's being a hater on the internet.)

Satan stirred once again, starting to rouse from his slumber as he felt your irritation start to turn into embers of anger.

Lucifer furrows his brows, feeling a rush of indignity that can only have come from you. But why? Weren't you in bed? He hasn't felt you leave through any of the detection barriers he'd set up around your room so you should still be inside, right?

"I think it's much more disrespectful to have your fuckin horses kidnap someone straight from their goddamn bed just to attend a little ceremony they've never even heard of."

You narrow your eyes as you see the bird-man and goons look taken aback in varying degrees of obviousness. (A figure near the mirror perked-up; 'Maybe this person is in a similar situation as them!')

Bruh, what the fuck did they expect??

• • • • •

The Vice-prefects of all seven dorms lead the new students out of the Ceremony hall, leaving behind the five (sorry Mal. Also, Jamil's ass definitely dragged Kalim out with him.) dorm leaders with the headmaster to solve the issues of the sTiLl-uNdEr-tHe-efFecTs-oF-tHe-teLepoRtaTioN-sPelL new student who utterly refuses to cooperate with them.

Riddle is about to combust, Leona wants to go back to bed only to be dragged back by the headmaster—, Vil wants his beauty sleep but was dragged back by that petty bitch, Leona—, While Idia and Azul decided to stick around for their own personal reasons. ("He looks like an anime character—" "Brother, I don't think it's good to be taking pictures of someone without permission—" "AHH–! O-ORTHO?!")

While Yuu is.. hiding behind the mirror.

(The kinda-silver haired guy seems to be in his seventh ritual of making sure his face didn't get bruised from the solid right hook to the face he got.)

(Yuu would've felt bad for him if the guy didn't have such a shady smile on his face while he was massaging his punched jaw.)

Meanwhile...

"Oy human, it's me!"

Mammon knocked on MC's door, fully intent on bothering their sleep and cozying up on their bed again.

He waited for a few seconds, no answer.

He knocked again.

No answer.

... Look, it's not like The Great Mammon is worried or anything but this is strange..

The human always answers their door after a knock or two even if it's the middle of the night.

... Dammit.

Mammon is full of grumbles as he consciously sharpens his senses, tryna sense his the human.

They better not be ignoring him or he'll–

Wait.

What? W- wait a second..

• • • •

The quietness of the night in the House of Lamentation vanished as the sound of a door being busted down rang out.

It's other residents could barely even register the sound before a shout rang out. A shout that sent dread right into their cores.

"MC?!"

← Pr. 1 | Chapter List | Prologue 3 →

'What the?! Why can't I summon them??'

Elae: Hehe~ I'm back with some food~

Thanks for reading this far, I hope you enjoyed this chapter😊

Btw, do y'all want Yuu to be a love interest?

How do I tag ppl??

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obswd #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphagor x reader #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me mephisto x mc #obey me solomon x reader #obey me simeon x reader #obey me thirteen x reader #crossover #twst x obey me #twst x reader #obey me x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #polyamory #reader is a badass #obey me raphael x reader

[that-student-that-has-homework]

The Rationality of Emotion

Al-Haitham / Reader Chapters: Chp 1 | Chp 2

Read the Full Story on Ao3 | Tumblr MasterList Here (Maybe even leave me a comment please? :3< )

Summary: Kaveh simply couldn't believe that Al-Haitham was going to marry before him! Not that ill-tempered, bullheaded, brutish excuse for a man! Not just that! The rational brute was marrying the Emotional Scholar, of all people! Rationality and Emotion? Marrying? How could this be possible?! --o-- A story in which: you just wanted help reading some runes, your parents wanted to you to marry, Al-Haitham wanted a cover story for when he went out into the desert, and Kaveh is...well...he's...he's there for you. Needless to say you're now all one big happy (?) family!

Chapter 1: Unexpected

The sun had long since set, the moon, or what of it could be seen anyway - it had phases and for all he knew it could be a new moon tonight, he’s been rather preoccupied with his latest design and hadn’t had the chance to admire the lovely glowing orb. 

Hmph. 

That annoying roommate (effectively a tyrannical landlord despite his grace in allowing him to stay with him-this man operates in paradoxes doesn’t he?) of his would argue that - actually most students would argue that the moon doesn’t in fact emit any light, rather it reflects the light of the sun and whatnot. Yes, he was very well aware, thank you very much, he’d studied elementary physics as well.

In fact he was likely more knowledgeable in physics than that linguist. He was an architect, an engineer.

Nevermind all that, what was important was that it was late and his roommate had yet to return, much to his pleasure really. It wasn’t uncommon that he’d be out late or even go for trips without warning, perhaps this was one of those blessed situations where he would be able to go for days without seeing him. Lovely.

Of course things could not always be so delightful, as the architectural genius (yes he truly was a marvel) had just about completed the application of his honey mask that he heard the door open. He’d rather not be seen with his face covered in honey, not that he really cared if that excessively confident junior of his saw him in such a state, he simply wasn’t in the mood to explain himself.

“Kaveh,” oh how unusual for him to approach him first.

“What is it? I’m busy,” the man in question said as he made sure that he had in fact covered the entirety of his face in honey.

“Is that so?” Came the unimpressed reply. “Suit yourself.”

Suit himself? What on Teyvat? Appearances be damned. Kaveh made his way out to the kitchen; he had to wash his hands and return the honey jar either way after all. Once that task was dealt with he approached his housemate who…

Where was he?

The sounds of running water from the restroom gave away the scribe’s location. Perhaps it really wasn’t all that important after all. For all he knew, Al-Haitham was probably about to inform of something truly infuriating and pointless to him.

-_-

The following week he found the parts to a new piece of furniture, a bed, in one corner of the salon. Oddly enough it was wider than the standard size, perhaps a queen sized bed? How peculiar, from what he’d witnessed of the prickly scholar he didn’t care for such extravagance. No matter, it wasn’t any of his business anyway.

The day after that the architect returned late at night to see a new pile of wood in the salon. Seems the scribe really was upgrading his furniture. Kaveh moved to inspect the craftsmanship on the wood. Al-Haitham had taste, as much as he hated to admit it. Though it was simple, it was tasteful, and would likely not go out of style any time soon.

The following night the reputable architect pulled an all-nighter at his atelier in the Akademiya, working diligently to complete a blueprint, and only managed to finally return to his shared accommodations the night after. Which coincidentally was when things truly became strange. The third room in the house, which was mostly used for storage, was now occupied with that large bed he’d seen before, a closet, and yet another pile of wood in a corner of the room.

Just what on Teyvat was going on?

No sooner had he thought that, then the door had opened, the owner of the house marching in. Excellent timing, truly, he needed an explanation for all of these changes.

“Just what is going on here?” He asked, gesturing to the former storage room.

The pleasant expression the scribe seemed to have before dropped, vanishing without a trace. Wait - pleasant expression? Unless he was reading a book, or things were going his way, that was rare. Was this all an elaborate plot to mess with him? Nevermind that!

“Isn’t it obvious?” The scribe returned.

Kaveh stared at him in silence. 

Obvious? Obvious he says? It was so deep into obscurity that there couldn’t be anything remotely obvious about it. It might as well be the Abyss!

“Had it been obvious I wouldn’t find the need to ask you, now would I?” He sighed.

“You have a tendency to ask about the obvious with little thought,” his junior shrugged, “have you given the situation any thought prior to asking?”

“I’ve given it plenty of thought,” much more than it deserved really, “I was under the impression you were changing your furniture.”

The unimpressed expression his housemate gave him was truly punchable. Clenching his fists to restrain himself from physically attacking his housemate, he continued, “however you’ve placed them in the unused room of all places, what are you planning?”

“You got that far and still didn’t find the answer?” Dear Lesser Lord Kusanali, it was taking every fibre of his being not to grab the nearest thing-a rather large volume that the irritating man had been reading recently coincidentally-and lob it straight into his head. 

The jerk had the audacity to sigh, like he was the one who was tired, “we’re going to have another person living here soon.”

“What?”

“Is it that much of a surprise?” He moved past him to the kitchen, the architect following. “I tried to inform you earlier, however you were busy.”

“When did you-” oh. That was why the scribe had uncharacteristically approached him back then.

Nevermind that though: there was a more pressing matter at hand.

“Who? ” He had to warn them, unless they absolutely, desperately needed lodging, no! Even then! It would be best if they stayed far away from someone so insufferable. Then again he was there, he’d make it all bearable-

“My wife.”

“Your what? ” The architect looked his roommate up and down as though the signs of matrimony would magically appear upon him. “You’re married?”

“Not yet,” came the calm reply.

“You’re engaged?! ” Unbelievable! “Who in Teyvat would agree to marry you?”

“To my understanding, I’m a rather attractive candidate,” the engaged scribe returned calm as ever, “I’m able-bodied, capable of providing due to my prestigious employment, and have a respectable lineage.”

“The poor girl, what sort of trickery did you resort to?” Kaveh would have to find her and ask what possessed her to make such a horrible decision.  

“Trickery? What nonsense are you babbling about?” The scribe folded his arms across his chest.

“What sane, rational lady would agree to wed you?” He marched up to him. “What kind of things did you say to her? I didn’t even think you were capable of such speech!”

The perplexed expression that usually brought him a semblance of joy only served to fan the flames of-of…uh…of confused irritation? 

Surprise? 

Goodness! 

He was a cocktail of bewildering emotions!

“If you’re insinuating I employed dishonest methods to impress my future spouse,” oh bother, he did not have the patience to deal with Al-Haitham’s temperament on a good day - let alone when he’s as deprived of sleep as he was right now, “I’ll have to advise you: choose your next words carefully.”

“You mean to tell me she was impressed by you, as you are?” The blonde scoffed, “there’s no way she knows about your temper.” He waved his hand dismissively, after all if a lady knew of…oh no. “Unless! It can’t be!”

His housemate returned his look of horror with a bored look of his own. 

“Has she been blinded by…by…by,” dear Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, he couldn’t even bring himself to say the word, “l-l-lo lo-loo-temporary affection,” he really couldn’t say it, “and is incapable of thinking rationally when it comes to you?”

He hated to admit it, but he has overheard ladies giggle and croon over Al-Haitham, on the rare occasion they would glimpse him. Well with how he dressed-nevermind that!

“She’s viewing you through a rose tinted lens?! She’s not in the right mindset to be making life decisions then,” oh he absolutely had to find her, “quickly tell me her name.”

To his greatest surprise, Al-Haitham had a rather smug, if small, smile upon his face, “well I can assure you that’s not the case,” he gestured in explanation, “my fiancee was not under the blinding influence of love, or as you put it ‘temporary affection,’” his expression only grew more smug, “we both came to the decision to marry after discussing it in depth and evaluating it rationally.”

Kaveh didn’t believe a word of that. Not for an instant. There was no way. Absolutely not. She had to be a convincing actress or something. 

“Impossible, you’re the only insufferable person who uses logic in these situations,” the architect denied, “she must be a very compelling actress.”

“In which case she would be the dishonest one,” his astute junior returned, “I hope you realize your response implies that she is so acutely infatuated with me she would actively seek to appeal to my personal preferences.”

Why this! 

“How did you arrive at that conclusion?” Disbelief contorted the architect’s pretty features into a scowl. 

The absurdity of such a notion. 

“You said she could be pretending to be rational in order to marry me. By acquiring me as a husband, she establishes an exclusive romantic claim to me and discourages most competition while maintaining leverage against the outliers. All of which would imply a very keen desire to monopolize me, hence: infatuation.”

“That’s not it at all! She could simply be in desperate need of a husband for any assortment of reasons!”

He’s been a fake lover to a lady scholar once or twice, helping them ward off unwanted attention for a while. He’d also heard some scholars complain about how their parents wishing for them to marry was getting in the way of their work. Not to mention the sheer number of scholars who married for the sake of a project or research (which was more often related to genealogy). 

There were the contract marriages of those wishing to be done with it all too. Oddly enough they were mostly successful, with feelings developing between them later.

Unfortunately this poor lady was to marry this bullheaded linguist so the chances of that were nothing short of zero, and he was being generous. On a particularly bad day Kaveh would be compelled to put that number in the negatives.

