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#we are so incredibly lucky to have oliver honestly
neverevan · 25 days
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9-1-1: S7E04 ↳ “Buck, Bothered and Bewildered”
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manicpixiefelix · 4 months
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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}
Part 6.
Summary: Felix learns about what happened between you and Oliver at the club, and some jackass makes assumptions about you and Felix and your intentions towards Oliver. The interaction gets you worked up enough that you feel the need to repay Felix as when he'd defended you. With sex.
{ masterpost }
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.
Warnings: SMUT; AFAB!reader, d/s dynamics, felix being a chatty brat, assume the reader is on birth control, unprotected sex.
A/N: 4782 words. cannot go two chapters without having a felix/reader moment it seems. bare with me i swear we get more oliver as it goes on, but he's just watching through the blinds right now and collecting information. also forgive me, not only is this unedited, it's also the first actual, explicit smut scene i've written in years, and even longer since i've been intimate with someone with a dick. i also dont read smut so this might be weird pacing wise at the end. honestly the smut is just a backdrop for character development. have at ye, and please lemme know what you think!
TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
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Summer creeps in almost insidiously, days getting longer and warmer, humidity forcing it's way into every single facet of your lives. Afternoons outside of classes are spent doing not much of anything, hoping that when night falls, the temperature will fall with it.
This afternoon is the coolest you've had in several weeks, laying on Felix's floor, listening to him play the guitar while Oliver was draped over the foot of his bed, gazing at Felix's bookshelf. There's a sweet breeze through the open window and you hum along to the tune you recognise your best friend playing, letting yourself soak in the moment.
The quiet spell breaks as Oliver moves, reaches out for something on Felix's bookshelf.
"That's cute," he muses, "baby Felix." It must be the photo of Felix and his childhood dog, the you'd only met once or twice as a kid before he'd passed, before you'd been properly friends. But Oliver puts the photo back almost as fast as he'd picked it up, "there aren't any pictures of me as a kid," he muses.
"You and Y/N have that in common," Felix says idly, surprising both you and Oliver, though for different reasons; you hadn't even realised he'd remembered that about you. Your vapid, jet-setting, philanthropist parents had always been incredibly image conscious, and a child was never part of that image. Born out of obligation to their own parents to produce a grandchild to make eventual inheritance easier, they longed to distance themselves from the very idea of you unless they desperately needed to.
And they hadn't for as long as you've been alive.
"If there were baby photos of me, that'd prove that my parents had a child," you laughed, but there was no real humour in it, "and none of us wants that."
The invisible heir.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Oliver says faintly, an unfamiliar, unreadable look in his eyes as he gazes over at you. You give a blithe shrug.
"It means I got to find a home in Felix," you say easily, the wording sappy enough to make Felix himself laugh.
"You're such a sap, that's so much nicer than what I was going to say."
"Go on then, out with it," you prompted him, despite his faint, playful protest.
"I was going to call you another ward of the Saltburn Estate," Felix grins at you, "for better or worse."
"At least you had a family who loved you," Oliver turns away again, pressing his cheek to the duvet as his gaze focused back on the photo of Felix and his dog, "even if they weren't yours." There's a distinct discomfort in the air now, a reminder of how vastly Oliver's life differs from your own.
"I was lucky in a lot of ways," is all you can think to say. Felix starts playing guitar again.
These long days turn into long nights, parties, girls and boys and everyone in between, hazy chats and drinking games and hands on you - holding you, dancing with you, brushing past, tapping with excitement, always hands on you. The quiet way Oliver goes through these strange situations may be read as awkward to everyone else, but you're no longer under any such illusions.
"You're desperate to feel needed."
There was no hesitation in his voice the other night, his hands on you, his mouth on you.
"Then need me, want me."
How easily he'd made you flustered in the club, you didn't realise he had it in him. Honestly if you hadn't experienced it yourself, you wouldn't believe it if someone else had told you. There's been a change, however, a subtle, unnoticeable one to anyone looking in from the outside. Every so often, on nights out, you'll catch him watching you with that same hungry look in his eyes, but will never act on it, however much you wish he would.
"I do, but not like this, not now."
What the fuck was he playing at? You never knew how to bring it up, even when you were alone together. But he never stopped reached out for you, he never shied away from your touch. Apart from this one thing, it was the exact same as before.
If only that one thing didn't have the potential to change everything.
"Has Ollie seemed any different to you lately?" You go to the only person you know you can trust with this. Felix frowns at his hand of cards for a long moment before looking back up at you.
"Sorry, what was the question?"
"Ollie," you go a little slower, rearranging your own hand of cards, "does he seem... I don't know, different to you?" Then, as Felix was considering, "got any fives?"
"Go fish." You should both be studying for an upcoming exam.
"What do you mean? Has anyone said anything to you?" Felix momentarily put down his cards to relight his cigarette, fixing you with an intense gaze, "did something happen?"
"Did someone say something to you?" You pivot for the moment, still looking at your cards.
"Annabel."
"Annabel?"
"About her birthday thing."
"Are you taking your turn or what?"
"Oh, right," he's still frowning, picking up his cards with his free hand, "threes?" You swear as you hand over two threes, as he quietly cheers.
"Anyways, what about Annabel's birthday thing? Does she has a problem with Ollie?" At your question, Felix ums and ahs, and avoids eye contact, "yes then?"
"No-one else in the group is a huge fan of him," he even sounds guilty admitting it out loud, "everyone else can kind of feel how out of place he is and it makes things awkward. I know we think he's lovely," Felix tried to quickly placate you, or perhaps his own conscience, "but the man's got zero chat." This does, however, make you snort.
"Ollie's got chat," you smirk down at your cards, only realising what you'd said when you're met with a shocked silence. Looking up, Felix is staring at you with utter surprise.
"Does he now?" He sounds downright scandalised. You can feel yourself growing flustered, both under Felix's delighted, intrigued gaze, and at your own memories from the club, "so something did happen?"
"Nothing happened!"
"Something definitely happened!"
"I didn't fuck him."
"Between nothing and fucking there's a whole lot of somethings that could have happened," card game completely forgotten, Felix is enraptured as you begin to briefly explain the interaction at the club -
"- and well then, he starts calling me out while aggressively making out with me," you take a deep, final breath, finally looking Felix in the eyes, "and I desperately wanted to fuck him because of it." You sigh, and give Felix plenty of time to process the story and recover.
"But you didn't?" Finally, he speaks, and you groaned, throwing your head back to look at the stars.
"No," you sulked, "he disappeared into the crowd and I had to get myself off twice before I could sleep that night. Fucking tease," but you're heart's not really mad at Oliver.
"Always fascinated to learn what turns you on," Felix is desperately trying to hold in his laughter. It's not working, "many of them baffle me."
"That's not the point here, Fi," you rolled your eyes, leaning back against the gravel roof finally, laying back. You hear the pebbles shifting, and moments later Felix joins you, hands behind his head, "I don't know how to talk about it with him," you say softly. Then, tone much lighter, "and it doesn't surprise me that Annabel thinks he has no chat, he just doesn't want to fuck her, and she can't fathom a world where anyone doesn't want her."
Felix laughs, but unfortunately isn't able to offer any real advice to you about your Oliver situation.
Oliver Quick was an anomaly in your life, you should maybe have suspected his friendship to bring on further anomalous occurrences.
"Leave Oliver Quick alone," like the voice in the library that greets you harshly whilst you're hunting down a textbook. Spinning to see who it is, you lay eyes on a blonde man in dreadfully practical clothes; he's glaring at you like you've done him some personal offense.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me," he says sharply, gaze as unwavering as his tone, "you vapid -" he stops himself for a moment, face turning red with anger, "pricks," he settles on, "leave Oliver Quick alone, for his sake."
"Is this a joke?"
"Oh I'm not one for jokes, especially not with the likes of you; I know how you and Mister Catton operate. Selfish," he hissed.
"Do I know you?" Its genuine confusion, and for a moment the man's expression turned annoyed, his righteous indignation turning to faint disappointment as you refused to take him and his request seriously.
"Michael," like it should mean something to you, "Michael Gavey;" still nothing, "I was in the year below you at high school for four years."
"Well, Michael," you start slowly, bordering on condescending, "Ollie's a big boy -"
"I know you; you'll get bored, you two always do," Michael cuts you off with a sneer, some of that anger from just earlier returning, "he deserves more than to be a footnote in your frivolous little lives."
"Fuck off, Mikey." You say it as a warning.
"Michael," he corrects through gritted teeth, "Felix is a slag, which makes you the sensible one, so I thought you'd actually listen -" but the realisation hits you, right as you start to see red.
"You've already tried talking to Ollie," immediately, your tone ices over, humourless, cruel little smile twisting the edges of your lips. Noticing your change in demeanour, the fight seems to drain out of Michael before your very eyes, "and he ignored you, didn't he?" You asked, already knowing the answer from the way he was trying to stammer through an answer.
"Now, Michael," you tell him with a poisonous smile, taking even, measured steps towards him, as you turn his name over on your tongue with as much malice as you can manage, "Michael Gavey, I think I do know you," you're playing with your food, drawing out his discomfort with every slow word; you weren't cruel by nature, not unless someone found which button to press, "first year," you drop your voice low as you get into his space. He starts to shrink backwards, but you're practically on his toes until you're crowding him against the bookshelf, "math genius, shouts in the dining hall -"
"I didn't- just once-"
"If you ever," there's a furious look in your eyes behind your sinister smile as you stand toe-to-toe with Michael, "and I mean fucking ever, breathe the word slag in Felix's direction, or any other insult for that matter," you wet your lips, "I promise the only job you will ever get for the rest of your life will be that of a high school English tutor," you pet his cheek condescendingly, "for students with dyscalculia."
Michael actually shudders.
"You know I can do it too, don't you?" You press, and he nods, looking both furious and ashamed where he can't look you in the eyes, "we went to high school together, Mikey, I know where you came from, I can dictate where you will go." Stepping back, you clear your throat. Nodding to him, you turn on your heel to head further into the library, to continue searching for your book.
Trying to move past it doesn't work, it still irks you, you still can't stop thinking about his weaselly little face, the bitter sneer he wore, and the cruelty with which he spoke about you and Felix. It haunts you. The audacity.
Textbook in hand, you immediately head for the patch of greenery and trees near Oliver's dorm, where you know Felix and the rest of your friends will all be spending their afternoon.
"Ooh~ Y/N coming in hot," Farleigh called, spotting the metaphorical cloud of thunder above you before anyone else.
"What are you doing now?" Ignoring everyone else, you only have eyes for Felix. He grins up at you from where he was using Farleigh's thigh as a pillow.
"I assume whatever it is you're about to ask of me," he says blithely, while the others watch the interaction with amusement.
"I need to rant," was all you said, and Felix held out his hand for you to help him up.
"You're so sexy when you're angry," he says teasingly for the whole group to hear, "has anyone ever told you that?"
"I'm not kidding," you scowl, and his grin widens.
"I know, that's the best part, I could listen to you yell for hours, I usually never get to hear it." The banter continues on the way back to your dorm. The others know it's probably a cover, though none of them, apart from Farleigh of course, know the truth. Most assume you're moments from a breakdown and would like to have your best friend there for support.
The minute you're back in your room, you slam the door shut and toss the textbook to the side. Felix asks you what's wrong, tone still light, and you can feel that protective anger flaring up in you.
Slag.
"If you don't hold me back I might start getting into scraps," you tells him with seriousness, stalking up to him with intent, planting an almost bruising kiss on his lips as you fumble with the buttons of your shirt. It's not often that you're the one getting riled up; Felix is more than enthusiastic.
"Don't fight on my behalf," he laughs, frantically pulling off his sweater. Pausing for a moment to help him with the pullover, the minute it's off and tossed to the side, you're unbuttoning his shirt with one hand as best your able, as he's trying to tug your shirt off in the chaos. The two of you are moving to the bed, and he actually gasps when the back of his legs hit, when you take a beat to raise your eyebrows at him, silently asking permission.
He's already letting himself fall back with a wicked, delighted grin as your hand finds his bare chest.
Then he's breathless, with you braced over him, gazing down at him with a furious determination that you don't usually allow yourself to build up. Felix looks up at you with pure extasy in his eyes, like you hang the stars in the sky. His hands on your ass, his grip is firm and secure, but he doesn't move; he's letting you lead.
"Felix Catton, I ruin lives for you," you practically snarl; a breathy laugh escapes him, caught up in the moment, in the mood that's been building within you, "doesn't feel like enough sometimes -"
"You're so fucking hot," he groans like he can't even help himself, can't hold himself back, can't help but close the gap to your lips, kissing you with that same intensity you're giving him.
"If I hear-" you punctuate your words with rough kisses, "another word-" biting at his lips, "against you, I'm -" fumbling with his belt, "I'm gonna start cutting people -"
"Yeah?" Felix prompts breathlessly with a sharp grin, not even waiting to get your fly all the way down before his hand is in your pants, fingers at an awkward angle in your jeans but still finding your clit. It's like you're feeling everything tenfold with the earlier outrage still burning in your veins -
Vapid pricks. The likes of you. Slag. Watching Felix's hands on the girl in the club. The venom in his voice and fury in his eyes when he'd pinned Farleigh to the wall to defend you - Our Felix; Oliver's voice like honey in your ears, tempting that jealous creature in your chest that you'd gone for years ignoring -
"My Felix," you'd purred as your hand found his cock. For a moment, his breath came out as a stutter, eyes going wide as they meets yours. He looks almost incredulous, then, after a moment, hungry, wanting. It's captivating; he's captivating, like he's desperate to devour every part of this moment and you in it, barely holding himself back.
"One more time for me?" He requests, voice low and pleased, before he changes tactics, indicating for both of you to actually take off your pants.
"Everyone's fucking wrong about you," you tell him, kicking your jeans to the side, watching for a moment as he shimmies with his jeans, looking like he's made of ninety percent limbs. Still, your intensity holds.
"Even the people that like me?" Felix laughs, finally getting himself free of the jeans. Before he can remove his boxers, however, you're on him once more, thumbs hooking into the waistband and pulling them down slowly as you speak.
"Everyone else has these versions of you in their head," you begin to plant kisses along his inner thigh as you work your way up, looking up at him through your lashes, "where you're either an angel who can do no wrong," Felix is already hard when you begin to slowly work your hand up and down the shaft of his cock, "or the absolute devil who's a scourge on the female population," your lip curls for a moment, a derisive kind of amusement at their imagined expense.
"I can't look at you right now," he half chokes out, head falling back against your duvet, "fuck," he gasps. It's enough to bring you back to the moment, and you apologise -
"No, fuck, don't stop anything; the ranting, the -" he gestures to where your movements had slowed briefly, "any of it, I just literally," he laughs a little awkwardly, almost a little self-deprecatingly, "will not last more than a minute if I look at you right now."
Oh.
Oh! This is good!
"What's so different," he prompts through shaky breathes - you can't quite believe how much he's effected by you in this moment, how enthusiastically, how desperately he responds to your dominant intensity - "about the version of me in your head?"
After a beat, you climb off of him, already reaching for your drawer.
"Everything okay?" He asks, eyes opening as he tilts his head to look at you. Pulling out a tube of lube, you focus on opening it up, rather than Felix himself. You should be using protection, you know you should be using protection, but you want to feel all of him, only him.
"I can't talk with my mouth full," you told him, still maintaining that steely intensity, "so we're skipping foreplay." Felix, immediately understanding where you were going with all this, looks back up at the ceiling with a wide smile.
"Fine by me; right now I'm inclined to say that you can do whatever you want forever, honestly - cold!" He announced with shock, jerking up a little as you glided a generous amount of lubricant over his cock. There's a faint look of betray in his eyes, but you just gave him a thin, mean smile.
"Felix, stop talking."
The commanding tone is enough to get him back on board, groaning, arching into your touch as you once again were working his shaft, now so slick your hand glided easily up and down the impressive length.
"My Felix," voice once again low, you use some of the excess lubricant on yourself. Since leaving the library, however, your anger had known it's outlet; just the idea of fucking Felix in a righteous fury had gotten you going, and you were already wet, wanting, desperate for him.
"Don't make me beg," he all but whimpered as you finally straddled his thighs, "fuck, I'll do it for you, but -"
"Shut. Up. Felix." You leaned down, chest pressed to his lips inches from his, whispering, "I won't make you beg," as you sink down onto his cock, swallowing his moan with a kiss.
"I am under no illusions about you, Felix," you begin to murmur, hips rolling at a deep, consistent rhythm, "I don't have a version of you in my head, I just have you; I just want you, as you are."
Pace picking up, you sit, rake your nails lightly down his chest, watch as he pants and groans beneath you. When he holds your hips, your thighs, you can feels his nails digging in, burying himself deep inside of you with each rhythmic thrust. There's something primal and triumphant roaring in your chest, pushing you to sink your nails into him, your teeth -
"I don't care who you fuck," you tell him through gritted teeth, picking up your pace, thighs burning.
"You're a fucking liar," tumbles from Felix's lips as he looks up at you with a smirk.
"I don't, I'd be a hypocrite -" very suddenly, Felix sits up, and you go still with him still inside of you, adjusting to the change, wrapping your legs around him.
"Then you're a hypocrite," he smirks, gaze hazy, heady, euphoric in this moment, "and a liar," and he wraps his arms around you as he kisses you, pulling you back with him as he lays back down on the bed.
"I'm not jealous," you start again, softer this time, but still aiming for stern.
"I'll say I believe you," there's mischief in Felix's eyes as his hand snakes between the two of you, fingers rubbing circles against your clit as you pick your rhythm back up again, slower this time.
"Fi," for the first time all afternoon, your voice softens, and you let your stern demeanour break, instead looking over him, glowing with sweat and endorphins, in your bed, in you, looking up at you with nothing but love in his eyes, "I don't care if nobody knows it's me, but -" you wet your lips, wicked little smile on your lips, "I want everyone else you ever fuck to be jealous of the way you let me fuck you."
Something about your words, your request, perhaps your tone, sets him off again; you rake your nails lightly down his chest again and he arches up, swearing, almost breathless.
"Yes, fuck, yes," comes out alongside a breathless moan, "my Y/N, anything you want - please."
You paint him blue and purple and the deepest, prettiest red with hickeys, leaving him looking absolutely scandalous. Of course he returns the favour in the form of scratch marks up your back and his teeth almost drawing blood from your shoulder. When he comes it's with your mouth on his neck and his cock deep inside of you, holding you close, holding you steady, whispering incoherent praise into your ear. Always diligent, he doesn't move, doesn't pull out or away from you before his focus is on you, making sure you get off, delighting in watching you unravel on top of him.
In the afterglow, amid the sharing of a cigarette and catching of your breath, you apologise softly.
"What are you apologising for?" He immediately cracks a grin, "in fact, any time you ever start to get all worked up and mean like that, have me on speed dial -"
"I - no, Fi," you sighed, amused at his suggestion, though it was fading fast, "I just... try not to be jealous," there's faint notes of guilt now that you've come down from the adrenaline and endorphins of it all. Sitting against the headboard, you draw your knees up to your chest.
"I know," Felix says easily, sitting up beside you, resting his head against your shoulder, his hand on your knee, "I try too... I don't think I'm always that great at hiding it." Then, after a moment, his tone lightens, "I think this is why I don't want to tell people about us, I don't think I could begin to explain it in a way that makes sense." It gets you to laugh, leaning into him, tension and guilt easing.
"I thought it was the rush of sneaking around and lying to people."
"There's that too," he agreed with a chuckle. The two of you fall into easy silence as he takes a drag on the cigarette and hands it over. The afternoon is sticky-hot, especially in your room, curtains still half open but window shut. As you go to open it, not caring about potential onlookers in the twilight, past the sliver of your curtain, Felix speaks up.
"There's no version of me in your head? Not even a little bit rose-coloured-glasses tinted?" He grins at you, and you lay out on the bed, looking up at him through your lashes. After a moment of simply taking the moment in, you shake your head with a soft smile.
"I told you, I'm under no illusions about you, Fi."
"I think you're too good to me for that to be true."
"I want you as you are, dude," you shrug, as if it's the easiest truth in the world.
"As I am?" He wants to be sceptical but his tone and the look in his eyes betrays him. You've never heard him quite so soft you think, eyes wide and glassy and full of conflict and love; everyone wants him, everyone loves him, everyone wants to be him or be with him, he's reckoned with his reality a long time ago, even if he wasn't entirely conscious of it. Felix's life had been picked apart by everyone around him at the surface level for as long as he could remember, perhaps he'd thought that no-one would ever care to look deeper. Perhaps he'd gotten so used to it that he'd forgotten there was anything deeper.
"I want the Felix who can't keep a girlfriend for more than two months, and who's cheated on every single one of them with me," you start, wearing a grin despite his sudden frown, "I want the Felix who hugs and kisses strangers after just meeting them because he's bursting at the seams with affection, I want the Felix who won't admit that he sleeps better with someone next to him at night, and the Felix who recaps the books he's been reading to me like they're gossip. The Felix who uses people, and breaks hearts, who says he doesn't know he's doing it but I know you do," you laugh, sitting up on your knees and letting the blankets slide down your back as Felix looks up at you now with a fond kind of reverence, "I want the Felix that lights up every room he's in without even trying, who makes everyone around him feel like they're the only person in the world, and that same Felix who still shifts over, mid conversation with someone else, for me to sit down beside him without having to even ask, because you know we'll always come back to each other," you lean down, lips inches from his, burning intensity in your gaze as you take in the reverence in his eyes, "the Fi who fights for me, the Fi who loves that I'd ruin lives for him, my Felix -" You see the moment he can no longer hold himself back, arcing forward, moving from the headboard to be by you, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. For a long moment it's your mouth fitting perfectly against his, faint, desperate groan being pulled from the back of his throat as he takes your face in his hands, firm, warm, wanting, deepening the kiss.
"Some of those things were pretty shit," he laughed a little self consciously after the kiss breaks, both of you breathing heavy. In his eyes you can see the barest hint of conflict.
"People have said worse."
"And you got them expelled," he reminded with a faint smile, but again there's that conflict, "and they aren't you."
"You're my best mate," you laugh easily, "that shit, the good and the less good, makes you my Felix. Be pretty shit of me to want to chop and change who you are, you know?"
For a very long moment, you watch the way he slowly begins to smile, to take all your saying in drinking in this sun-drenched moment. Reaching out, he carefully touches your cheek.
"Say it again then," he prompts, sounding almost giddy, feather-light touches as if mapping your delicate features in this moment. For a brief second you're confused, barely angling your head to indicate as such before you can see his faint blush beneath his golden skin, creeping up his cheeks. When he laughs, almost self conscious, you realise, and grin back.
"You're a sap."
"Don't make me beg."
"My Felix."
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Challenging fate (Tom Riddle x reader)
soulmate!au
Chapter 3
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Masterlist
Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 Epilogue
Description: There were a lot of unexpected things happening the day of the Battle of Hogwarts. Being send back into the past to change the course of history was definitely one of them.
2590 words
You had to get used to going-out with Tom, and to being topic number one amongst the students. But you felt like Tom didn’t care, the morning after your library revelation he waited next to the entrance of the Hufflepuff common room to escort you to breakfast (his words not yours). And if no one had seen you two the evening before, they’d definitely seen you then. By noon everyone in the castle knew about him courting you - as they called it.
You got nasty stares from most of the girls, when Tom wasn’t with you they even called you names sometimes. That one Slytherin girl Olive Hornby was the nastiest of them all, it seemed like she was sure she was going to get with Tom before you showed up, but atleast your friends from Hufflepuff were honestly excited for you.
When you entered the common room on the evening the whole castle found out (Tom had accompanied you again) they were immediately dragging you into your dorm and started questioning you, going on about how you were so lucky to have secured such a great match.
When you told them he was your soulmate they weren’t able to calm down until late into the night. And it was fun talking to them about it, but when you finally layed down that night you were thinking about Hermione and Ginny and Luna and how you wished you could talk to someone about what was really going through your mind. How you were anxious about the possibility of failing and not being able to save them all.
The other thing worrying you was how incredibly fast you were falling for the boy. All the things he did that were so old-fashioned and probably normal here, were making your heart and knees weak and made you forget about your mission sometimes. But was it really a „mission“ if it changed the course of your life too? Like you couldn’t just go back to your life in the future like it was before - if you changed his mind, he’d come with you.