“So you mean to say you’re concerned I’m being taken advantage of?” The obstinate nuisance inquired. 

“How you arrive at these outlandish conclusions is beyond me,” Kaveh massaged his temples with one hand. 

“As is basic reasoning it would seem.”

“Excuse me?” The disrespect! 

Hmph! 

If he wants to be like that then: “you said your wife,” the poor foolish girl whom he had to rescue, “was coming to live with us.”

“Strictly speaking, given she will be mistress of this house as I am its master and she, my wife,” he spoke coolly, “you will be living with us,” 

The audacity. No matter if he was right! There were kinder ways to put it! 

Nevermind that though, “but you’re not married yet, meaning she’s your fiancée.”

“Yes.”

“Then you mean to say your fiancée is coming to live with us,” while he wasn’t usually one for semantics, he refused to yield.

“While she is currently my fiancée,” now this Haravatat scholar, definitely was a semanticist, “she won’t move in until we marry and hold the wedding ceremony. At which point she will be my wife not fiancée and as my wife she will be coming to live here, with me, as is customary of a married couple.”

“Goodness this poor girl,” well the marriage had yet to go through, “how did you manage this?”

“I proposed.”

“Clearly. No one’s going to propose to you,” Kaveh had so many questions, “But what drove you to propose?”

“Her openness to marriage, obviously” Al-Haitham’s tone revealed just how stupid he thought the inquiry was.

“That’s not-” the blonde sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose, goodness he was much too tired for this, “nevermind, who is she?”

“You’ll be meeting her soon enough.”

Ugh. As much as he wanted to save the girl, he was running at fumes and this stubborn ox of a man was not going to budge. Regrettably. 

“When is the wedding? I better be invited.”

“Yes of course,” he gestured noncommittally, “I wouldn’t dare think to exclude my own housemate.”

By the tone he was using it was clear he had considered not inviting him.

–

Kaveh felt he needed to air his grievances about this current dilemma to someone who would be able to fully understand the gravity of the situation. He was also in desperate need of inspiration, so he decided a trip to the Avidya Forest was necessary. He’d be able to kill two birds with one stone that way.

“Al-Haitham? You mean the scribe?” Tighnari’s puzzled expression brought the blonde a sense of calm.

“Yes!” Kaveh responded eagerly. “To think someone so insufferable would!” He paused in the middle of his tirade. “Who could possibly subject themselves to such misery?”

Collei, bless her, the sweet girl, came by with some fresh tea and some snacks at that moment. Her master was quick to take them off her hands, with only a small complaint from her.

“Is Al-Haitham really so bad?” She couldn’t help her curiosity.

She was fortunately spared the misery of having to meet the insufferable scholar. Kaveh couldn’t be any more thankful, truly.

“I’ve told you about what it’s been like living with him,” the architect accepted the little handleless tea cup with its plate that the forest ranger offered him, “and this is just a temporary arrangement caused by extreme circumstances. This girl is about to be permanently stuck in this situation!”

“I imagine her situation will be different from yours given she’ll be his wife,” the proficient botanist offered a cup to his pupil.

“Regardless!” Kaveh continued. “I just want to know who would be so tasteless? so blind? Who could despise themselves so much as to marry Al-Haitham?”

“Hmm, I think you’re asking the wrong question,” came the pensive response of the forest watcher. 

“What do you mean?”

“I’m more interested in why he decided to get married,” Tighnari gestured, as he returned to his seat, “he doesn’t seem like the type to particularly enjoy company.”

The blonde paused. 

Truthfully that was curious.

As Tighnari had said: Al-Haitham conducted himself in a manner to ward people off. He wasn’t the type to engage in conversations for the sake of fostering friendships.

“How did this happen?” The curious architect wondered aloud. “Then again he is a man. Perhaps this is just a means to that end?”

“There are alternate solutions that are less work than marriage,” the long-eared fellow rebutted.

“This is true, however,” Kaveh squinted at nothing, frowning, “if we assess this with the rationality he’s obsessed with.”

“Oh. Then I could see why he’d consider it.”

“Yes, rather than regularly exerting effort on varying conquests that could each bring about their own problems,” the blonde pinched the rim of his tea cup, lifting it to his lips, “in this case his conquest resides in his house, requiring little effort.”

“And there would be less complications should these ‘conquests’ result in children,” the ranger added, “though there are contraceptive methods and herbs according to the literature.”

“That is a horrifying thought,” the architect shook his head.

“What is?” One of Tighnari’s ears tilted slightly to one side as if in question, before a laugh emerged from him. “Oh you mean Al-Haitham having kids?”

Kaveh simply nodded.

“Well there’s no guarantee they’ll inherit his personality, they might get their mother’s,” the botanist mused.

“Assuming her personality is radically different,” the blonde leaned back, “according to Al-Haitham he and she decided to get married after assessing it logically.”

“No two people are exactly alike, you know.”

“True, true,” he sat up again in a pensive stance, “now that you’ve mentioned it: it is curious who could have managed to earn his approval.”

“Well I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough,” Tighnari refilled Kaveh’s tea cup.

“I’ll let you know when I do.”

-_-

The Light of Kshahrewar returned to Sumeru City shortly after, full of inspiration, and even more questions.

The reclusive bookworm of a scribe…yes…who could possibly…draw his attention? Who could possibly be deemed as compatible? Possibly a person of mild temperament? Who knew?

At his atelier, the architect was very pleased to be graced with the presence of a certain Vahumana scholar, to whom he could rant endlessly about every architectural style in history. Yes, this historian was a rapt listener who delighted in the knowledge he offered and often contributed some fascinating facts as well. Facts which sometimes inspired his imagination.

A dear acquaintance.

He’d been in the middle of talking about the architecture and the engineering employed by the ancient desert civilization prior to the destruction caused by the Archon War and whatnot, when the topic of a rumored tomb dedicated to the wife of some king or another came up. 

To his surprise, he did not receive the awe and adoration he’d expected. The response was tame, and mostly curious, bordering on suspicious as the tale seemed unfamiliar to this particular historian. Not that there was any doubting Kaveh’s little fun fact! Not at all! But kings that doted on their wives were few and far between usually.

“You must admit that the notion of a man loving his wife enough to dedicate a great architectural wonder to her is a romantic one though,” the architect insisted.

“It makes for a romantic tale no doubt,” the delightful scholar smiled in concession.

“I sense there is a ‘however’ in your statement,” Kaveh folded his arms across his chest and leaned back.

“Well,” that was a rather tentative tone, “I suppose I could be overly cynical, there is an extensive library of love poems dedicated by men to their lovers.”

The architect felt his previous joy return. Ah if only Al-Haitham were so easy to reason with!

“In all honesty, I am more interested as to how this temple and the theory of it being dedicated to a king’s beloved wife came about,” ah yes spoken like a true Vahumana scholar! “I wonder what analyses and artifacts they excavated to arrive at such a conclusion.”

He hadn’t looked into it much beyond the conjectured blueprints, which were stunning - make no mistake! So, he didn’t have an answer to that. 

Oh well.

At least his enthusiasm regarding how romantic the notion was reciprocated. While the initial response betrayed his expectations: he was delighted that his point of view was now as appreciated as it ought to be. 

After all, who wouldn’t enjoy such a romantic gesture.

Oh.

He knew who.

Al-Haitham.

Hmm…perhaps he could do with a feminine opinion.

“I’d like your opinion on something,” he asked after a short lull in the conversation.

“Yes?”

“My roommate recently mentioned he’s getting married,” he paused staring at some random tile as he gathered his thoughts, “he mentioned he and his fiancée had come to the agreement to marry logically.”

Well that was a strangely awkward look he was receiving, “do you actually believe that?”

“I think people should not neglect rationality when trying to choose a spouse,” he could not believe thi- “though some attraction is also necessary.”

“You mean to say,” Kaveh took a moment to better articulate his thoughts, “love is not necessary when marrying?”

“Which form of love are you talking about?” Goodness, where did the past agreeability go? 

Ah yes! He’d forgotten a critical fact: Vahumana scholars could be just as semantic as Haravatat scholars.

His attention was brought back to the current conversation with a sigh, “I apologize Kaveh, I don’t have the energy needed for this kind of discussion today.”

Oh? Well he could understand that, it was getting to be later in the day, he’d been considering either returning home or heading out to eat.

“A rational conclusion to marry is okay in the presence of subtle attraction,” was the verdict he received.

How astonishing. He’d have expected more weight to be attributed towards emotion. After all sat before him was none other than-ah no he knew better than to use that insulting moniker.

Still he’d expected this scholar to share in his opinion. To stress the importance of love in establishing a relationship. It was strange that the opinion presented was closer to that of Al-Haitham’s. He’d never have expected it.

The well dressed artist blinked himself back into reality when a fancy looking envelope appeared in his peripheral.

“I’d originally intended to give this to you and leave you in peace,” Kaveh found himself receiving a sheepish smile, “however your discussion about the recovered architectural techniques pre-dating the archon war was enthralling! I really enjoyed it! Thank you for telling me about it!” 

The Light of Kshahrewar himself, warmed up at the appreciation expressed. With a final farewell he was left to his own devices.

Naturally his first instinct was to open the envelope. Such fancy stock, was this perhaps a confession? While the feelings wouldn’t exactly be mutual…the architect wouldn’t deny him entertaining the thought of such a relationship following a confession. Besides he could never blame anyone who found him attractive, he- 

“You are Cordially Invited to Attend the Wedding of Al-Haitham and-”

He pushed the card back down, closing the flap of the envelope. Closing his eyes and shaking his head he pulled out the card yet again…

“You are Cordially Invited to Attend the Wedding of Al-Haitham and-”

He once again put the invite into its envelope and closed the flap.

It was a wonder his eyeballs didn’t fall out of their sockets.

The mystery lady, the poor pitiful girl, his target for rescue…

Of all people… 

Al-Haitham was marrying YOU?!

#alhaitham #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin x y/n #genshin imagines #genshin impact fanfics

[skbeaumont]

Texas Heat | Joel x Reader

Chapter 2: Same time next week?

Series masterlist Chapter 1 here

Chp. 2 summary: Your first tutoring session with Sarah goes as expected, until Joel gets home and sends your head spinning. Rating: Teen (for now) Tags/Warnings: flirting, sexual tension, age difference (reader is 25, Joel is 37), AU no outbreak Word Count: 2.4k A/N: Blown away by the response to my posts so far, thank you all so much! This story will be updated every Friday unless otherwise specified. Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for this and others.

Taglist: @mysterialee

The next couple of days pass by in a flurry of jetlag. The Adlers are nice: Easy to get on with, friendly but not in a way that makes you feel like you’re living on top of them. Connie’s cooking is good, if a little repetitive, and Danny is sweet and makes you laugh, telling you stories about his youth living in Austin. Nana doesn’t speak, but she has your mum’s eyes, and you spend the evenings sitting by her in the living room, reading the stack of novels you brought with you, enjoying the easy company and warm sunlight.

You see Joel outside through the window one early morning, casually ask Connie about him as you watch him load toolboxes and ladders into the bed of his truck. One kid, Sarah, a brother who lives with him, most of the time, no wife. This last shouldn’t send a spike of something like excitement down the back of your spine, but it does. You’d just assumed he was married when he’d told you about Sarah – no wedding ring, but working in construction, that made sense.

The knowledge that there isn’t a Mrs Miller makes you re-evaluate the car journey back from the airport, the way he’d let his arm rest along the back of your seat, that teasing, mischievous glint in his eye as he’d said goodbye, promising to take you up on your offer of maths lessons for Sarah. Those thoughts keep you up late that night, pressing your thighs together beneath the thin cotton top sheet in the Adler’s guest room.

Early Sunday evening you bump into Sarah in the driveway when you get back from Walmart, equipped with a new US sim card for your mobile. She’s sweet, even prettier in real life than in the photo you saw, not at all shy like you were when you were her age.

“Dad said you’re good at math,” she says without preamble, appearing from the side of Joel’s truck, looking at you with a sideways expression that’s a mix of consideration and incredulity.

“Pretty good, yeah.” You reply, stomach jolting at the thought of Joel talking about you, even if it’s to say something as benign as how talented you are at maths. “I’d be happy to help you out with homework, or whatever, if you want. I promise I’ll try not to make it too boring.”