But before you could get sucked more into your thoughts than you already were, Professor Binns ended his lesson with the same monotone voice that you knew from the future. „Come on (Y/N), the weekend is finally here, I don’t want to spend anymore time than necessary in this room!“, Edith rushed you with her bag already packed. Giggling you pushed your stuff into yours too, and you two hurried out of there as quick as possible.
„Helga, I feel like with every word he speaks he’s getting slower“, she groaned when you were making your way to the Hufflepuff commonroom to discard your books and meet the others. „I’m glad I’m not the only one who noticed, I thought I was going crazy for a moment“, you laughed and walked down the stairs.
„Did Tom ask you to go to Hogsmead with him tomorrow yet?“, Edith asked for what felt like the millionth time that week. The girls were all bothering you about it and you were starting to get nervous too, why hadn’t he asked you yet? „No he hasn’t“, was your only response and you knocked on the barrel before stepping into your commonroom.
You were meeting Tom in the library later this afternoon but you promised the girls that you would spend some time with them today, so when you stepped into your dorm Ruth, Grace and Elsie were already there, chatting about their lessons. „Ah there you are! Are you ready to go to the lake?“, Elsie asked jumping up from her bed. „Calm down Elsie“, Edith laughed and you were putting your bags away before all five of you gathered at the door. „I got everything we need for the Picknick from the houseleves, so let’s go!“, said Grace, carrying a large basket.
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You were sitting next to Tom in a quiet corner in the library, not really being able to focus on your essay. The picnic this afternoon was so fun, but also really exhausting and it was already eight in the evening. Writing down another seemingly random word, you finally put your quill aside, accepting that you’re not going to do anything productive this evening.
„I think I have to go to bed Tom, I’m so tired“, you yawned, leaning your head against his shoulder, your hand gripping his biceps. You heard him chuckle and his shoulder moved under you: „Was the picnic with your friends so exhausting?“ Hearing the taunt in his voice you straightened up again, looking at him offended.
„Are you making fun of me?“, you pouted and he turned to look at you, a grin on his face. „I would never“, he continues teasing you. „If that is how it is, I think I’m going to go“, you were starting to pack your bag, but you and him both knew you were kidding.
He gripped your chin and turned you to look at him, your heart missing a beat at the gesture. „Don’t be mad Darling“, he said with a charming smile, „come on, you are right, it is getting late.“ He also started packing his bag and you were secretly thankful, because you were sure that as soon as your head hit the pillow you’d be out like a light.
Leaving the library hand in hand, you were thinking about how different dating was here compared to the future. On the day Ginny and Harry found out they were soulmates, they were already making out in an empty classroom by eight in the evening. And here you were, the most action you got was handholding and handkissing after two weeks of this…friendly behavior with tremendous romantic tension. Or whatever you’d like to call it.
But of course for this time this was totally normal, eventhough you guessed that you could be expecting at least a kiss soon, because the girls were questioning you if he kissed you already earlier today.
Arriving at the entrance to your common room way too quick for your liking, you let go of Toms hand reluctantly. „Good night Tom“, you smiled and were about to knock, but his voice stopped you. „Would you…go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow?“, he sounded slightly unsure and it always astonished you how he could be so sure of himself all the time but crack at these things.
„Of course!“, you accepted with a smile on your face, relieved that he did ask you and you didn’t have to worry about it anymore. „Great“, a genuine smile was forming on his face as he stepped close to you, taking your hands in his, „listen, I apologize for not asking you earlier I honestly just forgot that there even was a trip before Abraxas asked me if I am going with you.“
„It’s fine Tom don’t worry about it, I’m glad you asked me though“, you said and he softly kissed your hands and released them. Knocking on the barrel and opening the entrance you turned around one last time. Before you could think about it too much you stepped closer again, kissing his cheek softly.
„I can’t wait for tomorrow“, you said with a soft voice and finally stepped into the common room. Looking back, you saw him standing there unmoving with his mouth slightly open and his hand on his cheek where you left the kiss. And you swear you saw his neck and ears get a little red.
———————
You and Tom were on your way back to Hogwarts after spending the day together in Hogsmead, walking hand in hand and enjoying the silence. You would have stayed longer, but you had to be back at the castle. Honestly it was such a great date, it was the first time you two really had long and in-depth conversation about school and your friends and just about everything. Who would have thought Tom Riddle would be so pleasant to be around? Certainly not you, eventhough you were seeing him almost everday for the last two weeks, you always felt like you were walking on eggshells. Of course you still needed to watch what you said as not to reveal you’re from the future, because you were sure that with even the littlest of slip-ups, a smart wizard like Tom would immediately be suspicious.
Walking into the entrance hall you two came to a halt and you looked up at Tom expectantly, the few other students coming back parting ways too. „Our ways will have to split here, I planned to meet my friends this evening“, he explained and you noticed how he very slightly faltered at the word friends. Your face fell slightly. There it was. You knew this day was too good to be true. Of course he’d have to meet with his followers again.
„Have fun“, you tried to force a smile and let go of his hand. „Now now, don’t be upset darling“, he smirked taking back your hand and kissing it, „I’ll find you tomorrow after breakfast and we can take a walk around the lake before going to the library?“ Your cheeks blushed like they did everytime he called you a petname. „That sounds great“, you told him trying to push back the thoughts about what they would talk about this evening.
He nodded and squeezed your hand before letting you go and you turned around making your way to the commonroom. You could sense him staring at your back and knew he’d only leave too if he couldn’t see you anymore. But before you were out of sight someone called your name from behind you.
„Granger!“, you heard the all to familiar voice of Diggory and eventhough you debated to just ignore him you eventually stopped with a sigh. Since you had to work with him in potions last week he was bothering you about tutoring him. Of course you knew that wasn’t what he was interested in at all, because you sucked at potions. He was smart enough not to chat you up infront of Tom though, he always waited until he was in the safety of your commonroom. Until now atleast.
Skidding to a halt infront of you he grinned down at you a little out of breath. „Yes, what can I help you with Diggory?“, you said with forced politeness knowing Tom was watching you two. „How about I tell you while we walk back to the commonroom, hm?“, he said with a slightly dumbed down voice and you already wanted to run in the opposite direction. But before you could think of an excuse he had already grabbed your elbow and pulled you along.
„Excuse me Diggory, I would appreciate it if you could take your hands of my girlfriend“, a cold voice said from directly behind you two and you were kind of relieved. But did he just call you his girlfriend? Diggory however froze up knowing exactly who the voice belonged to. Dropping his hand like he was burned, you two turned around and Tom gripped your waist before pulling you firmly into his side. Your heartbeat skyrocketed, partly because of the close proximity and the feeling of Toms body pressed against yours, and partly because you were scared what would happen now.
„I would try to keep my hands to myself“, he added with scrunched eyebrows and a dangerously calm voice. Diggory just nodded, obviously intimidated by the tall boy towering over him. Tom gave him one last deathly look before leading me into a bordering corridor and away.
After a few moments of silence Tom finally spoke up. „Was that the first time Diggory…approached you?“, he asked, his grip on my waist not loosening and his eyes sternly pointed infront of us. „Ehm…“, you were unsure if it was smart to tell him the truth, you didn’t particularly like Diggory but you didn’t want him to get hurt either. Tom apruptly stopped and pulled you into a classroom to your left.
Letting go of your waist he leans against the teachers desk looking at you expectantly. „No?“, you told him making it sound more like a question. He only scoffed and rolled his eyes while crossing his arms. „Please, you really are a Hufflepuff with how bad you’re lying“, he let out humorless laugh. Oh love if only you knew, you thought. „Tell me the truth, please“, he asked again, a little softer this time. Your resolve was crumbling rapidly, because who could resist a protective boyfriend, even if he was Tom Riddle.
„Yes he did. We had to work in potions together last week and he has been bugging me about tutoring him“, you sighed, „which is totally unbelievable to begin with because I suck at potions.“ Tom let out a real laugh this time and got up to pull you into his arms. „Thanks for being honest darling“, he said but you doubted this was over for him, „I don’t get how he could be so stupid as to talk to you like that, eventhough he knew you are mine.“ His eyes got that dark and stern look again and he pulled you even closer, so that you were pressed chest to chest.
You just nodded not knowing what to say and looked up into his dark eyes that made your knees weak. His stern look slowly faded and one hand let go of your waist and instead pushed some loose hair behind your ear. The tension between you two was palpable and his hand settled against your cheek. Your hands were laying on his chest and his face was slowly moving closer to you. Slipping down to your lips, his eyes quickly averted back to yours, but you couldn’t stop yours from doing the same when you felt his breath softly skim across your cheek. Oh Merlin, he was going to kiss you, you thought.
But before you could even begin to form any thoughts his voice interrupted the silence. „May I kiss you, love?“, he asked, always the polite gentleman. „Please“, was the only thing you could say and he finally lowered his head - not before giving you a small smirk though.
When his lips finally met yours, your eyes slid shut and the hands on Toms chest gripped his sweater, pulling him closer. Your heart was beating out of your chest and here in his arms it felt like you were in the place that was made for you. He pulled away after a few seconds and you were about to protest when he asked: „Is this alright?“ You opened your eyes looking up into his face, which was a little blushed but also looked concerned, and you thought it was incredibly sweet that he was making sure you were okay with this. You wouldn’t have expected Tom to be that kind of person.
„Yes yes of course it is Tom, just please…“, your voice going silent at the end not quiet brave enough to ask him. „Please what?“, the smirk was back and you knew that he knew what you wanted. You sighed and averted your eyes shyly. „Kiss me again?“, you whispered, and you thought for a second he was going to make you repeat yourself, but then he lifted your chin and softly met your lips with his.
It turned out you were right about Diggory though, because he came into the commonroom a few days later with a black eye and a limp.
—————————
Wohoo new chapter! Btw I’m sorry if there are any mistakes, English is only my second language :) If you wanna be on the tag list lmk! <3
@darkenwolfie
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3 and/or 6 for the ask game!
Thank you so much for the ask!!
3. What is one scene you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all the set-up and context it would need (consider this permission to write and/or share it anyway)?
This is from a planned Dracula/TMA fusion AU (yes, another one) where Jack Seward is the Archivist. The other characters all have their places as well, but the point is that I don’t have to give the context, and I think there’s enough background woven in that it’ll make sense, so let’s just say that this was part of my reaction to loving a particular section of TMA s4 but thinking it would be even better if the person going through it actually had some support. I don’t know if I’ll ever get around to the entire canon rewrite, but either way, I’ll share this now. Here you go!
(The other answer to this question is a proper TMA/Dracula crossover where Jon Sims and Mina Harker are vampires, best friends, and hunting partners. The scene in question is one where they hunt down a victim and feed on them in an extremely polite manner. Juice and pastries are involved.)
6. What character do you have the most fun writing?
Oh, this is a tough one. I love every member of the jailbreak squad SO MUCH, whether they’re the ones I tend to relate to myself (Jon, Mike, Karolina) or the ones who are loosely inspired by or remind me of people I love (Helen, Harriet, Oliver). They all have things that make them incredibly fun to write, but at this moment… I’m gonna have to say Harriet. As a character who does technically exist in canon, but only for about ten seconds in which we learn almost nothing about her, and who I filled in and developed in ways only loosely inspired by canon, she exists in a funny gray area between canon character and OC, and I’m super proud of the way I’ve developed her as a character. She’s endlessly fascinating to me, at least partially because she’s so profoundly unlike me in so many ways—and yet we have enough things in common that I usually very much understand where she’s coming from. I also love writing her because she’s so good at what I can only describe as manipulation (value-neutral)—using her knowledge of people to persuade them to do what she would like them to do. As I mentioned in my ask answer on main, I have exactly zero ability to do this, and honestly I respect and admire the heck out of people who can do it well—especially when, like Harriet, they primarily use it for the benefit of people they care about. (Side note: the Fairchilds sometimes joke that they’re lucky their patron snapped Harriet up before the Web got to her, but the Web probably wouldn’t have been interested for the simple reason that she genuinely has no desire to use that ability to scare anyone.) It’s always a fun challenge to write characters who have skills you very much do not possess. (It’s fun in a different way to write characters who are smart in similar ways to you.) And, of course, she’s just a fun character. Some of her carefree persona is just that, but she genuinely is a cheerful, fun-loving, fairly easygoing person (depending on how you feel about heights, her idea of fun may or may not align with yours, but that’s not her problem 🙂), and a delight to write about.
Thanks again for the ask! Have a great day/night!
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marcholasmoth · 4 months
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OSRR: 3424
i hate getting gas bubbles trapped in my digestive system but i'm so glad i learned how to get rid of them. they can be extremely painful and it'll keep you up all night if you don't get rid of it. i don't like taking stuff for it, so on days when i don't have beans or gas-x or tums i'm good to go. what you really have to do is move. to dislodge the bubble i like to wobble and shake like a weeble until i start to burp. usually it takes me up to an hour to get rid of it, but this time i succeeded in going from "oh, this excruciatingly sharp pain is a gas bubble" to "yaaaaas burps" in only a few minutes. personal best!
tw last paragraphs have mentions of serious illness/cancer
a second tw is placed above the paragraphs where it's mentioned.
anyway, today was a day. i didn't get much sleep because joel and i stayed up late talking about random stuff. it's my favorite thing. i love pillow talk. i expressed my complete and total hatred of john steinbeck's "works" to him.
(can't fucking stand john steinbeck.)
anyway, today was a good day, all in all. i got to give some of the gifts i bought to people and they have so far all enjoyed and loved what i got for them. meredith opened her gift and was overjoyed at having a stuffed rolypoly, and it took her all day to name him. (she named him korg. as in korg and miek from guardians of the galaxy. love that.)
i worked on the pillow i'm making for meredith's mom, and i'm halfway done with stitching the appliqués down onto the face of the pillow.
i also had a meeting with tom.
he asked me if i had thoughts or ideas or concerns and i expressed a lot of stuff, but i think the most important one was that i expressed my anxiety and my fear that i'm not doing well enough, that i'm not doing things correctly and i'm nervous about it all. i expressed that while i'm incredibly proud of my coworkers for doing an amazing job and succeeding, that i felt like i wasn't doing a good enough job. and tom, the true mvp of 2023, said, "i don't see it that way." and he went on to tell me that in his experience in the office that the qualities and traits i have are ones that the best analysts he's seen have. the ambition and the excitement and the willingness to do whatever it is that's asked. most of our team is new; three quarters of us didn't start the year in this job. and tom said that when he started as an analyst, that the people he worked with were all excited to do things and were enthusiastic about it among other things, and that those were qualities that i have, too. he told me that at this point, the 6 months to a year mark, that he starts seeing qualities which define which people will become the better analysts, and he said he sees those in me.
and honestly? i could cry.
tom is the best boss i've ever had. he has a way with words and a way with people and im honestly very impressed that he's younger than i am, but it all makes sense that he's the supervisor for the gsoc and not someone else. i'm so lucky to work where i do with the people i do. they see the good in me when i can't see it in myself. and i love them all for that.
and a few last things before i put this down and go to sleep.
we got olive garden for dinner tonight at my request. i saw an ad on the weather channel and i was like "godDAMMIT" and immediately went "hey joel can we have olive garden for dinner?" (i'm glad it worked.)
tw cancer from here to the end
and i have a friend whose mom has cancer and is going in for surgery tomorrow to remove the tumor. he's scared. please, if you can, send luck or well wishes or prayers or what have you to manifest that his mom will be okay. (i asked him if he needed a hug and he broke down in tears in my arms. he deserves better.)
the number of people i know who have moms who have cancer is significantly larger than it should be. that number should be zero. it's at least two.
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sif-the-tsunami · 3 years
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Ok prompt! Sy is teaching you how to cook and maybe things get frisky ? 😁
Oooo I like this. Its not 100% on the nose but this is where the muse took me.
Did you want a novel? Because, I hope you like novels.
Warnings: chili with beans, sweet cornbread, swearing, smut
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"Listen hear, you chicken fried fuck. If you don't like my cooking, you are welcome to eat something else at the damn pot luck!" I snap at a grumpy retired soldier who was talking trash about my chili recipe. Like always. Whenever we have a party, he has to say something about how I'm dressed, what I brought, or the beer I was drinking.
"All I'm saying here, California, is that where I'm from we don't put beans in our chili. And don't get me started on this abomination you call cornbread. Why is it sweet, why are there vegetables in my bread?" He says in his drawl.
"Because honey and roasted jalapenos taste good together!"
"I guess. You don't need to fuss so much Princess, I'll gladly show you how to make real Texan food. Make some wife material out of you." He smirked. I think he knew he was getting under my skin.
"Come on, Sy, give her a break. Take a bite of her cornbread with the chili, they are delicious together." One of our mutual friends told him when he could see that I was not having any more of his attitude.
I walked away from the conversation, feeling incredibly salty. The man was Syverson, we had been in the same group of friends for the past couple years and honestly he was usually at least cordial with me, but the sheer audacity of his tone today. The rest of the party was really fun, at least. Occasionally, I would catch eyes the color of the ocean after a storm staring me down. He kept looking like he wanted to say something to me but I would find reasons to leave the room. Fortunately there was always a way to get out and around.
Towards the end of the evening, I go outside to enjoy the cooling air and watch the stars, listen to a couple of the guys from inside sit on the tailgate of a truck and talk about football or something. The breeze would kick up occasionally and I could smell an orange tree blooming in the distance.
"Hey, oh shit, I didn't mean to startle you." I jumped damn near out of my skin when the grump showed up out of nowhere. "I actually really wanted to say that I'm sorry, I can be a real asshole sometimes. You are usually more aware of it than others. I'm used to giving people a hard time. Your food was delicious. I just don't know how to talk to you sometimes."
I looked at the large man skeptically. I'm not used to people going from snarky to nice to me. "Thank you for apologizing. Glad you liked it, Chicken Fried. You can just talk to me like anyone else, I don't mind some teasing, but you just know how to push my buttons."
Sy looked at his feet for a moment. "I will be nicer to you, I promise."
"I'm sure." I had heard that before.
"I still think mines better," back to sounding arrogant already, "I am willing to bet that it would blow your mind."
"Do you really want to bet?"
"Yeah... sure. I'll bet you. If my chili it better than yours.... you have to go on a date with me."
"Is that how you get most of your dates these days? Tinder just isn't cutting it anymore?" I tease. He is actually kind of good looking. Sort of. If you are into that hand crafted by the gods kind of look. I'm not saying I am, but I could get the appeal.
"You'd be surprised. Most of the women I meet want to figure out what's wrong with me. Almost 40, never married, I have a job I like. They keep waiting for my skeletons to come out of the closet. Like shit, girl, I just don't like olives or sweet relish. I think I'm pretty cool otherwise." He said talking with his hands out stretched. I think he might have been being earnest with me, but his tone is almost always sarcastic.
"You were in the military, right?"
"Yeah."
"That's what's wrong with you." The big man started laughing harder than I thought he would.
"Well, California. You up for it?"
"I don't know Chicken Fried, I don't like dating, I would really just like something casual, low maintenance. What happens when I win?"
"When?" He chuckles. "If you are looking for something casual and low maintenance, baby, there is a reason when I was still in the Army they called me Captain Cunnilingus."
"It sounds like either way you win." I smirk, "I would need a real incentive to try to beat you."
"How about bragging rights?"
"If I win... you shave your beard. Then I get to use your face as a chair." He looked shocked.
"Fine, when I win, you have to wear a dress on our date, and heels. Maybe even some of that shit you all put on your lips with the glitter and fruity flavors."
"Ok, now that's unreasonable. I don't even own heels."
"I'll buy you some." Well color me impressed. We decide on the terms of the bet. We would invite a couple of friends over to his place next Sunday and they would pick a winner with a blind taste test. We would also have one canned chili and one restaurant chili to make it a little more interesting.
Sunday came, and we all gathered in his house. This was the best batch of chili I have ever made. Fresh peppers, bacon, beer and some good quality beef all swam together in a symphony of flavors. When I walked into his house, the smell was... pungent. I could smell cooking vinegar. It wasn't bad but there was something just a little off putting.
"Glad you showed up, Princess." He looked me up and down. to surprise him just a little, I did show up in a dress. I figured a special occasion needed a special outfit.
I looked over at the big man as he took my slow cooker from my hands and plugged it in for me. To be fair to both of us, we had enough time to set up sides and toppings. I even baked more cornbread. Sy made his own savory cornbread that he pulled out of the oven in a cast iron skillet.
"It was my mama's." He told me when I asked about it.
"You bake also?"
"Sometimes, if the mood hits me. I like making peach cobbler too. If you are lucky, I'll make you some. Maybe after our date."
"So sure of yourself, Chicken Fried. I hope you got some good shaving cream and a new razor, you'll need it." In his kitchen, I lifted the hem of my sundress clear up to my naked hip showing him that I was ready to win this bet of ours. His pupils blew out with lust as he stepped up to me.
"Princess, you are a hell of a tease. I have wanted you so badly ever since the first time we met." He breathed, lusty and hot. He pinned me to the counter, radiating his desire. He bit his lip, looking me up and down, he looked like he wanted to kiss me or maybe consume me whole. Suddenly he pulls away, leaving me breathless. "We will have company soon. I need to walk this off, but I really do want to continue this conversation when we don't have to risk being interrupted."
Before anyone could walk in on us, Syverson rushed up to me and kissed me more passionately. My knees buckle for a second and its like I've been set on fire.
When our friends came into his house, he set up bowls, spoons, Fritos and cheese. He set up blind tastings for the guests, only he and I knew what everyone was eating.
The canned chili was a flop. The restaurant chili was a better batch but it wasn't as good. When our friends tasted my chili, they all keep saying how wonderful it was.
Then we tried Sy's. Everyone was quiet for a moment and then the group started to try to figure out what it was about the chili that we didn't like. It was too sweet as far as I was concerned and there was a weird aftertaste. It was an overwhelming agreement that Sy's chili was terrible. After we cleaned up his kitchen, Sy was pouting about having lost.
"So, when would you like for me to shave my beard?"
"Maybe later tonight. I think we have to finish that conversation we started earlier."
"Oh yeah, California?" He said, standing close to me. He grabbed me by my hips and lifted me to the counter top. I lace my fingers through his beard hair and pull him closer so I can finally kiss him again. He broke away from the kiss and then started nibbling on my neck. His hand found the seem of my dress and he slid his hand up my thigh. When my skirt was pushed up to my hips exposing my sex to him, he leaned me back. I watched him look at my core and lick his lips like a man starved.
"Wait a second. Before you start, what was going on with your chili? Did you throw the bet?"
"No, not at all." He looked at me confused. "I don't know what happened, I've made this a bunch of times and its always been good. This was terrible."
"Did you do anything different?"
"Well. I was out of tomato paste, so I used ketchup. A buddy of mine suggested it."
"Oh my god, Sy. No wonder! Thank god you are pretty, my guy." I tease.
"Your guy? I like the way that sounds. Now lean back, Princess. I'm going to try to convince you to let me not shave."
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arvinsescape · 3 years
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The Princess and the Guard.
A/N: I am so sorry that this took me so long to update, I promise I will update more regularly from now on!! I hope you all enjoy!
This series is not historically accurate and is not intended to be so please bare that in mind when you are reading, I am no real expert on how royalty works (even if I am from England).
This series will contain misogynistic language and views, violence, death and nsfw content. I will always put the relevant warnings into each chapter!
Teaser, Chapter one, Chapter two, Chapter three, Chapter four.
Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, bad relationship with mum (abusive).
W/C: 2.7K
Chapter four:
You’d felt Tom leave the bed an hour prior, the exhaustion from the day before still weighed heavy as you felt him give you a swift kiss before leaving the room. You’d fallen back into a deep sleep when your brother came through the door.
“Mother has chosen someone.” He said in a panic. You jolted from your spot in bed, eyes blown wide at the wakeup call.
“What? No, that’s too fast. How has she chosen someone already?” You ranted.
“I don’t think you’re going to like it.” He smiled sadly at you and your stomach turned.
“Who?” You asked, deep down you knew the answer.
“The Duke, Oliver.” You knew he was going to say it, but the news still upset you, still made your stomach drop somewhere into the centre of the Earth. You felt a few tears spring to your eyes, this was already moving too fast. “I’m sorry.” Harrison sighed, the sad smile still prominent.
**
Annie was getting you ready for the ridiculous meeting you were to have with your mother and the duke.
“Do you ever wish you could have a different life?” You asked as she brushed through your hair, her eyes met yours in the mirror for a short time.
“Sometimes,” she sighed.
“I do,” you said confidently, as she put the brush down as she looked at you. “I hate this life. I wish I was free to marry who I wanted, not have the expectation of carrying on the family name.” You huffed.