Sarah smiles at this, the incredulity in her face morphing into approval, or as close to approval a thirteen year old can manage.

“You coming, Sarah?” Joel says, stepping out of the front door, head down as he examines something on the phone he’s holding. “Oh,” he says, looking up and seeing you, “hey.”

“Hi.”

He’s dressed the same as he was when he picked you up from the airport; dark t-shirt over faded jeans, the knees a little worn, but he’s wearing a baseball cap today, pulling his messy curls back from his forehead. You feel a blush inching up your neck as he so obviously tries to avoid checking you out in the tiny shorts you pulled on that morning.

“How are you settling in?” He asks, moving to stand next to Sarah by the truck.

He crosses his arms against his chest and the movement draws your eyes to his biceps, struggling against the tight sleeves of his tee. There’s a thin slither of a tan line just above where his shirt naturally falls, paler skin peeking out. It makes your head swim.

You clear you throat, refocus your eyes on his face.

“Good, I think. It’s a big change, but it’s nice. Hot, though.”

“Texan summers.” He replies, “Take a bit of getting used to if you ain’t suffered through one before.”

“I’ll say.”

“Sarah’s keen on those lessons, by the way.” He puts a hand on the girl’s shoulder, shakes her about so that she giggles. “Here,” He pulls out his mobile. “You got a US number yet?”

“Just picked up a new sim, actually” You pull your own mobile out, read off your number to him so that he can put it into his phone.

“I’ll text you later on,” He says, “we’re just heading out now.”

You say your goodbyes and leave the sweltering heat of the driveway, listening to Joel’s truck start up and pull off. Inside, Mercy greets you, rests her head on your knee as you collapse onto the sofa, clutching your mobile to your chest.

True to his word, Joel texts later that evening as you’re getting ready for bed.

Glad ur settling in ok. Would Tuesday work for math with Sarah? She gets back from school around 4. Joel.

You type out several draft replies before finally sending one that matches his straight-to-the-point tone.

Thanks. Tuesday works for me. See you then.

His response doesn’t arrive until the next morning, and when it does, your stomach sinks.

Sounds great. Will just be Sarah though, I’m working late Tuesday.

It’s almost embarrassing how disappointed you are by those last four words. In your head, it had been you, Sarah and Joel around their kitchen table, Joel’s toned forearms resting on warped wood, his deep chuckle in your ear as you worked through maths problems with Sarah. This makes you feel guilty, of course, because the whole point of this exercise is helping Sarah with her maths homework, not flirting with her father.

You fall back against the pillows of your bed. Around you, the room is already starting to feel a little like home. All of your toiletries are stacked up on the dressing table, and you’ve put your clothes away into the generous walk-in closet. Your books are scattered about the room, a few on the bedside table, another pile of them next to the full length mirror. The bed sheets are cool when you slip beneath them, bare legs sliding against soft cotton.

You stare at the green-grey light of your Nokia, looking at the last text from Joel, wondering if you should reply or just leave it. Best to play it cool, you decide, but restraint’s never been your strong suit and before you can stop yourself you’re typing out a reply, hitting the send button and grinning into the pillowcase.

That’s a shame. I was looking forward to testing your addition skills.

He doesn’t reply.

*****

Tuesday rolls around, bringing unrelenting sun and a dry heat that keeps you indoors most of the day. You help Connie rearrange her DVDs – an impressive collection – and take Nana out onto the porch in the early afternoon, waiting for Sarah to get home from school.

It’s just before four when she appears at the end of the cul-de-sac, hair bouncing around her shoulders as she makes her way towards you. She’s got her school bag slung over one shoulder, jeans rolled up at the ankles, a pair of scruffy Nikes on her feet. 

“Hi, Nana, Connie,” she calls as she approaches the porch, gaze turning to you, “math whizz,” she finishes, grinning.

“Hi yourself,” you return, pushing yourself out of the deckchair, brushing crumbs off of your bare legs. You say a quick bye to the Adlers and follow Sarah up her own driveway and into the cool, still air of the Miller’s kitchen.

It’s a little disorderly: there are pots scattered on the kitchen sides, and a menagerie of clutter on the table which sits under a window, bright afternoon sunlight streaming in. Sarah dumps her school bag on this, pushes a notepad, two tape measures and a pair of mugs out of the way so that you can sit beside her.

“Okay,” she says, drawing out an exercise book and placing it in front of her, “before we get into this I need you to understand that math is my weakest subject.”

“Right,” You say, watching her serious expression as she pushes the book across the table towards you, “understood.”

“And you need to promise me you won’t judge me based solely on my algebra skills, or lack of them.”

This makes you laugh, a chuckle bubbling up out of your throat. Sarah holds your gaze, her face still serious.

“Sorry,” you say, “I mean to say, I would never judge anyone based on their maths skills.”

Sarah’s face breaks into a grin. “I’m just messing with you.” She says, laughing at the look on your face. “I am pretty bad at algebra, though.”

She’s not. You work through a dozen or so exercises, helping her when she gets stuck, showing her where she’s going wrong, but she’s actually fairly good at the calculations once you’ve explained it to her a couple of times. The afternoon goes by quickly. After two hours or so Sarah stretches in her chair, yawning.  

“You wanna stay for dinner?” She asks, pushing the exercise book away from her. “It’s just leftover chicken casserole, but there’s enough if you want some.”

“Oh, uh, sure.”

You sit by as she reheats the casserole, refusing your offers of help. Instead, you look around the rest of the room, searching out little hints of Joel that are tucked about: A pair of worn leather sandals by the back door, two plaid shirts hanging on the back of the door to the living room, a battered, dog-eared copy of a drill instruction manual, well-read and ringed with coffee stains.

It’s comfortingly domestic, and it makes your chest ache a little, thinking of your mum back home in London, all the friends and familiarity you left behind. Then Sarah’s placing a hot plate of casserole in front of you, joking about the fact that you don’t look very much like a mathematician, by which she means you don’t resemble Albert Einstein.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You tell her, and she smiles.

“You should. You’re much prettier than he was.”

You help Sarah do the dishes, stacking them neatly on the side to be put away later. After, Sarah asks if you want to stay and watch a movie, and you both spread yourselves out on the sofa in the Miller’s living room, flick on the television and watch Tim Allen and Sigourney Weaver mess about in outer space.

Sarah falls asleep before the film ends, even though the sun hasn’t fully set and its barely ten. You’re debating waking her when there’s a rattling from the kitchen and the sound of the front door creaking open. Joel.

You hear him clear his throat, scrape his boots on the door mat and then his deep voice is cutting through the silence of the house. “Sarah? You still up, baby?”

Sarah shifts where she’s asleep next to you but doesn’t stir. You push yourself off the sofa, step into the kitchen. Joel’s pulling off a toolbelt from around his waist, thick fingers unbuckling the clasp in a way that makes your heart rate jump up.

“Hey,” You say, leaning against the doorframe.

He jumps, his eyes shooting up to you before recognition softens his gaze.

“Hi,” He replies, finally working the toolbelt off and letting it drop onto the worktop beside him, “I didn’t expect you to still be here. Everything alright?”

“Oh, yeah, fine. Sarah made me dinner and we watched a movie. Well, she fell asleep.”

Joel chuckles at this, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, she has a habit of doin’ that.”

“Work okay?” You ask, thinking you should probably leave him to a restful evening, not wanting to at all.

“Long,” He says, rubbing at the coarse stubble on the side of his jaw. “How did math go?”

“Good. She’s bright, just needed a little bit of guidance with it.”

“Always been switched on. Dunno where she gets it from.” He steps around the kitchen island, rolling his jacket down off of his shoulders as he goes, narrow hips winding around the island and the fridge toward you.

He pulls a ten dollar note out of his back pocket, hands it to you between two thick, calloused fingers. “For the lesson,” He says.

“You don’t have to, Joel, honestly.”

“S’only fair, darlin’” He proffers the note again and you take it, trying not to think about the way that casual darlin’ has gone straight to your head, blood rushing to your cheeks so that they feel like they’re on fire.

“She in there?” Joel asks then, nodding behind you to the lounge. “Oh, yeah,” You turn, let Joel look past you into the darkness of the living room, where Sarah is spread out on the sofa, breathing deeply, eyes flickering in the dull light from the paused DVD. 

As he leans into the room he steps toward you, the movement bringing him distractingly close, making you notice how much taller he is than you, how much broader. The t-shirt he’s wearing is stretched almost painfully across his shoulders, wear showing in the stressed seams. The patchy stubble at his jaw is longer than it was a few days ago, covering the sharpness of his jaw, the strong lines of his throat.

He looks away from Sarah’s form on the sofa then, his dark eyes flicking over your face, catching you watching him. You feel a blush creeping along your neck and up to your cheeks, and try to look away, but he’s holding your gaze, pupils wide in the dim light. Then his eyes dip down to your lips, follow the slight movement of your tongue as it worries at the edge of your mouth.

You can feel heat rolling off of him in waves and you wonder how it would be to push yourself up onto tip-toes and kiss the corner of his plush lower lip. This close, you can see the thin creases that line his eyes, the beginnings of grey in his dark eyebrows, raised slightly and pinching in the middle as he looks at you.

Your head is tilted up, your breath mingling in the dizzyingly narrow space between you. He clears his throat. You both realise, quite suddenly, how close you’re standing. Before you can say anything he’s moving back, tension breaking as he takes the white-hot heat of his body with him, leaving you flushed and dizzy.

“I should get Sarah to bed.” He says into the silence.

There’s a flush in his tanned face, painting his cheeks a deep red-brown, evidence that you aren’t alone in your distraction, in the surge of arousal that seems to be lighting you up from the inside. He runs a hand through already dishevelled hair.

“Right,” you reply, hoping he can’t hear the quaver in your throat, “I should head home.”

Outside, you rest for a moment against the wall next to the Adler’s front door.

Your heart is still thumping in your chest, each beat a reminder of the look in Joel’s eyes as he towered over you, his breath hot on your face, pupils blown wide because of the darkness, or maybe something else.

Before you get inside, your phone buzzes. The text is from Joel.

Same time next week?

You grin at the screen.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller au #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #AU!no outbreak

[itonashi]

YOU are YOU

SUMMARY : Known around the world — a genius scientist named [Name][Last Name]. Everyone sought to be her as she was deemed perfect. A young prodigy that managed to climb up the ranks alongside her friends. She met her demise at the age of 35. It shook the world. Tears fall because of her. Will there be another her?

PAIRING : aquamarine hoshino x fem!reader

WARNINGS : implied deaths, stalking, drugs, slow burn romance, more will be added.

A/N : finished chp 1! even though i was in misery because of hsr. it's okay hehe. haha. i want gepard so bad. chp 1 is kind short even though it's like 1.4k words lol. i hope you love it my staggie ! (my followers name is staggie)

"Goro, don't you miss me?"

"Why should I?" Goro glance at you with eyes that could be interpret as 'in love'. Despite his replies to you, he knew that he misses you deeply. You changed him. Your existence gave hope to him.

Before knowing the world of idols and drowning himself in work as a doctor, you were the reason he kept on living. It was like a miracle. Meeting you on his last year of middle school, someone that's 2 years older than him. He never thought he was the guy to like older women.

Your hair that flow along the wind breeze of the countryside fresh air. The usual spot of your meeting place, the hospital rooftop. "Look at you being snarky..." You make a shock face. "Don't you have work to do?" He questioned the free time you have been having these days. You have too much free time for a genius scientist that's known around the world. A prominent figure in the science world that will go through history.

One of the people who had change the world through technology. Despite being a figure in the science world, you too have made it in the entertainment industry. Just what were you doing? Trying to live nine lives? You had appear in model shoot, even become a brand's ambassador. "You really are carefree.." He added with a slight chuckle and fix his glasses. You tilt your head "Well... I'm still young after all! A young woman have to make the best of her life." You gave an eyes closed smile.

He crosses his arms together and sigh "Whatever makes you happy [Nickname]." You lightly laugh and look towards the night sky. He stare at your figure. Even when you're only standing, he could feel the aura you let out. The strong aura that just screams 'Hey! I'm an important person in this industry.' He could never compare to you.