“You don’t want children?” She asked shocked, she always thought you did, ever since you were little when you had the dreams of a small princess and a perfect life.
“I do. I don’t know, I just don’t want my children to grow up not knowing what love is.” You answered honestly. “I don’t want them to grow up looking at their parents, who don’t love each other, and think that’s love.” You’d always wondered whether or not your parents shared the bond of love, you were never sure. You wanted your children to grow up without that doubt.
**
You sat there in the meeting room, your groom to be sat across from you as you looked at each other, you barely knew the man. Yet you were supposed to marry him. He slid a box across the table at you, you picked it up, opening it.
“I brought you a ring.” He said, you studied it. It was possibly the most hideously loud ring you’d ever seen. You caught your mother’s eye, and she gave you a stern look.
“Thank you, it’s lovely.” You deserved an award for that lie.
“So, I was thinking of a short engagement. Maybe a wedding by the end of the summer.” Your mother spoke and you had to stop your jaw from dropping, your stomach turning for what felt like the thousandth time that day.
“That’s a month away.” You almost whispered.
“Yes, well, like I said a short engagement.” Your mother said almost mockingly, she was doing this on purpose.
“That sounds good to me.” Oliver said, smug look on his face. Of course he was going to have a smug look on his face, he was to become a Prince by the end of next month.
“Perfect.” Your mother spoke before you could open your mouth. You felt bored again, zoning out of the conversation. You tried to make it look like you were interested but you weren’t doing a great job, your mother had caught your eye a few times, shooting you a look.
“Now all we need to do is sign the papers.” Your mother said, pulling you from your thoughts. Your head snapping to hers.
“What? Why?” You asked in a rush.
“The contract. There’s no going back from this.” Your mother said, smug look on her face. She was very much doing this on purpose you realised.
“Mother, may I speak with you for a moment?” You asked, eyes shooting to Oliver, begging him to leave the room, he seemingly got the message as he stood, taking a bow before exiting the room. “You have no right to decide my future like this.” You snapped at your mother, she furrowed her brows, it was a look you were so familiar with. She was angry.
“Your future was decided long before you were born. You have no choice in the matter, we gave you the choice and instead you behaved like a child.” She said, her tone was firm, she was refraining from shouting you could tell. Your anger had matched hers by this point.
“Why? Because I do not love any of them? I can barely stand the men you have made me choose from.”
“You have a duty, we have been over this.”
“Why does duty have to mean marriage? Why can I not marry someone that I love? What difference will it make? I’ll never be queen.” You said as you went to stand, your mother’s hand shot out, firmly grasping your own, making you sit. Her grip was like a viper’s, it hurt, you felt tears spring to your eyes as she dug her nails into the skin on the back of your hand.
“You will do as you are told. You will stop questioning me. You are an ungrateful little brat, most women would kill to be who you are. Now, I have had enough, you will take that pen and you will sign your name.” She said, firm grip still on your hand, you felt the skin break as a tear slipped from your cheek.
She used her free hand to pass you the pen, you took it into your own free hand and signed the papers.
“May I be excused?” You asked firmly, voice not faltering as you imagined it would.
“Yes. Now clean yourself up and learn to behave. Do not cross me again.” She hissed out as she let go of your hand, you stood, hastily making your way out of the room. As soon as you got out, you let all the tears fall, your hand was in an incredible amount of pain as you examined the damage. It was bleeding slightly, small marks that resembled your mother’s fingernails had made a home on the back of your hand.
You made your way into your bedroom, tears streaming down your face as you collapsed on the bed. Annie instantly rushing to your side.
“Princess? What happened?” She asked as she encouraged you to sit on the edge of the bed with her. “Who did this?” She asked frantically as she examined your hand. She didn’t give you any chance to respond as she disappeared to fetch some alcohol and rags. “Here, let me fix that before it gets infected.” She said as you placed your hand in hers.
You watched as she cleared the blood, wincing slightly as the alcohol made its way into your cuts.
“I hate her. I hate all of this.” You whimpered out, a fresh wave of tears making their way down your face. Annie had wrapped your hand up by this point as she looked at you. “My mother was never the loving type.” You sniffled as you held your injured hand up to her.
“Should I call for your brother?” She asked. You felt lost, felt like you didn’t know what to do, you’d just signed your life away, in one meeting, you’d signed away any chance of happiness you could ever have.
“No,” you said weakly. “I should not bother him with this. I’m sorry.” You whimpered again as the tears returned, you couldn’t help them as they cascaded down your face like a waterfall. Your sobs became ugly as you let out all of your frustrations. You felt Annie wrap her arms around you, she seemingly didn’t know what else to do. This shocked her, she’d never seen you cry like this, even as a child.
You stayed like that for a while as she stroked your back, it was comforting, she’d always been such a good friend and you were happy that you would always have her. For as long as she wanted to work for you, you’d have her. You heard your bedroom door open and snapped your head up, your father stood there as he took in the sight before him.
“Thank you Annie.” Your father said as he dismissed her from the room. He sat next to you on the edge of the bed, taking your injured hand in his own, he sighed. “Your mother is upset with you.” He smiled sadly as you sniffled, tears dying down.
“I just don’t understand!” You let out frustratedly. “You are the King, can you not do something?”
“Like you,” he sighed, “I have a lot expected of me.”
“I don’t want to marry him.” You’d always found your father the more loving parent, when in private he never expected you to speak properly, he was always the more gentle of the two. You never doubted his love for you.
“I know my love, but we can’t have everything we want. Not when we’re born into this.” He said sadly, dropping your hand.
“Mother talks as if it’s some sort of blessing.” You said bitterly.
“Do you know who you remind me of?” He smiled and you furrowed your brows in response. “Me. I never wanted this either.” He admitted, you’d always been honest with each other, but this was the first time you’d ever had a conversation about the life you were born into. The answer shocked you, he’d been brought up knowing he was going to be King.
“What?” You asked, utterly confused.
“Harrison was luckier than you and I will ever be.” He said as he played with his wedding ring.
“You mean?” You asked as you trailed off.
“Yes. I married your mother because it was expected of me. I’d never even met her until the day I married her.” He admitted, sad smile on his face and you felt bad for him, he had been put in the same position you had, and you wondered if it was your father that had been the reason you didn’t marry at eighteen, your mother had wanted you to. You wondered if he’d held off as long as he could, he never forced it on Harrison, he was just lucky to have found someone he loved in time.
“Have you ever been in love?” You asked. Now you knew the answer to the question you’d wondered for years. Your parents didn’t love each other, as you’d suspected but you wondered if he’d ever found love.
“Yes. There was a woman many years ago, a maid. I loved her. Sadly, she passed though.” He said, sad smile on his face. You were shocked by the answer, he’d been seeing someone in private for years and never been caught.
“Did mother ever…” You trailed off, your mother surely would have said something had she known.
“Neither of us have been faithful.” He sadly admitted. “Do you understand what it is I’m trying to tell you?” He asked and you thought for a minute before you answered.
“As long as the public think I’m doing the right thing, it doesn’t matter what I do in private?” You asked and he nodded as he reached out and flicked your nose, just like he did when you were a child. It pulled a smile from you.
“There we go. You and your brother are the only happy thing to come from my marriage to your mother.”
“If you could, would you let me marry someone I loved?” You asked, you had to know.
“Of course I would. I’ve always hoped that you’d be smarter than I was. I’ve always hoped you’d be the one to find a way around it.” He said and you smiled sadly at him.
“The contract is signed, it’s too late.” You huffed out.
“It’s never too late.” He said and you looked at him, you truly loved your father, he was the only parent you’d ever had a close bond with and looking at him now, listening to what he’d just said, you realised just how much you loved your father, just how good of a man he truly was.
“What if I’ve found the man I love? The one I want to risk it all for?” You asked, you weren’t going to tell your father about Tom, but you had to ask.
“Why do you think I’m here?” He teased and your heart froze. He knew. You panicked for a moment, what did this mean for Tom? Was he going to be punished?
“What? How?” You stumbled out in your shock.
“I’m not as oblivious as your mother. I am no fool. I’ve seen how the looks between you have changed over the last couple of months. Be careful, your mother can never know.” He said sternly and you nodded as you hugged him.
You felt hopeful again, more determined as you watched him leave the room. He was saying that you had more control than you thought. As long as you did what was expected of you and was careful behind closed doors you could have what you wanted. You realised that you’d have to let your head lead for a while so you could fill the needs of your heart, you could still have Tom, it didn’t mean it had to end, just that you’d have to be more careful. You wanted to give Tom something that couldn’t be decided for you, something that was his.
**
“You have the night off.” You said to Annie, a bright smile on your face.
“I’m supposed to be working tonight.” She said shyly.
“I’m giving you the night off, go and do something fun, please.” You insisted and she smiled as she nodded. “Before you do go please can you do me one final job?”
“Anything Princess.”
“Please can you summon my brother?”
She did as you asked and within minutes your brother was at your bedroom door, you ushered him inside.
“What on earth could you want so late in the evening?” He asked.
“Where there many guards on your way here?” You asked.
“No. They’ve all been reassigned to help get Oliver’s room ready.” He furrowed his brows. “Why?”
“Can you please send Tom?” You asked and your brother laughed.
“You need to be more careful.” He teased.
“Harrison, please?” You sighed. “I just want to see him, I’ve had a trying day.” You said and Harrison smiled before kissing your cheek.
“Of course little sister.”
Within ten minutes you heard a knock at your door, you opened it, hastily pulling Tom by the arm into the room, he completely baffled at your action as you shut the door before locking it.
“Princess?” He said with raised brows, and you turned to look at him. Your nerves had set in, your palms becoming sweaty. He took note of the look in your eyes and took your hands in his, furrowing his eyes as he saw the bandage. “What happened?” He asked, eyes snapping to your own.
“It doesn’t matter.” You said as you pulled your hand from his. “Tom, I want to give you something, something that’s been yours for a long time.” You spoke more confidently than you felt. His brows furrowed in response.
“Princess, you don’t have to give me anything.” He said, he had no idea what you were talking about.
“I do. I want you to have it, I want it to be you.”
“Want what to be me? Princess you aren’t making much sense.” He said as he cupped your cheek, taking in the frantic look in your eye. “Calm down. It’s just me.” He reassured as he placed a sweet kiss to your forehead. You breathed in a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves as you spoke.
“Tom, I want it to be you that takes my virginity. It’s yours, I want you to have it.”
**
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lavaffair · 3 years
Text
Tongue Tied
Inukag Fluff Week Prompt: Secret/Stolen Kisses
Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33168943
Miroku stared at the half demon with raised eyebrows as he growled impatiently.
“How long does it take for two women to get ready?” It sounded more like a complaint than a question, and the raven-haired man chuckled.
“Inuyasha, this happens every time, why do you seem to forget this?”
Inuyasha huffed in frustration. “It just doesn’t make any sense.”
An annoyed, muffled voice interrupted the men in the living room. “Inuyasha, shut up! Miroku, baby, we’re almost done!” His girlfriend, Sango, called from behind the door. She and Kagome were getting ready for their night out.
A dumb grin immediately appeared on Miroku’s face at the pet name Sango called him. His girlfriend of four years, they have been in this successfully established relationship for a long time. Inuyasha had no idea he would have ever seen his best friend be so loyal to one woman. He was happy for them, no doubt about that, and he was glad there was someone in the world that made Miroku happy.
Miroku was such a huge playboy back in college, and it was not until they both met the girls that Miroku’s main focus turned to Sango. It was an overnight change, a switch that had gone off in his head at the sight of her. Suddenly no other girl mattered, with pointless one-night stands and aimless flirting meaning nothing to the guy.
Back then, Miroku’s mission was to somehow get Sango to agree to go on one date with him, and she would refuse every single time. It was entertaining honestly, and he and Kagome would place bets on the sidelines to see what would happen. The winner would treat the other to a meal of their choice, and the stakes only got higher as Sango’s feelings started to get more obvious.
Eventually, she cracked and agreed to go on a date with the persistent man. They were casual for a while, with Sango being not very confident in how true Miroku was with his feelings. Though, he proved himself every time. And as they spent more time alone together, Inuyasha and Kagome’s friendship only became stronger.
For Inuyasha, it was a big deal, although he would never admit it. He was never great with women, and he was stuck around Miroku most of the time watching him flirt with a random girl every night. He was not the best influence, and Inuyasha was not going to take dating advice from a guy who never took dating seriously.
Kagome was his friend and an incredible one at that. She was always there for him, and he found it really easy for him to talk to her about things he had never told Miroku. At first it scared him; being so open and honest to a person was new to him, but Kagome calmed him. She brought him reassurance and safety, and it engulfed him in a warm aura that he had not felt since his mother was alive. She meant a lot to him, and he was grateful for the events that happened in order for their friendship to grow stronger.
Which, of course, had led them to secretly dating each other for the last month and a half now.
“Aw, baby, they’re almost done.” Inuyasha teased with a shit-eating grin.
Miroku laughed, “You’re just jealous you don’t have a beautiful woman calling you baby my friend.”
Inuyasha chose to ignore the jab and smirked in return. “So I can get whipped like you? I’ll pass.”
The bedroom door clicked open, revealing the two girls who had been hidden behind it dressed to the nines. Sango looked great dressed in dark blue pants that shimmered every time she moved and a halter top with the same color. The top had a crossing design that wrapped around her waist and went underneath her bust. Although, it was the girl beside her that grabbed all of Inuyasha’s attention, and it was incredibly difficult not to make it obvious.
Kagome took his breath away with every second that passed, her wavy raven hair cascading downward and framing her face as if she was a painting. The dress she had on had his body temperature rising at a steady rate. The way the satin material melted into her curves had his heart skipping a beat. It was olive in color, and Inuyasha made a mental note to buy her more clothes in green.
He felt like he was going to die, and he could not do a thing about it except stand here pretending like he was not staring at the most beautiful person in the room. Kagome was having a hard time restraining herself as well, seeing Inuyasha dressed up a little more than usual while still staying true to his comfort and fashion had her mouth-watering.
They had to control themselves. This was not the time. They both agreed to keep this a secret for now, only because they wanted to test out the waters before announcing it to their best friends. As nosy as they were most of the time, it was a miracle that they had yet to find out. The new couple wanted to enjoy their private time together. Besides, it made things a lot more fun. Miroku and Sango would l find out eventually, with it probably being a lot sooner than later since Inuyasha and Kagome were realizing that they definitely could not go back to strictly being friends.
The attraction was there, deeply welled into the ground with no chance of coming loose. Their friendship had blossomed into something they both had not expected, and it took a long time for Inuyasha to come to terms with it before he came clean to Kagome. He was a nervous wreck that day, but so was she, and when he had laid out his heart to her she was right there with him. It was surreal for the two of them, which is why they decided to keep it a secret for the time being. Everything was very new to the pair, as they had not planned on ever falling for each other in the first place.
Quickly, Inuyasha played it off and groaned, “Finally! You guys took forever.”
“Thanks! You look great too. You dress up nice.” Kagome fired back, but he could tell it was just a gimmick.
Sango, on the other hand, rolled her eyes. “It must be so nice to put on a pair of pants and a shirt and call it a day. Maybe even cologne if we’re so lucky.” She smirked, “Kagome and I, on the other hand, love to go all out. We’re hot already, so we don’t have to, but we want to.”
“Yeah, we all agreed we’d go out dressed up for once! We never do this as a group, and it’s going to be fun!” Kagome chimed in. Her smile was contagious, and it was taking everything within him to not launch himself at her and kiss her.
Miroku cleared his throat, “Well unlike someone over here, I think you both look wonderful.” He walked over to Sango and slowly slid his hand down to her bottom, “I think your butt looks great in these pants.” That earned him a slap to the hand.
“Ever the charmer.” Inuyasha retaliated.
“Let me praise my woman in peace.” He said as he feathered his girlfriend's cheek with kisses.
Kagome stuck out her tongue in mock disgust, “Ugh, Inuyasha, let’s go before they decide to bail on us.” She grabbed her bag and walked out in front of him, secretly allowing his eyes to look at her as he followed her out.
Their friends were quick on their tail, and out of the door, finally making their way to Miroku’s car. When they had all sat down inside, Kagome felt around for her phone and realized she had left it inside.
“Wait! I gotta go back for my phone. I left it on the bed!” She yelled.
“Ugh.” Inuyasha complained, “You’re so forgetful. I’ll go with you.” He unclicked his seatbelt to get out of the car, “We can give these two some alone time.”
Kagome giggled and wiggled her eyebrows at Sango, “Have fun. We won’t be long!” She scurried out of the car.
The journey back to the apartment felt endless as the couple felt the tension build between them. As soon as they were both out of sight, their hands met and entangled with one another. They walked in silence, the air felt too heavy between them to spare even one word to one another.
When Kagome turned the key to let them both back into the apartment, Inuyasha's hands were on her quicker than the flash, his lips crashing into hers before she could even get the door closed.
“You little liar.” He whispered into her mouth. “You left your phone on purpose.”
She kissed him back, her arms wrapping around his neck in an attempt to bring him closer. They were both smiling into the kiss as they savored finally being alone together.
“Did I?” She kissed his nose, “What if I actually left it here? You did say I’m forgetful.”
Inuyasha looked at her with awestruck eyes, taking her in completely before kissing her again. “I don’t believe you.” He kissed her face all over, leaving no inch of skin without a touch from his lips.
He left her in a fit of giggles while he continuously kissed her all over, making sure to leave some around the ticklish spot on her neck. “ They're gonna get- haha suspicious if we-“ More giggles, “-Take too long!” She let out.
The half-demon slowed down, kissing her forehead and nose before withdrawing. “It’s not my fault you look so good in this dress.”
“Hmm. If I remember correctly, you didn’t say that when I first walked out.” She teased, “But I do remember hearing you tell Miroku that he’s whipped.” She raised her brow.
Losing the battle, he pressed his lips against her plush ones once again. “Well, he is.”
She laughed, and he took in the beautiful sound. “You sure you’re not talking about yourself?”
He could not take his eyes off her lips, pink and a little swollen from their shared kisses, her big brown eyes, and the freckles that danced on her nose. “Oh no, definitely not.” He lied.
That earned him another giggle from her, and he wanted to keep kissing her so that he could get her to keep laughing. “I wonder who’s the liar now.” She tapped his nose with her finger, earning a little nose scrunch from him. “Now if you excuse me, I need to go get my phone. Sango’s probably spammed texted me by now!”
With one last kiss, Inuyasha let her go into her bedroom to find her cellphone. It was exactly where it was, right on the bed with five texts from her best friend. Although, that will not be the story she tells when they get back into the car.
***
The bar and lounge were packed as any normal bar would be on a Friday night. There were people sitting on the stools right by the bar, as well as the tables and couches that were spaced throughout the room.
The group of four were lucky enough to find a couch with a table and claimed it as theirs before someone else could take it. The music was blaring loudly in the building as the group of friends were figuring out food and drinks for the night. They had agreed on a bar and lounge because clubs are rowdy, don’t have any food, and Inuyasha cannot handle them whatsoever. However, he can definitely handle a bar and lounge. It was a plus that they also sold food along with their drinks.
Inuyasha and Kagome, seated side by side, did their best to fight the urge to hold hands. Unfortunately, they were not seated at a table where they could get away with it. Their hands were on full display, and therefore, could not interact the way they wished they could. Their best friends, on the other hand, were already showcasing their relationship to everybody in the room.
“Alright, what are we getting to eat?” Kagome spoke up, a slight jump coming to her the more she got excited about their orders.
Just as much as he loved to eat, so did his girl, and every time she was able to eat he noticed that she did a little dance in her chair from excitement. She never noticed how often she did that, and he quickly realized how cute it was that she did.
Sango looked through the menu with her best friend, “We have to get wings. I don’t make the rules, I just enforce them, and wings are part of tonight’s menu.”
Miroku laughed, “Babe, get whatever you want. Kagome, the same goes for you. We’ll pay for the tab.”
Kagome scoffed, “You guys always pay! Let us do it for once.”
Inuyasha nudged at her, hoping no one noticed how he poked at her thigh. “Not a chance. It’s not up for debate.”
“Agreed.” Miroku continued, “All you ladies need to do is sit there and enjoy your night.”
Sango rolled her eyes, “We’re paying next time! No excuses.”
Kagome flexed her arm to show off her strength, “We’ll arm wrestle next time and the winner pays! Meaning, Sango and I will pay.” She smirked.
Inuyasha raised his eyebrow, “Did you forget I’m stronger than all of you?”
“Mmm, you wouldn’t dare beat me.” His girlfriend struck back, a playful smile present on her face. All he wanted to do at that moment was kiss it away.
“Haha!” Miroku laughed, “She’s got a point.”
While the girls continued to check out the menu, Inuyasha let his hand linger closer to Kagome’s exposed thigh. It was not much, but to him it was something. This allowed him to remind himself that she was all his and vice versa. They could not be openly affectionate yet, but it was getting harder and harder to hold back.
Once the girls put in their food orders along with everyone’s desired drinks, there was nothing else they could do but wait. The night was still young, and normally the little dance floor in the middle of the room did not get packed until people were drunk. If the girls chose to dance, they would have to wait.
“Alright, so, what are we doing after this?” Sango asked, her voice rising an octave higher to attempt to speak over the music.
“What?” Inuyasha asked, “We’re already at the spot we planned to come to, and you wanna go somewhere else?”
“Inuyashaaaaa,” Kagome dragged on. “Don’t be such a party pooper.” She smacked his cheek playfully, a low growl immediately vibrated deeply in his chest. His girlfriend could not hear it, but oh boy could she feel it, and she was reveling in the effect she had on him.
It was not fair, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to take her away and kiss her senseless again, he wanted to bask in her warmth and in the comforting sound of her giggles.
He already wanted to go home.
He relaxed and raised an eyebrow at her and put on his best-annoyed face. “I’m not a party pooper, Kagome.”
“Au contraire! My friend, you never want to stay out past 2 AM because you’re tired.” Miroku laughed.
“Face it, dog boy, you can’t hang.” Sango teased.
Kagome watched him pout, his annoyance extremely clear on his face, and all she could do was giggle at him. She understood why he hated staying out so late, seeing as how he worked so hard at the shop and knew he was very tired from his job. She knew he knew that they were just teasing him, but he was still going to complain about it.
“Tch. I’m gonna go get the drinks, maybe you guys will get tired after a few shots.” He stood up and made his way towards the bar, his broad back on full display for Kagome to see. She really could not believe how lucky she was, scoring someone so handsome and attentive like him.
Would she admit that it drove her a bit mad that other girls had their eyes glued to him when he walked to the bar too? No, not unless he asked her to. But it did bother her.
Quickly, she shot out of her seat, alarming her friends from her sudden burst. Sango looked at her concerned, and a little confused.
“I’m just gonna go help him out.” She lied. “Four drinks isn’t easy to carry back.”
“Don’t get lost.” Sango called back to her, but it went straight through one ear and out the other.
Kagome sauntered towards the bar, her brown eyes directly on her white-haired target, and smoothly positioned herself right beside him. He was standing beside the long table with no drinks in sight, casually waiting for the bartender with a pout still on his face.
“Baby,” Kagome chimed. “I was just kidding. You’re not a party pooper.”
He did not look at her and decided to keep staring at the fluorescent bottle displayed in front of him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She wrapped her hands around his arm and nuzzled into him, selfishly hoping the women at the other tables were watching. “You look cute when you pout.”
A blush crawled into his cheeks, staining his face red while he tried his best to look like the compliment did nothing to him. “I’m not pouting.”
She laughed again, and it sounded breathless and full of admiration all at the same time. “Do you want me to kiss it away?”
He looked at her eyes, and then at her lips, and back up at her eyes again. Those full, plush, soft lips that he could kiss all day long, for the rest of his life, enticing him to follow through.
“You’re okay with Thing 1 and Thing 2 knowing about us now?” He looked straight into her eyes, making sure to catch any hesitation or discomfort at the question.
“No,” she bit her lip to suppress the grin she had on her face. “Kissing you in secret is always fun, and we can do that anywhere, but I don’t want to hide us anymore from our friends.” She squeezed his arm for emphasis.
“If you’re okay with telling them now, so am I.”
Inuyasha looked down at her, a beautiful pink colored her cheeks at her revelation, and he could not help but smile at her. He kissed her forehead, careful not to smudge her makeup, and grinned. “Babe, get ready to be shown off to everyone. Because after this, everyone’s gonna know about my hot, annoying, and sweet girlfriend.”