You went close to the railing and face him — leaning onto the railing. "Gorou, do I shine like a star right now?" He widen his eyes at the sudden change of atmosphere. The words didn't come out of his mouth, instead he probably look like a gapping fish. How could he forget how your eyes look like?

It was your eyes that made him attracted to you. It shine like the stars. Your eyes twinkle and had actual stars in it. Everyone agreed that the unique things about you is your eyes. They said that your eyes were like the stars dancing around the ocean waves.

"You do shine. You shine more than other people." He responded to your question with a smile. He wish that this moment last forever but the world isn't fair.

If only he could go back to this moment and make you stay this time. Would you and him become a family? Would the smile you always hold be in his mind forever? Can he still see your smile even after death?

Even after two years of your passing, he still hasn't move on from you. Your smile was engraved in his mind. The lovely smile you had. It will always be in his heart — like you always said to him "Well, I have always been in your heart." With the little laugh you did. Your soothing voice will always be his favorite.

They will never be another you because YOU are YOU. The world will always remember you. His genius scientist.

It breaks his heart how you have mentioned about a teen girl named AI Hoshino. The girl he would help to deliver her babies. He never thought he would ever met his patient's favorite idol. He never thought he would ever met the random teen girl he has heard about from you. 

Oh right, he haven't read the letter that was given to him the day of your funeral from one of your friends. He didn't read it yet because the condition was to read it after 3 years. Were you playing with him? It has been 2 years now... Only one year left.

Funny story, he didn't have the chances to read your letter because well he's dead! Duh!

'It has been two years that I have been in this body' You frown. I guess, you're finally accustomed with this body of yours. [Name] Yoshino, that was your name in this new body, new life. Such a coincidence that you will still be using the same name as your previous life.

Reincarnation? It was such a bizarre things to happened to you. You don't believe in it but she does. How are all off your friends doing? You can only see them on the TV but it was rare to do so. In your past life, you were a genius scientist that was in a world organization. Each of your friends are from another country. They were the people that managed to top the world alongside with you.

Only some of your friends appears in the TV as half of them prefer to work behind the scenes. Well, you hope they're doing fine even after your death. Did they read the letters yet? Did Goro read the letter yet?

How is the love of your life doing? Did he move on? Did he finally have a family? How sad. If only... You weren't killed two years ago.

What's this weird feeling in your stomach? Why do you feel like something bad is going to happen? You need to keep your guard up. You walked faster and stay clear from the crowd. It was night time.

'This is bad. Something is going to happen.' You furrowed your eyebrows in frustration. You felt sick but you can't drop your guard even in the slightest. Being a prominent figure means you're prone to assassination attempt. After all, you have always been unlucky in situations.

You have steered away from the crowd. A quiet place that's still within the city of Tokyo. A woman cannot be alone, you learned that the hard way but you felt like this time you need to be alone. Is it a feeling of death? Is someone watching you?

You saw a tiny flash and glanced towards it. "A sniper... He must've known I noticed him now..." You muttered under your breath. You took a deep breath. 'I can't avoid this anymore. I'm sorry, my little brother. I'm sorry, Goro. I'm sorry to everyone that I have lied too. I was always dirty but I will forever be thankful to him for saving me. Even in my death, I want to smile for everyone. After all, I just love these people the most. Will there be a person to avenge me?' You smiled towards the sniper and mouthed 'Do your best. I have done enough in this world, probably.'

Bang!

Blood splattered everywhere. A shot on the head is bound to be messy. The sniper gritted his teeth. 'I love you' was the last words you mouthed the moment you were shot on the head. The bloods on your clothes, hair, floor. Everything is messy. The messy life you have been living as a genius scientist. Do you actually want to live as a genius again? You can't keep lying to yourself.

You remembered your last moments very clearly. It can't never be erase from your memories. The date of your death. The time of your death. The place of your death. You can never forget about it.

Will you be lucky in this new life?

Or

Will you be miserable again?

You shake of the negative thoughts. At least you have parents in this life but they're weird, in your opinion. Well, who knows what will happen in the future. You're not some kind of god. Just a genius. A 'lucky genius' that's what they call you in your past life but no one knew of your past except for your uncle. Your past life's uncle. The man who took care of you after the death of your parents. Where is he now?

"[Name]! There you are!" Oh, it's your mom. Akemi Yoshino, the woman who hold you for nine months. She's a beauty to say the least. She held you in her arms and kiss your cheek. You make a gibberish sounds to pretend. Your father, Kazuo Yoshino watch by the sidelines and only smiled. What a weirdo. Either way, you don't know if you will get close with your own father.

Your mother was a actress that quit due to being pregnant. Was she popular? Kinda. She have made an appearance in a commercial ad. Your father is a film director that's famous. Means, you came from a rich family now. Not that you weren't rich in your past life. To be born into a family on the entertainment industry is a stress though.

Expectations will come for you.

TAGLISTS : @glitch-karma @kult-o @miyakoa (if you ever change your use pls inform. i couldn't tag some of you.)

[NEXT] [PREV] [SERIES LIST]

itonashi © // don't plagiarize, copy or edit my works.

#oshi no ko x reader #oshi no ko #aqua hoshino x reader #aquamarine hoshino #aquamarine hoshino x reader #aqua hoshino #ruby hoshino #kana arima #akane kurokawa #hoshino ai #ai hoshino #itomlist!!✧ #itoworks!!✧

[itstheghostofmypast]

Meow (Chp-3)

Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: He had spent an entire millennia in solitude, waiting for her to come back to him, bearing this curse that was a constant reminder of his ignorance, his mistake, and his guilt. He had forgotten how fate had always been cruel to him, punishing him for all he had done, and so be it, meeting her in the 21st century should have brought him joy- there was only one problem, his love for her may not have decreased a drop, but she may love Poofy more than she ever loved him.

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 4.3k

Est Read Time: 21 min

Warnings: death of a major character, war, PTSD.

Rating: nc-17

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Masterlist I Chp-2

"Bullshit"

Sighing for the nineteenth time, Wooyoung growled, glancing at Jongho who just shook his head letting out a dry chuckle, walking "Stubborn as ever."

"You really think I’d buy this crap?" Yunho sat up, rubbing the back of his neck, "Where the heck is he anyway? You guys give me poofy- I  MEAN SAN and I'll let you all go."

"It's almost time." Wooyoung sighed, staring out the penthouse window, watching the sun sink over the horizon, its streaks of orange slowly fading, "Yunho, you may not believe us, but you need to understand that San doesn't mean to harm her. He didn't back then as well." Yunho stood up, walking over to the glass wall, amazed at the view, how exactly did a few hooligans like them afford a penthouse in one of the most expensive places in the city?

"How do you even afford this place" he turned to look at Wooyoung, though he saw nothing in his eye view, "Wooyoung?"

A little chirp caught his ears, eyes flickering down to spot a red fox staring up at him, its fluffy tail swishing side to side at the back, "What the -"

"He's growing weaker." Jongho interrupted him, walking into the room, Yunho turned to look at Jongho who threw something at him.

His muscle memory reacting, with quick reflexes he caught the item, before opening his palm and staring at the keys, the keychain in particular, the golden retriever shining in all its glory. A gift, more like his graduation gift, he remembers when she gave it to him, once he graduated from the police academy.

“Lock the door on your way out, I’m going to my room”, Jongho mumbled, eying the way he had been standing there, staring at the keychain, he could smell traces of her on him, hell, all of them could smell her scent on him, and even if Seonghwa was not going to admit it out loud, all of them could see why San had decided to trigger her memories without consulting with them first. He was scared, and unlike last time, he was not going to risk losing her, not again, but this rashness would bring nothing but the worst, and as much as Jongho loved his brother, he knew the others, nor him, could physically or mentally endure for any longer, and knowing San had been using magic almost every night just meant his condition was worse than theirs combined, which would explain the man’s calm behaviour when Yunho had socked him in the face- it wasn’t guilt the only factor that had forced him to accept the beating, but his depleting health as well.

“Wait!” Yunho called down, speeding walking after the man who went down the corridor, finally stopping at the door at the end of the hallway, he was about to close the door when Yunho stopped him with his foot, “Finish, the story, what happened next, I-

“I don’t have enough time Yunho, I- I don’t want you to see me like this… you need to remember, just think, it’ll come to you…hopefully.” With that, he closed the door before Yunho could even ask what he even meant by that, he was about to knock on the wood until he heard a low animalist growl, a cry if you could call it. Something at the back of his mind nagged him to open the door, to see what was on the other side, and perhaps he would have, but when he heard his phone’s ringtone, his body went on auto, moving towards the sound. Luckily he had found it at the console table, next to a sticky note and coupon, picking up the coupon he looked at the deal, ‘buy one kitty-kat cupcake  and get a beverage of your choice for free’, he stared at the neon sticky note, the knot in his stomach tightening at the feeling of unease settling in,

‘A thank you gift, for letting Sannie go. PS- really missed you, Yuyu – Love Woo.’

.

“Where have you been?” Mingi asked, not looking away from his phone, “Captain almost lost a kidney when he found out you took a sick leave.”

Sighing as he got into the elevator the taller man glanced at his friend before shaking his head, “Yeah, I felt…under the weather.” He said before walking out onto their floor, Mingi followed after, noticing how Hongjoong’s door was closed, he must be having a meeting. He sat down at his desk, right across Yunho’s, usually his friend would be radiating the same energy as a golden retriever, hence the nickname, and the uncanny keychain of his, but tonight he just looked a bit too glum. Clearing his throat he eyed the man, who was busy cleaning out his desk drawer, slamming file upon file on the table.

“You okay there, buddy?” he asked, turning on his monitor, though his eyes never left the brunette’s mumbling form.

“No, Mingi, because I just realized I’m in love.” He sighed, stopping his little sissy fit as he looked at Mingi, who looked like he was about to implode at the revelation.

“What?”

“Never mind.” Huffing he got up, pulling on his jacket, “Don’t tell the captain I came, although knowing him he’s already seen me, if he asks, tell him I have diarrhea or something.” With that he walked away, not even waiting for Mingi when he pressed the elevator button, instead choosing to go down the emergency staircase, it was all getting a bit too loud, his thoughts, the people, the constant ringing of the phone, to top it all off, he had realized how he had not received a single text from her all day, not even a reply to his good morning, so what exactly was he chasing after- when did this become a chase anyway? Were they not just friends, best friends at max?

 Slamming the car door shut he sighed, leaning back against the headrest, Yunho was not one to lose composure, in fact, he rarely lost his cool, but the thought of her- this pestering lingering thought of losing her was bothering him, on top of that today’s events had begun to haunt him, he had seen and gone through hell today; first, he encountered a naked man in her apartment, then he took said man to his place of work which was filled with creeps he called his brothers, a man spoke in his head, he got flung across the room by another man and finally he witnessed someone morph into an animal- the worst part of the situation was that no one was ever going to believe him. Not even her, in fact, she would just laugh at him and how on a normal day he would love to hear the sound of that, he would not appreciate it being directed at him when he was so overstimulated by his feelings and the situation at hand. Picking up his phone he stared at the time, 8.09 pm, she should’ve been home by now, yet, he had received not a text from her, nothing at all. What if something had happened to her? What if that man had done something to her? But they did keep on saying how they never wanted to hurt her, especially the man, San, he was persistent that his intentions with her were pure and- Officer Jeong, since when did we pay mind to emotions over rationality?

He was almost about to go into cop mode until his phone tinged, a familiar tune – a special tune- he had set only for her. Pulling out his phone he stared at the notification, tapping the screen for the message to open,

“Heyy, sorry I was busy today. How was your day? Mine was shit- I want a whole year off. We should definitely go on a vacation- like somewhere warm? Tropical? Though it should be somewhere we can take Poofy, I’d like my beloved boys to get along. Speaking of getting along, my poor baby has a swollen eye, idk, who hit him, or maybe it was another cat? Anyway, enough about us. I hope Gotham is a bit safer tonight thanks to you my knock-off Batman. Again, I’m sorry I couldn’t reply today. Stay safe, Yuyu.”