She wrinkled her nose at him, “You gonna keep the annoying part in there?”
The half-demon laughed and patted her head. “That’s the part of you that made me fall for you so hard.”
“Drinks for Inuyasha.” the bartender interrupted.
It was Kagome’s turn to pout as the couple made their way back to their friends. With two drinks in each hand, they carefully placed them down on the table and sat back down.
“Inuyasha..” Sango asked, her voice coming off more threatening than usual. “What did you do to Kagome?”
His girlfriend's plush lips were still in a cute little pout, and he could tell immediately that she was trying to get back at him for calling her annoying. They were both messing around with each other as they normally do, but looking at her soft lips and with their previous conversation still fresh in his mind, Inuyasha knew what to do.
“He called me annoying.” Kagome answered, “So, I’m giving him the silent treatment.”
He could not stop his eyes from rolling at her, a humongous grin showing on his face. “Oh, relax, you know I didn’t mean it.”
Kagome’s brown eyes narrowed at him, but instead of looking angry, she looked like she was challenging him. “Hmm, remind me of what you said back at the bar then.”
That was it, the urge to kiss her again was too strong, seeing her so playfully riled up at his antics. She looked so good in this green dress, with her wavy hair cascading down her arms and face, her blushing cheeks that makeup could never compare to, and her challenging eyes that were staring right into his.
It was an instant pull, like a magnet, that led him to immediately latch his lips onto hers. Inuyasha felt her body give a little jolt in surprise, but she quickly molded her lips right against his, the feeling of kissing him was too addicting. She fisted her dainty hands onto his leather jacket and latched on for support while her body turned into putty because all she could think about was kissing him back. One of his large hands lay firmly on the small of her back while the other was caressing her cheek.
If they had a choice they would do this forever with one another and never go back to reality again. But half-demon or not, they both needed to pull apart to get some air. Their chests heaved dramatically while they stared at each other, both of their faces the reddest they have ever been.
“Finally.” Miroku snorted, “I was wondering when you two were going to crack.”
Inuyasha’s eyes widened. “W-what?”
“You guys aren’t exactly the best at keeping secrets, you know.” Sango added.
“Yeah, especially when you guys look like you will jump each other at any second,” Miroku smirked, his eyes flicking back and forth from the couple in front of him.
Kagome huffed, “I figured this would happen.” She could not help but laugh. “Why didn’t you guys just say anything?”
“You placed bets, didn't you?” The half-demon glared. He, too, had his suspicions that their best friends had figured it out a while back, but for Kagome’s sake, he continued with their agreement on staying a secret until later on.
“‘Course we did, we wouldn’t be your best friends if we didn’t place bets.” Miroku’s violet eyes looked into Sango’s, and he smirked. “Also, we both liked to watch you two pretend like you weren’t into each other. It was fun.”
“Keh. Assholes.” Inuyasha scoffed.
“Never mind that,” Sango pulled Kagome in for a hug. “I’m so happy! This couldn't have gone more perfect!”
Kagome was in a fit of giggles all over again, and immediately she was pulled off from her best friend and into her boyfriend's arms.
“Well, guess we couldn’t keep it a secret after all.” The half-demon smirked.
A bright smile that Kagome could not hold back appeared on her face. “Nope, I guess not.”
They kissed each other again, and again, and again. By the time the group of friends all left the lounge, Inuyasha and Kagome looked spent, with swollen kissed lips and a drunken look in their eyes.
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themangolorian · 4 years
Text
look how long this love can hold its breath
Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five
pairing: javier peña x reader
summary: (slow burn/fake married) When Pablo Escobar escalates his war on Colombian law enforcement, the DEA is getting desperate to pin down his location. Reader is forced to go undercover with another agent, one she can’t stand, Javier Peña. Worst of all, she’ll have to try to infiltrate the Cali Cartel while pretending to be Peña’s wife.
warnings: mild language
a/n: i know it’s a generally overdone trope but i couldn’t resist doing my own version of fake married Javi with a pretty antagonistic reader. hope you all enjoy!
You’d been assigned to an undercover assignment of sorts. You were infiltrating the Cali Cartel. Sort of. The mission was simply to gain inside information on Escobar’s whereabouts. To finally bring that hijoeputa down.
The only problem was your assigned partner.
Javier fucking Peña.
You’d never worked with him, but you knew his reputation as a womanizer. His machismo. And, worst of all, he was an American.
You’d encountered him briefly on separate occasions in the briefing room and each time he’d rubbed you the wrong way. He had a habit of talking over you and every other woman in the unit. Well, honestly, him and his partner Murphy liked to talk over everyone but- to put it plainly, you didn’t like Javier Peña.
“What’s the plan?” You asked in your typical no-nonsense way as you joined him and Murphy in the briefing room.
Incredibly, the up aboves had put these two pendejos in charge of the operation.
“Hola amor,” Peña lilted at you with a smirk from his seat across from you, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
You glared at him. “What the fu-.”
“You’re married.” Murphy tossed the manila envelope on the table in your direction, interrupting your outburst.
He knew you and Peña got on each others’ nerves. This was his way of avoiding the inevitable bickering. It was a shitty way of doing so though.
You cursed under your breath as you fell into a chair and swept the envelope open.
The other two were quiet as your eyes scanned the documents.
“Fuck no.” You pushed the papers containing your’s and Peña’s aliases back at them.
Señor y Señora Villalobos. Dealers disguised as diamond salespeople. Married. To each other.
“Told you.” Peña told Murphy, his tone all-knowing.
“Cállate,” you snarled at Peña.
“You first,” he glared back.
“Hey,” Murphy exclaimed. He rested the tip of his index finger on the files and glared at you both now.
“This isn’t a request. These are orders.” He rubbed at his mustache and this time directed his gaze at you. “You either follow the mission or find another job.”
You glared from him to Peña who didn’t meet your gaze, too busy staring at a point on the table.
You threw your hands up in defeat, reached across and snatched the folder then huffed out of the room, muttering all the while. “Estos tontos Americanos vienen a mi país y piensen que tengo miedo de ellos, malparidos...”
Murphy looked from your retreating figure to Peña who was watching you walk away with amusement in his eyes. “What was that? What did she say?”
“She’ll do it,” Peña said, smirking. He stood and picked up his own file. “And learn Spanish while I’m gone, cabrón.”
Peña rapped Steve on the arm with the file affectionately and then he was gone.
Steve rubbed his face again, tiredly, worried that given the short fuses of both you and Peña, the DEA was making a huge mistake.
*****
“¡Apúúúúúúrateeee!” You dragged the word out, tapping your foot impatiently against the brake.
You were in an agency assigned car waiting around the corner from Peña’s flat for the pendejo to come outside so you could start the long drive to Cali.
Finally.
He threw his bag into the backseat then slid onto the passenger’s seat.
“Amor,” he greeted you with a sardonic smile as he slipped his sunglasses on.
“¿Y por qué tardaste tanto?” You ignored the stupid nickname he was no doubt using to taunt you in order to ask him what had taken him so long.
“I couldn’t find the rings.” He held up a shiny golden wedding band, and you saw a matching one already around his own finger.
For a beat you merely glared at the ring as if all of this was its fault, then you were taking it and roughly sliding it onto your own finger.
“Careful,” Peña said as he inclined his seat so he could sleep. “Keep being so charming and all the narcos are going to want to marry you.”
You revved the engine and took off jerkily, turning the volume of the radio up to drown him out.
The trip was a long one. You both took turns driving. Peña kept turning down the radio while you drove so he could sleep, and you kept changing the station while he was driving. You argued over where to eat and what temperature to keep the air at or whether to open the windows.
“We’re supposed to be married, not divorced,” he’d quipped at you once while he was driving after you’d knocked his hand out of the way of your water bottle as you reached for it.
You turned the heater up then, knowing it would bother him, even though you were already sweltering. He left it though, too stubborn to engage you at your game.
Until you opened your window. Then he was slamming the shut off button for the heater.
You glared at him...then- A mansion outside his window caught your eye. You watched it whiz past.
“What?” He slowed and turned the radio volume down.
“You passed it.” You sat back in your seat. “Coño.” You muttered under your breath.
He pulled the car over. When he let the car idle instead of turning around, you looked at him to see him already watching you, sunglasses off.
“What?”
“This is it. One wrong move and we’re both dead.”
You couldn’t believe your ears. You glared fiercely his way. “Are you reminding me how to do my job, Peña?”
He sighed. “Just- I know we don’t get along, but this weekend, we don’t have a choice.”
You rolled your eyes. “Look just because you swooped in from the grand US of A to save all us heathens,” you fluttered your hands mockingly, “doesn’t mean I need you to remind me of my job. I’ve been doing this for longer. If anyone in this car understands what’s at stake, it’s me.” You finished, angry.
“That why you hate me so much?” He asked thoughtfully in a tone so soft you had to look at his face to discern his intent for asking.
He wasn’t glaring anymore. If anything, he seemed curious.
“I don’t hate you,” you muttered but your tone belied your words.
He chuckled. “That’s a good start.” He started turning the car around. “Amor.” He added and suddenly you were fuming again.
*****
The introductions with the narcos and their wives went well enough, better even than you’d hoped. They accepted you as one of their own. It wasn’t hard for you to fit in, you were Colombiana to the bone. Peña on the other hand… But he’d sold it well. Almost too well. This had been your first opportunity at seeing how much he’d picked up during his time in Colombia so far. And it seemed like he’d picked up a lot.
Peña hadn’t been wrong when he’d indicated some of the narcos would take an interest in you. They greeted you both warmly, but their hands enveloped yours tightly and their eyes lingered just a moment too long. You thought Peña must have noticed too, and surely he worried that allowing such blatant flirting would endanger your cover.
That must have been why you suddenly felt his arm encircling your bare shoulders. You tried not to tense in surprise, so much so that you let yourself relax against him in a natural manner. He continued the pretense, kissing your forehead as he made a joke with the narcos about keeping the wife happy.
Inside, though, you were having a crisis and you hoped the look on your face was one caught between amused and loving. A shock had gone through you when Peña’s lips had met your skin. His act was so convincing; how was he so good at this?
You thought back to the first stop you’d made earlier on in the car drive. When you’d gotten out of the car, Peña had whistled softly upon seeing your sundress, warming your cheeks and angering you simultaneously. But he’d said nothing else. And you’d thought on it during the ensuing drive. Normally you wore suits to the office, pants and skirts, but suits all the same. And you’d made a point of never going out with Peña or Murphy. So he’d never seen you in anything else. Against your will, you wondered what the whistle had meant. Not that you cared, but you didn’t need to add one more thing to the long list of things you already had to think about.
You smothered the thoughts. They were distracting and unnecessary and right now you were lucky that Peña was so good at this because he was carrying you both.
As you trailed the narcos out back to sit and have drinks by the pool, you slipped your arm around his waist, needing to carry your weight in the farce and not wanting to have to hear later from Peña about what you should have done.
“Así,” you heard him murmur approvingly.
You dug your nails into his side and heard him grunt in pain.
Your smile then at the wife of one of the narcos holding out a drink for you was genuine.
You spent an hour bantering back and forth with the other couples.
If you didn’t know any better, you would think Peña was happily married in his private life. He played the part perfectly.
As you were both sitting at the poolside table, he would reach over absently and take your fingers in his. The first time a jolt went through you again. But you took the cue. You alternated touches. You would rest your hand on his thigh. You swore he jumped the first time you did that, but he hid it well. He took long draws from your glass. Once he even fed you an olive. If you didn’t know any better, he was enjoying torturing you. He knew you hated olives. But the gesture drew laughs from the men and awwws from the women. It was then you noticed how they were swooning over Peña. It upset you only because you realized that if the pinche idioto was in the position to do it, he’d sleep with all their wives.
Finally and blessedly, your hosts suggested that you two retire to your room before dinner. Peña was to join the other men in Pacho’s office just before dinner for a discussion. You assumed that was when any useful information would be recovered. You realized then that you were here more for decoration than anything.
You fumed as you let Peña lead you by the hand up the mansion’s grand staircase. You both followed the housekeeper who led you to your room.
You dropped Peña’s hand the second the door closed behind you. He gave you a look but then the two of you were scouring the room, searching for any hidden recording devices. You shook your head at him, but he put his finger to his lips and tilted his head toward the bathroom. You raised your hands questioningly but followed him all the same.