Sighing he locked the screen and tossed the phone to the passenger seat, of course, she’d apologise to him, of course, she’d take the blame and beat around the bush, of course, she’d make his heart clench, but what was worse that he may have not been losing his mind. Poofy and swollen eye, memories of today flashing before his eyes, how he had punched Poofy, knowing very well the man would have a black eye. Moreover, she had called him Yuyu, she was the only one to ever call him that, yet tonight, someone else had called him that too, the fox guy, and not once did he ever mention his name to anyone there, especially not his nickname. So, the real question is, if it were true, and the whole past life scenario was true then why couldn't he remember? Why couldn't she remember? He kept jumping from one train of thought to another, no longer driving home but to the only place that made him feel safe, he didn't care what time it was, or the gravity of the information that was brought down upon him today.

He wasn't even sure when he had reached the door, until his knuckles knocked on the wood, echoing in the quiet of the night. He knew everyone was asleep, he knew it was late, he knew she was asleep, but he couldn't wait, he couldn't think straight when something at the back of his mind kept bothering him, the question he was too afraid to find the answer of; am I... going to lose her in this life too?

The persistent knocking didn't stop until the door swung open, revealing a tired, dishevelled woman, staring up at him through sleep-deprived eyes, her bedhead hair just adding to her appeal, suddenly the dread that had been simmering within him began to settle down, replaced by a wave of admiration, wanting nothing more than to be surrounded by her.

“May I come in?” he whispered, watching her glare at him.

“It's midnight.”

The statement meant nothing, it held no malice or anger and wasn’t even a warning, but for him, he knew what it meant, she was upset and she wanted him to know, of course she was, he never responded to her goodnight note, for which he knew he was going to pay later, but perhaps he wanted to hear her yell at him too, just till it lasts.

“I know, I’m sorry…I- I’ll make us my midnight special dish?”

Reluctantly, she moved to let him in, locking the door once he was inside, sighing when he strolled inside like he owned the place, technically he did, he was often found here, if not at the precinct, which would explain why her neighbours assumed the two had something going on, until she had clarified to the old lady next door that the two were in fact just very good friends, though she chose not to truly believe her.

“Wake me up once your apology is ready.” Mumbling she stomped into her room, earning a sigh from him, as she slammed the door shut. Poofy snapped awake, his head snapping in every direction, eyes wide and glowing in the dark, looking for her, how did he not notice her leave? Were his senses getting duller or was he getting weaker? Was this because of the overuse of his powers or because he was injured? Truth be told he hadn’t even seen Yunho when he pounced on him, after deflecting the knife he almost lost all focus, the fatigue getting too much- that would explain how Yunho had found him in the first place. He had slipped away before she woke up,  

“It’s okay baby, I’m here.” She whispered, fingers brushing over his fur causing him to purr, muzzling into her palm as she chuckled, leaning closer to peck the top of his head, scrunching her nose at the scent, “Did I give you a bath with my shampoo last time? You smell like my shampoo- damn I should be more careful, sorry baby.” Snuggling deeper inside her blanket she pulled him closer like a teddy bear, he let her do as she pleased, enjoying the attention. Truth be told he smelt like her shampoo because that’s what he used, Jongho had told him to change it but he didn’t follow, he wanted to be enveloped by her scent all the time, it helped calm down his nerves, relaxed him and considering how he was always on edge, he really needed the stimulant.

Yunho sighed, ripping open a packet of instant ramen, and placing it aside, watching the water boil. He had chopped all the vegetables and even fried the chicken tenders for her, sliced them up nicely to decorate her bowl later. They had invented this dish back in their fun days at college, way before Poofy had entered their lives, when he had her undivided attention and affection, though who was he to hold her accountable for playing with his feelings when it was him who had led her own then let go of her whenever things got a bit too serious for him, to afraid to ruin their friendship.

“And now you place the tenders like this,” she smiled in triumph, garnishing his bowl and hers, before coming over to the small table and placing the tray down. He sat there legs crossed on the heated floor, looking at her in the small open kitchen, smiling at the thought of what their domestic lives would comprise together. Turning back to stare at the table in front of him, she had called him over to her dorm at 2 am, their child psychology exam waiting for them at 7 am, yet, he was here, ready for a late-night snack with her, one she had just invented instead of studying.

“Hmm?”  he looked down at the bowl she placed in front of him, smiling at how he had received the bigger one. ‘A big serving for the lanky growing boy.’ She’d always say, much to his pleasure.

“I’m telling you, once we have this and go to sleep, tomorrow will go great.”

“Oh?” he cocked a brow, before reaching for her glass, pouring her some soda, “Because we’ll remember everything for the exam?”

“Nah girl, that we might fail tomorrow, but we’ll have our tummies full of yummy food.” With that she began eating not even looking up at him when he choked on his spit, laughing louder than anyone would want at 2 am, sure, leave it up to Jeong Yunho to get you kicked out of the girl’s dorms for laughing too loud.

Indeed, the two did fail the exam the next morning, but the memories they had created were far better than any result.

 Poofy was almost asleep, blinking slowly at her drowsy form, until they heard a pot fall in the kitchen, followed by a masculine apology- shit, who was that. He didn’t even wait for her to answer and ran out at full speed, making a sharp turn to the kitchen, bouncing off the wall, ready to pounce on the intruder, he couldn’t transform into his beast form, especially since that day, he couldn’t even morph back into a human till sunrise, but that wasn’t going to scare him. With a hiss the cat pounced into the kitchen, landing on the tiles right in front of the intruder- Yunho?

Yunho’s ears caught the bell chiming across the hall, he could hear the quick padding of the cat’s soft paws, and he prayed to God that it was just a normal cat and not who he feared, but once again fate was not on his side, for as soon as his eyes landed on the cat’s swollen eye, he knew for a fact this was his doing. Sighing he placed a bowl of milk in front of the cat, who looked at it then Yunho, only to smack it away and hiss at him.

“Look, I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you last time buddy, but, I- I can’t just- I need some time okay?” he sighed before picking up the tray of food, turning to walking out the door but the cat stopped him, standing in front of him growling.

“You don’t understand San, I can’t let her go…I love her.” With that he walked over the frozen cat, who was staring blankly at nothing, too stunned by his words to even process what was happening, the only thing that had brought him back to reality was the sounds of her muffled laughter, causing him to turn and look down the hallway, noticing how her bedroom door was closed- she never closed the door, it was always left ajar so he could come and go as he pleased, yet here he was staring at her door with blurry eyes, feeling more nauseous than he did that day.

.

Yunho walked towards the main door, glancing at the ball of fur curled up on the far end of the couch, sighing to himself, a part of him telling him what he was doing was perfectly fine, he had no reason to believe or help out these people, but something deep down begged at him to stop, to not give into his ways and listen to the good that resided with him. With one more glance he closed the door, leaving both sleeping parties alone in the cold of the apartment, while he had tucked her in, he left the cat there, cold as ever, leaving at the early hours of the day.

His ear turned to the door once it closed, sitting up he stared at the turned-off TV, staring at his feline reflection, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath once he heard the subtle chirping of the birds from outside, waiting for the curse to lift, welcoming the gentle, warm light of the sun. At one point in his life, he loved the night, the way the stars would shine above him, watching him perform his duty wholeheartedly, keeping the valley safe and quiet. Moreover, he loved how the moon had witnessed the first time he declared his love for her, the moon had witnessed when she had shied away from the kiss, coyly mumbling how they were not wed, thus they could not perform such an act of intimacy. The moon had watched her favourite soldier proudly, watching him with great intent as he held himself back, trying not to fall onto his knees in front of her, to cry in joy at her innocence and pure heart, he truly wondered what he had done to deserve to call someone like her his own.

Unfortunately, as much as the moon had witnessed her favourite being an exemplary creature, she had also been there to bear the sight of her favourite turning into a beast, of him letting envy wrap him in her green cloak, watching him push away the one he claimed to love, the one who had given him her everything, body and soul, yet, the moon still gave him time to make amends, to try to heal the wounds he had caused, much to her displeasure, he had not, both pride and envy being his companions, letting him destroy the plan destiny had laid down for him, leading to an eventual demise of everything and everyone he had loved, holding onto her limp form as she stared up at him with a broken resolve, too afraid to ask for anything, too afraid to beg him, but not afraid of death that was awaiting her, even though he begged her to stay. The moon had witnessed how he broke down over her, watching how even after what he had done, she had saved him once more, only this time, it had cost her life, proving to the stars that their choice of candidate was not wrong, and it was not a human characteristic to deceive or lie, but a trait brought with pure love, one that he had felt for her, but accepted the little green dot that begun to spread upon the canvas of his heart. The moon had watched him cling onto her lifeless form before he lost all control, his brothers lost all control and did the one thing a guardian is not supposed to do, ‘harm a human’, for the moon had witnessed these fools let their emotions take over, watching them disobey her and end the fleets sent to fight them, watching them tear them down, her final straw perhaps was when her exemplary soldier’s claw’s dig into the neck of the emperor, his teeth bearing the blood of his four sons the beast had ripped apart before his eyes, eyes as black as the moonless sky, resembling the hole that lay in his chest, a cavity which was once occupied by his warm, romantic heart. The moon watched him snarl out in disgust, one last question before the head of the emperor was flung across the royal hall, his body falling limp on the ground,

‘Do you still think your daughter’s life was worth nothing?”

That was all it took for the moon to take back her blessing, perhaps the stars were on the same page, angered by this act of blasphemy, turning what was once a blessing into a curse, one that would shackle them down, bringing their egos and pride to its knees, watching them slowly succumb to their end, until they had not only made amends but had repented to fate itself, earning her favour.

He stared at the reflection, sighing as his feet pressed against the soft carpet, glad that the moon was no longer out to taunt him and mock him, but she was replaced by her brother, showing him some form of mercy for a few hours. He made his way to her bedroom, San stared at her, watching her sleep in bliss, her steady breathing almost lulling him to sleep as well, welcoming him. It had been so long since he had held her in his arms since he had laid next to her, felt her close to him- not like a feline, but all his manly glory. What if he just slipped in for a minute or two? Would she notice? Would she wake up?

Standing above her, he leaned closer, his knuckles caressing her warm cheek, watching as she nuzzled into her pillow, mumbling something about Poofy- ah yes, she still loved Poofy, this was another issue, only Yunho being in love with her just added more to his plate. How was he going to handle all of this? At this point, he knew that time was not on his side and even though he would willingly succumb to death, if it meant that she would remain happy and safe, even if it were with Yunho, he could not let his brothers suffer because of him- how were his actions justifiable, if they had partaken in the war, it was only because they had lost their brothers as well, which was only caused by the ripple effect of San’s own action’s, his prejudice and disdain. Leaning closer he pressed his lips to her forehead, whispering the usual spell, making sure the enchantment was well recited to keep her safe and out of harm’s way.

“How I wish I could hold you once more, my love.” He whispered, before pulling back and going across the room to open the window, staring up at the pastel colours of the sunrise, taking a deep breath he turned to glance at her one last time, “I beg you, do not forget me, for as much as I am in pain right now, the thought of my memories leaving your essence will rip me apart worse than death could possibly intend to, even at his peak.” With that he hopped out onto the emergency staircase, slowly making his way downstairs as he thought about doing that one thing he did not do the last time he was in trouble, ‘ask his brothers for help’.

.

Bonus:

‘In love?’ Seonghwa mumbled, staring at his phone, still trying to understand why Wooyoung was digitally poking him through this application. Yeosang hummed in agreement, still trying to understand what San had said, narrating the events of the previous night, this was worse than the mage could imagine, the time of the course now had to be altered, perhaps increased in terms of pace.

“Aww Sannie, don’t worry I’m sure Yuyu is just confused.” Wooyoung pouted, wrapping his arm around the taller man’s shoulders, trying to help him out, only noticing how his shoulders slumped even more at the mention of Yunho’s name, “I mean, he…this isn’t the same Yunho, he still has to come to terms with it and- I bet as soon as we revive the old Yunho he’ll come to his senses.”

“This isn’t about him though, and it’s not about us,” Jongho mumbled, placing a tray of coffee on the counter, and giving each one of them their mugs, only San didn’t get a coffee, he got Jongho’s special hot chocolate to make him feel better. San had been staring at the red napkin, thumb caressing the small sunflower stitched onto the corner fabric, its once bright colours now faded into a duller tone, much like the matted red of the cloth

“Then who is this about dear baby bear?” Wooyoung snorted, at the sight of San’s ceramic purple cat mug.

“I think Sannie has the answer for that.” He sighed, before taking a sip of his bitter beverage while the other turned to look at the man who was staring at a San who was still looking at his napkin, fingers gripping onto it tighter,

“It’s about her.”

Taglist: @edenesth @mlysalt @yessa-vie @spooo00oky @cereal-simp

#cromernet #k labels #ateez imagine #ateez fluff #choi san #hongjoong #break the wall #seonghwa #mingi #yunho #jongho #fluff #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #atiny #yeosang #song mingi #ateez #atz x reader #atz imagines #choi san x reader #san x reader #san x you #san x y/n #ateez fic #ateez scenario #xikers #ateezedit #ateez angst

[ethereallocs]

I Will Break You (Chp 2.)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen (Pirate) x Fem OC (Mermaid/Siren)

Word Count: 2,116

Content/Warning(s): !!18 PLUS!!, Non-Con/ Dub-Con, Violence, Masturbation, p in v penetration, taking virginity, Choking, Descriptions of Blood/Violence, Abduction, Obsession, Toxic.

Author’s Notes: This is set within The Golden Age of Piracy (1650 to 1726). I don’t know why I thought of this, but I think the best stories are the ones that just pop into your head. I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 2.

After such a gruesome transformation she had become “human” her webbed fingers were now separated. Her sharp talons were now dull and thin. Her skin was pale and flawless and the gills on the side of her ribs were gone. She was now completely exposed to Aemond and seeing her this way only made him want her more. He held her tight while she shook uncontrollably in his arms. He could tell this was traumatic for her but he also knew that the small comfort he provided would make her more subservient to him. The crew call “LAND HO!!” and he knew he was back home.

He wrapped her in linens and when they were fully docked he quickly whisked her away and placed her in a room with a small window. So she could see the ocean, but it wasn’t big enough for her to try and make an escape. He place her on the bed and chained her wrist to a the bedpost. She was exhausted and had passed out on the way there. He looked at her face so pure and unknowing. She had no idea what kind of man he was. How cruel and cold he could be but she would soon find out. His calloused fingers grazed her soft cheeks and those supple lips. He felt himself growing hard in his breeches and he groaned softly.

He removed the linens from her naked form and he inhaled sharply while his hand grabbed at his crotch hoping for some relief. He couldn’t hold back anymore. His hand reached into his pants and pulled his throbbing cock from its prison. His hand tugging roughly at his cock he groaned watching her sleep her precious skin and supple breasts pushing him further. He was tempted to touch her but did not want to risk waking her. He imagined how her beautiful voice would sound once he was inside her. The way her voice would rise and fall with every sigh of pleasure.

He shiver softly feeling himself coming closer to his climax. He tugged harder and faster his teeth digging into the flesh of his bottom lip as he released into the same linen he wrapped her in falling into the bed slightly. She tossed a bit and he stood quickly removing the linen from her bed and getting himself together before he left her to get some rest. She tossed and turned throughout the day her dreams being filled with the dreaded night she was captured. She could feel his hands wrapped around her throat squeezing every bit of life she .

She was awakened by a maid coming in to leave clothes for her. “Hello, milady’ I’m Lydia your handmaiden. Master Aemond told me to bring you some clothes to wear and breakfast is almost ready.” She looked confused trying to make out what she was saying, but it was no use. But she did manage to mutter her name. “L…L-Ly-Dee-A.” Lydia looked to her in surprise and giggled in excitement. “Well, that’s a start, miss. I guess I have to teach to ya English.” She saw the chain holding her to the bed and her eyes softened and filled with sadness. She knew the Lord of this home was a ruthless man but he had never brought a lady here against her will. She didn’t think he was capable of such a thing.

Lydia helped her put on a beautiful midnight blue dress with crystals embroidered into the bodice of the dress. She brushed her hair letting her dark tresses flow within their dry natural state. Her hair was wavy and touched the small of her back. She looked over her and was taken aback by her beauty. “You look beautiful, miss.” She looked to Lydia and remembered that look all too well. She smiled and thought maybe she could get her to free her from these chains. The ocean surrounded this place and if she could escape these walls she could swim to freedom.

But just as she was ready to sing her song he barged in. She backed away from the maid and sat on the bed. She shook in fear, her breathing became erratic and the memories of the night before came back in waves. She climbed onto the bed finding a space against the headboard where she pulled her knees to her chest. Aemond’s gaze was cold and unfeeling, but within him was a fire raging. He saw her and his heart pounded against his chest and his stomach felt like it was doing flips. He looked at her as if she was his salvation. Even as she cowered he couldn’t help what he felt for her.

He was filled with complete and utter desire. He couldn’t help himself if Lydia wasn’t standing there he’d take her now, hell he would take her with his whole staff watching her. He burned for her. “Leave us..wait until I call for you to bring up breakfast.” He commanded and Lydia lowered her head as she exited her room. He walked around the large room watching her closely. It killed him to not feel her soft skin in his hands. To smell the scent of salt on her skin. He held his composure and sat at the foot of her bed. His head turned slightly to look at her from the corner of his eye.

“I do not wish for you to be afraid of me…but you must understand that you belong to me now. This is your home now.” She actually understood him very well and could even speak a little, but she would’ve rather these humans think she was incapable of speaking, but in this very moment she was angry. “Home…is water….” How dare he try to keep her in this place like a song bird in a cage. She was made to be free. Being subjected to these stone walls would only kill her slowly. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips and he turned completely to face her.

“You’ve been holding out on me my little sea demon. What else do you know?” He spoke to her so condescendingly. He didn’t even care what this would do to her. He only cared for his own desires. It was just like a human to only care about what he wanted and not what the consequences of his action would be and in a quick fit of rage she sprang forward digging her fangs into his neck. He screamed in agony and she wrapped her arms and legs around him pulling him in close. Her eyes were dark and filled with malice and the flesh of his neck began to tear. She reveled in the sound and the coppery taste of his blood.

Unfortunately, he managed to stand and elbowed her in the ribs over and over until she relented. She smiled at what she had done holding her side and she scurried away into a corner of the room. He held his hand to his neck and one of the male staff came running to his aid. “You fucking wench…you are going to regret that.” He could barely stay on his feet as he stumbled out of her chambers. It served him right the cunt, she thought to herself. She laughed maniacally to herself with crimson staining her chin and face, trickling down her chest and staining her dress. He had forbade any of the staff to come to her room ever again and she stayed isolated for the remainder of the day.

Night had fallen and he decided he’d pay her another visit. The dull brown shade of dried blood was still on your face and he entered with a warm bowl of water and something else in hand that she could not quite make out. He pulled up a chair and beckons her to come to him. She was hesitant for obvious reasons and placed and a clothe into the bowl. “Here you do it, I won’t touch you.” She pulled the bowl away and wiped her face and chest clean.

He watched her closely and noticed her back was turned. Without warning he came from behind pulling something up to her mouth and fastening it around her head. A muzzle…she fought to pull it off but he was too strong for her. “That will teach you to bite the hand that feeds you.” He whispered in her ear and inhaled her scent as his hands began to wander. The slipped into the bodice of her dress feeling those supple mounds of flesh. She fought to pull away from him but he pulled her back against his chest and wrapped his calloused hand around her throat. “You aren’t getting away this time, Demon.”

His breath was hot against her skin and she was in a panic as he tore away her dress exposing her body underneath the sheer chemise that cling to her now sweaty frame. She dug her nails into him trying to pull away from his clutch with all her might. He enjoyed the fight in her as sick as it may sound. The more she fought the more he wanted her. “Please….” She muttered her eyes softened and filled with fear as he stood between her legs ready to take what was rightfully his. That made his cock throb harder within his breeches. "I'm sorry little dove...I can't stop."

He let his breeches fall to his ankles and his cock sprang free. Her eyes widened from the sheer size and she shook her head no over and over. He admired her body while he pressed his cockhead against her puffy clitoris. The sensation sent a shock through her body. The feeling was unfamiliar and a bit pleasant. She shook herself from the hazy feeling and moaned in protest. He stroked himself slowly while he bucked forward letting his head press against her entrance with every push. She gasped with every thrust anticipating the unwanted intrusion. Your sisters often talked about the use of man. To help us procreate and to eat. The process was never this close or intimate.

Lost in her thoughts she was rudely pulled from them when the sharp pain of him pushing inside her caught her attention. She hissed at him instinctively and grabbed onto the sheets of her bed. He groaned involuntarily and the snug feeling of her walls. He pulled back and saw the blood smearing against his shaft and he smiled at the sight. He pushed her legs up against her chest and leaned his head back at the sounds of her soft whimpers and sighs. She despised him, she even wanted to kill him. The thoughts of taking him under the water and watching the light leave his eye always played in her mind, but at this very moment the pain began to subside and the sheer feeling of pleasure filled her belly.

Her legs trembled and her breathing was heavy. He smiled noticing how aroused she had become and he let his right hand grab at her breast pinching her soft pink nipple causing it to harden between his fingers. If looks could kill he would've been decapitated in the act. How dare he muzzle her like some wild animal, violate her, and make her feel good all at the same time. Aemond grew tired of that evil look in her eyes and wrapped his hand around her throat giving just the right amount of pressure to make her lightheaded but still letting her breathe. She didn't know why, but that sent her over the edge. She felt that unsettling feeling in her stomach building as he pounded into her and fell forward on top of her biting into the flesh of her shoulder causing her to scream. "That's it..." He mused into her ear.

That stupid voice of his made her lose her train of thought. He was ready to come undone himself, but he didn't want to stop. His pace quickened and she could no longer hold herself together. Her legs trembled and her blood and slick smeared his cock. He could feel her walls convulsing around him and without another thrust, he poured his seed into her. They lay there in silence. The only thing that could be heard was them catching their breath. He stood to his feet and let his hand graze her thigh. She still lay in the high of her orgasm but when he touched her again she flinched and hissed. "That wasn't enough, huh? Alright... I'll try something else." With that, he put on his clothes and left her to clean herself up.

To be continued...

Tag list (if you're in bold I couldn't tag you): @bouncehousedemons @dahlias-and-marigolds @iiamthehybrid @sirenangelroyal @ashtheshyonee @elegantsplendour

#fic rec #hotd fanfic #read it #hotd series #10/10 reccomend #aemond fanfiction #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #prince aemond #aemond one eye #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x reader #aemond stannies #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond fic #pirates #mermaid #sirens #siren oc

[midnightfantasiez]

Twisted Love | 둘 (chp. 2)

SUMMARY: you were certain that you would never find love nor ever lose your virginity throughout university, that is until a man named Lee Sangyeon came into the picture and offered to become your tutor; in exchange for keeping your grades up, and most importantly, teaching you everything you needed to know about sex. it was all just for fun & games, that is until one of you started to develop feelings for the other.

PAIRING: tutor!Sangyeon x afab!reader

GENRE: smut (18+ MDNI!!)

WARNINGS: dirty talk, petnames (princess, sweetheart, baby), public sex, p in v sex, kissing, swearing, blowjob, breast play, praise, so they made a pact 😃, and Sangyeon is insane 😮‍💨

WORD COUNT: 2,250

A/N: jayden lee sangyeon. that's all you have to know.

send me an ask/comment to join the series taglist! those in my permanent taglist will automatically be added!

This has got to be the worst day of your life. 

Not only were you late, and you were pretty much unpresentable (in your eyes, that is), but you also just had to cross paths with the guy who literally took your virginity hours ago. 

To make things worse, it was pretty obvious that Sangyeon had been glancing right in your direction every few minutes whenever he could while trying his best to stay focused on what your professor was teaching in class. You could’ve sworn that there were a couple of times he had actually raised an eyebrow whenever he would catch you looking right at him, not focusing on your actual lecture of the day.

This is why you avoid attending parties, and it is also why you avoid drinking alcoholic beverages outside of the comforts of your apartment because the next thing that happens, you actually end up doing things that you’re going to regret for the rest of your life. 

Wait, rewind that. Maybe it wasn’t all too bad. You weren’t going to deny that Sangyeon made you feel so good, and you wouldn’t mind doing it all over with him again—

Wait, what? 

In the blink of an eye, two hours have passed quickly, all while you have been daydreaming or thinking about what happened last night.

Or rather, him.

As you tried shaking off the unnecessary thoughts, you quickly packed all your belongings away messily into your bag, not bothering to organise them as your main priority was leaving the room. When you followed the footsteps of your classmates, you tried your best to fill your mind with simple things to help distract you—what to eat for brunch, if you should head up to the library to do a little bit of work, or if you would instead go for a little walk outside of campus near the local park. 

Before you could even decide on an activity to keep you busy for the next couple of hours before your following lecture, you felt someone grabbing your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as you watched each classmate leave the auditorium individually. 

As you turn your head to see who it is, you are met by the same lustful grin he portrayed the night before, knowing that this will not look good for you.

“Let’s have a little chat, shall we?” 

Oh, hell no. 

Just as you thought, he would not let you off like that, especially when you both exchanged glances throughout the lecture. As the final student left, he reached his other free hand towards his back to close and lock the door, leaving you trapped in the hall. 

“It seems like you have not forgotten about me, huh? Was I really that good, darling?” he teased, leaning closer to you. 

If you thought yesterday was bad enough, today might be much worse. He was styled neatly yet seductive in your eyes. How could someone be so effortlessly good-looking? It shouldn’t have affected you much; plenty of guys dress like this on campus. Was it because you had sex with him last night that changed everything? Probably, but also, there’s something about him that makes you crave for him, for his touch. 

“I-I umm…look…what happened last night…was all a mistake, I swear,” you said, trying to save yourself from embarrassment, trying your best not to bring it up again because you might genuinely throw up thinking about what you did. 

But clearly, it seemed as if Sangyeon had business with you. “That wasn’t nothing, sweetheart. It’s more than that, don’t you think? Especially since you were the one who made the first move against me.”

God, Y/N. What exactly have you done while you were drunk? 

“N-No! It must be the alcohol, and I’m so sorry for what I did. I promise it was an accident!” 

Unfortunately, he wasn’t convinced in the slightest bit. “There are no such things as accidents.” 

Suddenly, he wrapped his fingers again under your chin and lifted your head slightly to ensure you had all eyes on him. You swore the tension in the air swiftly, making breathing harder each second. Something in your gut just tells you that whatever he was going to bring up next will probably not be good. 

And you were absolutely right. 

“Say, princess. I heard that you needed to pass this semester with at least a GPA of 3.5 and above to be able to move on to the next. Why not I’ll help tutor you to ensure you keep up the grades?” 

“But…aren’t you just supposed to help the professor prepare class materials for each lecture?” 

“Oh, honey. Teacher’s assistants do more than just that.” 

Sangyeon began taking a few steps forward, all while his hands were still under your chin. His other free hand slowly wrapped around your waist, pushing you backwards. 

“You see, we do more than just helping the professors prepare the class materials. We also keep an eye on all students to ensure that nobody is falling behind or failing classes. It just so happens that you will definitely need some assistance, especially after your performance from last semester, as I have seen.” 

Both of you were still moving backwards slowly, and all this time you kept your gaze on him. As much as you felt slightly terrified of the whole situation and also of Sangyeon, another part of you was entranced by him.

“Besides that, I think you owe me a little something, don’t you think?” 

“W-What are you talking about?” you questioned before you felt your back bump against the podium located right at the centre of the stage. Immediately, Sangyeon moved both of his hands to both sides, cornering you to ensure that there was not even the slightest chance of escape for you. 

“Who did you think actually carried you all the way back to the comforts of your apartment last night?” 

Oh, him. 

Looking at how you immediately connected the dots, a somewhat devilish grin was plastered on his face. Now, you weren’t sure if you would want to hear his proposal. 

“What are you suggesting, Sangyeon?” You tried your best not to shiver, but it seemed that your tensed body movements gave it all away, making the grin on his face grow wider each second. 

“I’m giving you a special package, sweetheart. I tutor you, and you repay me by making me feel good.” 

Wow, that was direct as hell.

You tried your best to straighten up and retaliate. “W-What makes you think I would have sex with you again? Don’t you know the phrase ‘whatever happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas’?” 

“Let’s be real. It was your first time last night, and you clearly have no experience in all of this. You’re eager to find out and learn more about it anyway.” 

“H-How did you know it was my first?” 

He chuckled. “Baby, it was pretty obvious with the way you cummed.” 

Right, the first time was always different. Your roommate told you so when you talked about it the previous semester. 

With that, you shut your eyes tight, not wanting to face reality at the moment. You just wished you could fly yourself out to space, not wanting to return again. 

“I’m helping you out in both ways, princess. It’s basically killing two birds with a stone. I’d say it’s a pretty good deal. So, what do you say?”

You had no idea how whatever happened thirty minutes ago led you into the situation you are in right now. 

Everything happened so quickly, and you both were having a pretty heated make-out session at the podium. Sangyeon immediately crashed his lips onto yours, savouring you like he did the day before. Obviously, there were no traces of alcohol left on your lips, but there was just something about them that lured him in, licking and kissing them as if it was his first time. 

There was no way you could back off, especially when his lips tasted so good, causing you to whimper slightly throughout the kisses. Naturally, you wrapped your arms around his neck and tilted your head, wanting him to deepen the kiss. 

One thing led to another; you both then proceeded to the back room, where it was pitched black and quiet. Next thing you knew, Sangyeon pulled his pants down vigorously and made you bend on your knees, positioning your mouth right at his cock before placing his thumb right at your mouth, opening it before making you take in his whole length. 

You could tell that he was already hard as fuck, especially when his bulge was pretty much evident through his pants as you both were making out as you felt it hit against your thigh. But now you were finally tasting all the goodness; this was the monster cock that he inserted into your core last night, making you feel as if you were on cloud nine. 

You sucked on it for a while before you naturally decided to move upwards a bit and circle your tongue around his tip. That was when you heard Sangyeon’s groan, and you opened your eyes to see that he arched his back and his head tilted backwards, indicating that he was enjoying this whole situation that was going on. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, “You’re doing so good for me, princess.” 

“Am I…doing a great job?” You asked in between the kisses. 

“More than ever, baby. God, you’re taking my cock so well,” he groaned before he grabbed hold of your hair and decided to push you in deeper, to the point that his tip reached the back of your throat, making you whimper slightly. 

“That’s it, baby. Keep it coming,” he growled, pushing you at a faster pace now, his cock getting deeper down your throat. In return, you could only shut your eyes tight, keeping up the pace until you finally felt his body twitch.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum inside you, princess,” that was his final warning because seconds later, he released all of his liquid into your mouth, the excess dripping down from the corners of your mouth. Sangyeon made sure that you didn’t waste a drop, making you swallow them all in front of him.

“Tell me, how does it taste?” 

“I-It tastes so good…” 

As soon as he heard that, he quickly pulled you up and slammed you down on one of the tables nearby, quickly pulling down the cargo pants that you were wearing before he had a little moment of admiring your ass, his hands moving in circular motions around them. 

“You’re so pretty, princess. And this is all for me,” Sangyeon praised before he grabbed hold of your underwear, pulling them down before positioning his cock at your entrance and pushing it all the way in, earning a yelp from you in return. 

He didn’t even give you time to adjust this time, it was as if he had gone ballistic, and all he wanted to do was to fuck you deep and hard. 

“Did you miss my cock, baby?”

“Hhngh…v-very much, Sangyeon…”

“How does it feel for me to be in you again?” 

“It feels…so good…” you whispered as you tried to catch your breath in between each thrust. 

“Take it all, baby. Take all of my cock,” he picks up his pace, thrusting in you harder and harder each second. He was basically just tearing your walls apart at this point, and he just continued to push in deeper with each moan and whimper you let out. 

“S-Sangyeon…I’m not going to last…” you cried. 

“Then cum with me then, do it together with me, baby.”

Leaning down to grab hold of your neck as he diverted your direction towards him, he crashed his lips onto yours again, all while he was fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. The kisses continued, and you were certain he was out of his mind now, not letting you breathe properly through it all. 

Eventually, you screamed into the kiss as you both finally released both of your liquids together, now slowing down the pace as you both broke apart for a breath of fresh air. Throughout the heavy panting, Sangyeon was slowly massaging your breasts, resting his head with yours. 

“So, Y/N. What do you say about our proposal?” 

It was the first time you heard him say your name, and it definitely sounded so good coming out of his mouth. 

So many red flags went through your mind. You knew very well how this was all a bad idea. There’s no way you could accept a trade like this; it was absolutely insane and out of the question. He was just a one-night stand, and now, your teacher’s assistant. Whatever happened between you two should’ve just stopped right there and then. It was far too risky and dangerous to keep this going. 

Saying no is the only probable answer at this point. There was no way you were going to agree with all of this.

No, you couldn’t. 

Ever. 

“You know…you’re umm…actually pretty good…with all of this…” you stammered, mentally wanting to slap yourself for even blurting out all of that. 

That comment only made Sangyeon grin much wider than he already did before, causing him to pull you up as he kissed you deeper and continued fondling your breast roughly. 

“I knew you’d say yes, sweetheart.”

Oh, god. Whatever have you got yourself into? 

series masterlist

main masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @flwoie @daisyvisions @momhwa-agenda @snowflakewhispers @mamuljji @synthwxve @j4edo (join my permanent taglist here!)

#❤️‍🩹 — twisted love #deoboyznet #k-vanity #k-labels #kflixnet #the boyz #tbz #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #tbz scenarios #tbz fanfic #lee sangyeon #lee sangyeon x reader #lee sangyeon smut #sangyeon smut #the boyz smut #tbz smut #sangyeon imagines #sangyeon scenarios

[undercoverpena]

welcome to jo’s march madness master list

i have LOVED reading all of these wonderful fics, and I wanted to put them in a place where others could enjoy them. i've tried to break them down into characters, but I've not highlighted content warnings, so please check warnings/ratings.

MARCH MADNESS DOESN'T END UNTIL 1ST APRIL. HOWEVER, I WANTED TO SHARE WHAT I'D BEEN READING TO SPREAD THE LOVE BEFORE THE END OF THE MONTH (IN CASE ANYONE WAS LOOKING FOR RECS). THIS NOTE WILL DELETE ON 1ST APRIL.

some links ⥄ all my fic recs ⥄ are you after some less than 3k fics? check out @goodwithcheese's quick pic fic here

FRANKIE MORALES

delta landscaping 14 + 15 by @rhoorl [triple frontier multi characters]

love language by @trulybetty

adrift with you chp. 8 + 9 by @morallyinept [frankie x ofc!jude]

always there for you by @pedroscurls

home by @dancingtotuyo

life is but a by @wordywarriorwrites

hold fast (series) by @jeewrites

imbued by @morallyinept

the melting point series (up to chp. 11 currently) by @penvisions

against the apples by @kteague

the study by @superhoeva

acts of service by @swiftispunk

he with the dark curls, you with the by @hellishjoel

tonight you belong to me chp. 3 by @intheorangebedroom

it's about the way you... by @penvisions

paper airplanes by @littlemisspascal

JAVI PEÑA

call me javi by wildemaven

safe place by @gnpwdrnwhiskey

every inch by @javierpena-inatacvest

señorita chapter by @lavendertales

take the weight off his shoulders chp. 8 by @thetriumphantpanda

JOEL MILLER

mine by @secretelephanttattoo [joel x tess]

denim on denim by @fuckyeahdindjarin [joel (in shiv's world)]

just to see you smile by @gnpwdrnwhiskey [joel x oc!bee]

a lovers pinch by @hier--soir

honey, i won't be home by @trulybetty [jackson joel]

rookie mistake by @fuckyeahdindjarin [seams!joel]

new perspectives by @thetriumphantpanda

the duke's illicit affair by @hellishjoel

northern lights by @morallyinept

raw edge by @fuckyeahdindjarin [seams!joel]

adoration (bodies series) by @morallyinept [tw: mention of breast cancer]

thirst for beauty by @psychedelic-ink [plus size!reader]

MARCUS PIKE

second chances part 1 + 2 by @pedroscurls

i'll crawl home to her by @ezrasbirdie

DAVE YORK

love at first... sight by @goodwithcheese

out of sight by @goodwithcheese

DIN DJARIN

this is the way by @psychedelic-ink

a rule of three by @5oh5

JACK DANIELS

southern nights by @secretelephanttattoo

#jo: marchmadness24 #my fic recs #jo: monthly list

[deliciousangelfestival]

Tears In His Ferrari || Chp 1

Character: Bucky Barnes x Farmer!Reader

Words Count: 2,070

Summary: Bucky Barnes, used to a life of luxury, takes on farm challenges in a bet with his father. Mud-stained Ferraris and a rustic farmhouse lead to unexpected personal growth, guided by the stern mentorship of Y/N, a farmer making his city-boy life difficult.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7 , Chp 8 , Chp 9 ,-

Under the relentless blaze of the scorching sun, Bucky Barnes, the pampered scion of the country's largest retail business, was far removed from the air-conditioned boardrooms of his family's empire. Grumbling incessantly, he swatted away the relentless flies that seemed to thrive in the rural heat. 

"Pick them up gently, Bucky. We don't want scrambled eggs before breakfast," Y/N instructed sternly, her eyes narrowing as Bucky clumsily reached for the first egg. The delicate shell slipped through his fingers, meeting the unforgiving ground with a sharp crack.

"Really, city boy? You gotta treat 'em like they're made of glass," Y/N scolded, her tone unyielding. Bucky, now sporting a mix of irritation and embarrassment, shot back with a sarcastic retort.

"Glass? They're just eggs, not Fabergé. And who knew these chickens were so high-maintenance?"

Bucky, wiping sweat from his brow, replied with a half-smile of his own, “This is absurd. I'm a Barnes, not a farmer.”

How could the sole heir of the country's largest retail company find himself toiling like this? It all stemmed from a bet he made with his father.

2 weeks ago:

Under the glittering Dubai night sky, Bucky, driven by the thrill of rebellion, decided to join a race car event despite his father's explicit warnings. The roar of the engines reverberated through the darkness as Bucky sped along the circuit, the city lights blending into a streak of colors.

As Bucky pulled into the pit garage, the bright lights revealed an unexpected sight – his father, stern-faced and waiting. The realization struck Bucky like a sudden brake, his heart pounding in rhythm with the fading echoes of the race.

His father's disapproval was palpable as he approached, a storm gathering in his gaze.

"Dad!" Bucky exclaimed, but his words were drowned by the tirade that followed. His father, fueled by a mix of anger and concern, chased after him, leaving no room for escape.

The victory that should have been a sweet taste of triumph was overshadowed by the looming storm of his father's wrath.

His father, face etched in a stern expression, strode towards Bucky, a potent mix of anger and disappointment simmering beneath the surface. Bucky's heart sank, realizing that the victory he had just tasted was now tainted by the disapproval in his father's eyes.

"Damn it!" Bucky muttered as he reluctantly shut off the engine and climbed out of the race car. His father's presence loomed over him, a formidable figure casting a shadow on Bucky's moment of recklessness.

His dad, arms crossed, began to unleash a torrent of frustration. "For the whole year, you roamed overseas to live your wildlife. You promised me after graduating that you'd take a year off before entering the company."

Bucky hails from a family that owns the largest retail company in the country, a business empire built over generations. As the sole heir to this colossal enterprise, Bucky enjoys the privileges that come with his family's success. 

Bucky is set to inherit Verve, a retail giant in the country. Despite the family's success, his spoiled and impulsive nature creates a conflict between his privileged upbringing and the responsibilities tied to the business. 

Seated on a nearby bench, Bucky nibbled on his snacks, a subconscious attempt to deflect the gravity of the situation. His eyes, darting between the snacks and his father, conveyed a mix of guilt and defiance.

He heard his father's words but struggled to understand why he, the heir to the family's business empire, should start as an intern when his friends effortlessly landed positions in their family companies.

"Why intern, Dad?" Bucky interjected his tone, a mix of frustration and confusion. "We own the company. Why don't I get the same treatment as my friends?"

The tension in the pit garage hung thick as his father expressed his feelings. "I'm fed up with it!" he declared, his voice a mixture of anger and disappointment.

Bucky, attempting to downplay the situation, replied nonchalantly, "Dad, chill. At least I gained some money from this."

His father responded swiftly and cut, "And you blew it all in a second! How can I trust our company to you?"

He rubbed his chest, a physical manifestation of the stress and disappointment weighing on him. "I feel like our ancestors are judging me. They were never big spenders like you."

A moment of silence followed as both father and son grappled with the underlying issues. Bucky's father couldn't shake the feeling that he had spoiled Bucky too much, especially since the loss of Bucky's mother when he was still young.

Feeling offended, Bucky retorted, "Do you think I can't handle my own money? I could make a million in one week."

"Really?" his father questioned, a skeptical look in his eyes.

Bucky, fueled by pride, affirmed, "Yes."

The challenge was set. Bucky's father nodded, "Alright, if you could make our farm profitable with a million, I will give you any position you want in the company."

"Really?" Bucky's eyes widened, a glimmer of opportunity sparking.

"Yes. If you manage to do it, I will never interfere with your life anymore," his father declared. Both of them shook hands, sealing the deal.

But then came the unexpected twist. "By the way, I'm going to cut all your access to your money," his father dropped the bomb.

"What?" Bucky exclaimed, shock and disbelief etched across his face.

"Your great-grandfather started his business with $100. You need to appreciate money, stop wasting it all in one day," his father explained sternly.

"But how am I going to live without money?" Bucky protested, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.

"I've provided everything you need on the farm," his father countered, emphasizing the gravity of the challenge. "You're my only son, and I don't want you to be a wastrel!"

The moment's intensity lingered in the air as the weight of the challenge and the drastic shift in Bucky's circumstances began to sink in.

Bucky couldn't help but roll his eyes at the daunting challenge ahead. "Fine. I'll show that I can do it on my own. How difficult can it be?" he muttered, perhaps more to reassure himself than anything else.

Oh, how he wished he could take those words back as his Ferrari pulled up to the family farm, the only luxury permitted by his father. To his dismay, the farm appeared desolate and barren, a stark contrast to the lavish lifestyle he was accustomed to.

Bucky, sporting his usual city-boy ensemble of expensive leather shoes and a sleek leather jacket, stepped out of the pristine car only to find the uneven terrain immediately wreaking havoc on his attire. Mud splattered on the once-immaculate leather shoes, a cruel irony of the stark contrast between luxury and the rustic farm reality.

As Bucky surveyed the damage to his meticulously polished shoes, his eyes widened with panic. "No, no, no. You’ve got to be kidding me," he muttered frantically, attempting to wipe away the mud with his hands, only succeeding in making matters worse.

The realization of his Red Ferrari parked amidst the farm's untamed landscape hit him like a ton of bricks.

A look of horror crossed Bucky's face as he surveyed the mud-smeared exterior of his prized possession. "This is not happening," he exclaimed, his voice laced with a mix of disbelief and anxiety.

The once-gleaming Ferrari now stood as a symbol of the clash between opulence and the unyielding demands of rural life, leaving Bucky in a state of mild panic about the fate of his beloved car amid this unexpected farm adventure.

His panic only intensified as he turned his attention to the house assigned to him. It was a far cry from the sleek, modern apartment he was accustomed to. With its weathered exterior and superficial charm, the rustic farmhouse left Bucky in shock. 

"Wait, this is my house?" he stammered, disbelief etched across his face. The reality of the situation sank in, and Bucky grappled with the stark contrast between the urban comfort he knew and the quaint simplicity of his new rural abode.

In sheer disbelief, Bucky scratched his head and pulled at his hair. "How am I going to do this? I'm so dead," he lamented, realizing the task's magnitude.

Just as the weight of the situation began to sink in, a voice disrupted his thoughts. "James Barnes?"

Turning around, Bucky saw a woman seated in a farm truck, wearing a practical flannel grey shirt. She stepped out of the truck, her attire markedly suitable for the farm environment.

Still grappling with the shock of the situation, Bucky mustered a response, "The one and only call me Bucky. And you are?"

Undeterred by his casual attitude, the woman retorted with a smirk, "The one who will make your life miserable."

Bucky's eyes widened in disbelief. "Is this how you introduce yourself when meeting a new person?" he shot back, a mixture of surprise and amusement playing across his face. 

Y/N's face remained stoic, her expression unwavering as she delivered the news to Bucky. "I will be straight to the point; your life won't be easy like in the city," she asserted, leaning down to rest her hands on the wooden rail. "I'll be your mentor."

With a pointed finger, she continued, "We're neighbors. My dad asked me to help you." Her tone hinted at an unspoken determination to ensure Bucky's time in the town would be far from a leisurely escape. She was poised, ready to make him regret ever leaving her domain.

Flashback start

Y/N had returned from the farm two days prior, dropping fresh milk on the kitchen cabinet with plans to make cheese—her mother's favorite. Her family, owners of a dairy farm and several crops, had a livelihood deeply rooted in agriculture. The biggest of their ventures was their dairy farm.

As Y/N washed her hands, her father said their family would assist their new neighbor. Y/N, although accustomed to helping neighbors, Y/N couldn't hide her disdain when she heard the name 'Barnes.' She gritted her teeth at the mere mention of the family.

Her aversion to the 'Barnes' name was reflected in her unyielding body language, a subtle tension in her shoulders, and a clenching of her jaw. The prospect of aiding Bucky, the city boy from the family she held some resentment toward, added an unexpected layer of complexity to her already busy life on the farm.

Years ago, in their relentless pursuit of expanding their retail empire, the Barnes family made a business move that significantly impacted Y/N's family farm. The Barnes Corporation, seeking to acquire more land for development, had set its sights on the quaint farmland owned by Y/N's family.

Despite Y/N's family's resistance and the sentimental value attached to their land, the Barnes Corporation, driven by profit, successfully carried out the acquisition, leaving Y/N's family with no choice but to relinquish the farm that had been in their possession for generations.

The ruthless business dealings and lack of empathy from the Barnes family left a bitter taste in Y/N's mouth.

Despite the Barnes Corporation's relentless pursuit of their farmland, Y/N's family salvaged a small piece of their ancestral land.

But, the memories of losing her family's cherished farm to the corporate giant fueled Y/N's resentment and distaste for the Barnes family. 

Flashback end

Y/N flashed Bucky an assuring smile, though it carried an undercurrent of intimidation. Her expression was a blend of warmth and a silent warning. Bucky, feeling the weight of the unspoken challenge, involuntarily gulped.

It was a realization that, from that moment onward, his life was destined to be anything but easy. The smile that seemed promising also bore the weight of a mentorship that would test his resilience in the unfamiliar terrain of the farm.

Still processing the intensity of Y/N's smile, Bucky mumbled uncertainly, “What have I gotten myself into? ... and I have no clue where this is headed." With a mix of trepidation and curiosity in his eyes, he took a hesitant step forward, realizing that the journey ahead was bound to be far more intricate than he had initially bargained for. 

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7

Join the taglist? 🩷💙🩷

@bagoffeelings

@darkofimagination

@starsofcloud

@cherrybubblebullet

@winterslove1917

@thezombieprostitute

@namoreno

@sagebarness

@tenaciousathleteoperatorgarden

@unaxv

@freshlemontea

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes au #buckybarnes #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian x y/n #sebastian stan characters #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine

[thatisayouproblem]

!spoilers for the end of chp. 2: tender is the night!

so that explains why ezra and schneider (only in the beta of the game) are/were playable characters with afflatuses (schneider is beast when you fight her and was beast when she was playable in the demo) despite being human

also i love that they made a whole new picture for vertin with the kangaroos in ru-04

#reverse 1999 #r1999 #r1999 schneider #schneider reverse 1999 #ezra theodore #ezra reverse 1999 #ezra theodore reverse 1999 #i am so mad about pavia’s new skin #dont get me wrong it’s great #but i do not have the money for a skin on a character locked at i2 for being a 4star #im sorry pavia bb youre not getting a new skin i have bills to pay #also i have a friend who’s a trans guy called ezra who (sorta) looks like ezra theodore so i decided he’s trans now