He was reaching into the shower and turning it on full blast.
“¿Qué haces?” You hissed at his ear, having to get close to be heard.
“We don’t know for sure it’s clear. We only talk freely like this.” He murmured into your ear, his breath tickling your skin. You shivered involuntarily at the sensation.
You both established that your cover had been bought. And what most likely awaited him at the meeting. You left him to take a shower and went to lounge on the bed.
Several minutes later, the door to the bathroom opened releasing a wall of steam and-
You sat up, glaring, “What are you doing?”
Peña put a finger to his lips furiously. “Adonde está mi maleta, amor?” His sweet tone was a direct contradiction to the furrow in his brow. He shook his head at you, gesturing to his suitcase as if to ask how you expected him to get dressed without clothes.
“Allí, corazón.” You said for show, just in case, glaring at him as he took his time going through his bag to find an outfit. Your eyes tried not to linger on his bare skin and the way water from the shower trickled down his toned back.
You averted your eyes when he turned back, but he was smiling as if he knew you’d been watching him, so you flipped over on the bed to face the other direction.
When Peña left the room with the sound of a fake kiss, you were too nervous to sit still. You had to get ready for dinner anyway. But you were anxious all the same. Your cover could be blown at any second. You stored a handgun under the bathroom sink before getting into the shower and kept an ear out for any strange noises. But nothing happened. You dressed and put your perfume and makeup on. Still Peña was absent. You slid a smaller gun into the holster on your inner thigh and went to join the other wives wherever they were.
They turned out to be in a bar off the kitchen. Luckily already tipsy and talkative. They handed you a drink, but you took only tiny sips as you engaged them in conversation. You struck gold when one of them brought up Tata, Escobar’s wife. They were gossiping over who had a better kitchen. You hung onto every word while providing input as shallowly as possible. Apparently your and Peña’s kitchen was inlaid with marble and dark hickory wood.
Nothing they said gave up the location of the Escobars though and the subject soon turned to jewelry, at which point the women fawned over the diamond necklace provided to you by the agency. Which was your cue to try to sell them diamonds.
Soon enough the staff came in to lead you all to the formal dining room where the men were waiting. They all stood but it was Peña’s face you were focused on.
His lips parted when he saw you and his brow smoothed over. His eyes traveled from yours down along your entire figure. You couldn’t help but get the slightest bit flustered. You avoided his gaze, but he was coming your way to take your hand and lead you over to the seat next to his. It was strange. Surrounded as you both were by actual enemies, it felt like you were the only two in the room. It confused you and irritated you, but you managed to catch your breath again once you were seated at the dinner table. You ignored Peña’s dark eyes on you and took a long sip from your wine glass, trying to focus on the mission at hand.
“Not too much,” you heard him whisper as you placed the wine glass back down.
And there he was.
Underneath the table, you adjusted your feet, “accidentally” stepping on his shoe with one sharp heel.
The curse he muttered in pain under his breath had you smiling as you dove into the conversation, ready to take on a room full of the people who had played the bad guys in your life for so long.
masterlist
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ijustkindalikebooks · 3 years
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This is the last part of my Olympics trilogy, as it was just too longer a list to put into one post - here we go from shooting (smh) to Wrestling. I hope you have been having a great Olympiad!
Shooting - books tend to be about the aftermath, not actually about this I'm finding and honestly it has just led me to articles on gun control and why it needs to happen. Go read this article at The Atlantic 'The Constitutional Argument for Gun Control' please.
Skateboarding - Honestly, I can't wait to see this. Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 4 has so much to answer for, my music taste for one and dammit, I am glad we now have more than Elissa Steamer representing women, she really paved the way. Honestly, this list from Skateism is so good and I highly recommend reading it.
Rock Climbing - I would highly recommend 'The Art of Holding On and Letting Go' by Kristin Bartley Lenz or if you want a classic then maybe give a try 'The Ascent of Rum Doodle' by William Ernest Bowman - a book about some very hapless mountaineers.
Surfing - Dude. I don't know what to put here but I will suggest, 'Girl Out Of Water' by Laura Silverman, if you're from the UK, 'Grey Skies, Green Waves' and 'And One Would Think The Deep' by Claire Zorn.
Swimming - I would recommend a book about the history of Swimming, 'Splash!' which is a history of humanity going swimming and a perfectly fitting book to read while taking in this sport. Michael Phelps would be proud of you.
Table Tennis - You know, thanks to table tennis, China begun a detente with the US? Amazing really. You can read all about it in 'Ping-Pong Diplomacy: Ivor Montagu and the Astonishing Story Behind the Game That Changed the World' - which is by far the most interesting book about this sport I've found.
Taekwondo - I didn't find many books on this subject unless it was teaching you how to do it which I really would recommend going to a teacher to do and then picking one up, safety first. But I did find this really interesting article on the Guardian about Dina Nayeri who through Taekwondo ended up at Harvard after being a refugee to the USA.
Tennis - You can find a whole list of book recommendations on goodreads here, but Annie LaMott's Crooked Little Heart seems to be the most recommended book about tennis.
Track Cycling - Considering how good GB are at going in circles at very fast speeds, there is no fiction about this so far, not even a cheeky little romance. I really find the races exciting, especially Keirin and Omnium and I highly recommend you give it a look if you can during the games, you'll be amazed.
Trampolining - it's an excellent metaphor for things, but I can't find a book about one, unless you include 'Teri, the Trampoline Fairy'. I mean I'm not sure you're a person if you've not got a fairy named after you to be honest. For those who are curious, I'm the violin fairy.
Triathlon - I mean, yeah tough call.
Water Polo - There are books in the goodreads search I now want to unsee thanks to this sport. Just go read 'Sam and The Sea Monsters' and we will never speak of this again.
Weightlifting - I couldn't find many books on this, however I would check out this article on Literary Hub about Oliver Sacks and the impact of Weightlifting on his writing and how sport can impact an author's work. It's interesting.
Wrestling - The Wrestler's Wrestler by Dan Murphy comes to mind. I recently was lucky enough to read this before publishing and it covers an incredible array of wrestlers and brilliant Olympian wrestlers too.
That's the end!
I hoped you got some interesting reads from this and you enjoyed the Olympics, enjoying them!
Vee xo.
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kageruna · 3 years
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✧༺♥༻∞ Thank You ∞༺♥༻✧
Where do I begin......
First off, thank you to EVERYONE who has interacted with my content, talked to me, or is just reading it; I can not begin to express how much love I’ve been feeling just because of this one website called tumblr dot com. The fact that I’ve only been active on this account for less than a month and still got this much support and love is INSANE! Literally how can I possibly express my love and gratitude without passing out because I’m Feeling Too Much. 
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To my followers:
Thank you SO MUCH! The fact that you’re following me, ME, a completely average person who uses too many emojis and spouts nonsense daily is mind boggling. Wh- What have I done to deserve this much love??? I feel like I’m gonna pass out if I think about this too hard it’s just.... thank you so much. You all seriously do not understand how happy you make me. I am in love with each and every one of you.
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To the people who sent in requests:
I am so so sorry that I have only done one! I’m working on the next one right now and I can’t wait to share it! Thank you so much for even requesting in the first place. I never expected people to actually want to request to me (from me?? I don’t know I’m so bad at grammar skdjfw). It means the world to me and I just want to say THANK YOU!
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To my mutuals:
Oh boy I am SCREAMING behind my computer right now. How did I POSSIBLY find such incredible people that want to be my friend and are just absolutely STUNNING AND AMAZING???? How.... How did I find so many people in such little time that want to actually talk to me and just..... interact with me??? How am I so lucky to be with you lovable people that make my day so much brighter??? I seriously can’t believe I was able to spend the last month of 2020 so happily because of you guys. 
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@particleman​
MICK YOU BETTER HAVE ALREADY SEEN THIS COMING. I can not believe we have been close friends for, what, 4 YEARS OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT???? IT’S BEEN THAT LONG?????? WHAT THE FVCK?????? We’ve been close friends for that long but these past few months we REALLY became closer and I’m so glad we got closer. The amount of love and gratitude I have in this little body of mine is incomprehensible and goes beyond logic and anything that you can think of. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THESE GREAT YEARS OF FRIENDSHIP I CAN’T WAIT TO SPEND THE REST OF MY LIFE WITH YOU!!! 💞❤️💕
@sakusbo​
Bo. BO. IT. HAS. BEEN. 10. FVCKING. YEARS. 10 YEARS SINCE WE BECAME FRIENDS. EXCUSE ME WHAT THE FVCK?????? HOW CAN IT POSSIBLY BE THAT LONG?????? I physically can not wrap my head around that. My life would have been so incredibly different without you being there for me my whole life. Thank you for putting up with my bullsh!t for that long. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me and our group. I love you so so so much and would have been a completely different person without you. I can’t wait to see what’s to come. THANK YOU!!! ❤️💞💕
@daikushiji
Eri. ERI. ERI!!!! How...... How was I able to actually become friends with such a lovable person like you. Genuinely. How. I keep thinking to myself how lucky I am to talk to you everyday??? How you supported me when times were tough *cough* finals *cough*??? How you are just so so nice and just..... YOU???? I genuinely can NOT believe I was able to spend this month with you. You deserve the whole UNIVERSE and more. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH WIFEY!!! YOU MEAN THE WORLD TO ME 💞💕❤️
@yamagucji
CUPID!!! You ma’am...... You make me SO incredibly happy all the time. How was I able to find such a lovable and endearing person to become friends with??? The way you make me smile no matter what makes me swoon oh my god. Being in the discord servers with you and being able to help you honestly makes my day all the time and just..... I love you SO MUCH!! I hope we become even closer next year and are able to spend even more time together!!! ❤️💕💞
@iwaisa
ISSA!!! We haven’t talked all that much but from the interactions we’ve had I have grown to love you SO INCREDIBLE MUCH. You are just so so incredibly kind and I absolutely LOVE seeing you on my dash all the time. Your fics are all just so wonderfully written and I enjoy each and every one of them. You are so incredibly talented and just- I love you so much. I can’t wait to see what the new year has in store. I can’t wait to see what YOU have in store because no matter what I’m still gonna love it so much!!! 💕💞❤️
@oyapluto​
PLUTO!!! Your- your energy makes me absolutely SOB I love you so so so much!!! We only talked through asks but the way you so openly showed me love and became friends with me honestly made me tear up. You deserve the whole world and even more you make me SO HAPPY. Thank you for the love you’ve given me, it made me so so happy. I hope we become closer in the new year!!! I love you so much!!! 💕❤️💞
@kitazura​
CHEL!!!! Man.... Your works are TOP TIER. And you, who is so insanely talented, want to be friends with ME, a person who literally spouts nonsense in their works?!?!? How???? You are so nice and such an easy person to love. We haven’t talked much but I can not wait to get to know you more. I can’t wait to constantly shower you in love. Thank you so so much for such a lovely month. It’s been such an honor to be able to spend it with you. I love you so incredibly much and can’t wait to spend next year with you!!! 💞💕❤️
@hikariakaashi​
ARIA!!! You make me so happy whenever I see your icon or your user pop up. You fill me with joy and love and just- It’s so easy to love you!! Thank you for reaching out to me at first, I’m so glad we became friends!!! You’re so sweet and whenever I talk to you I can’t help but smile. I can’t WAIT to talk to you even more and to see what we do in the new year!!! I love you so so much and can’t wait to become even closer!!! 💞❤️💕
@wissbby​
WISS!!! We literally started talking like 4 days ago or something but the way I love you so so so much in just that small amount of time is honestly incomprehensible. How, literally HOW did I fall in such deep love with you with only 4 days of interaction??? Especially yesterday it was SO MUCH FUN talking to you on the server I can not believe I was able to talk to you like this it’s SO MUCH FUN. I love you so incredibly much and will be your housepet if you want me to be KJFIHWW. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!! ❤️💕💞
@lovingtobio​
LILI!!!! How can one person be so kind??? Genuinely. You are just so so nice and sweet and every time I see you on the discord server my heart melts because you’re just so SWEET. I want to shower you in love constantly oh my god. Thank you for brightening up my day and just being yourself. You make me smile so much GAH. I love you so incredibly much and can not WAIT to spend even more time with you!!! 💞💕❤️
@astrooliver​
OLIVER!!! OLLIE!!! I think we only really started talking yesterday but STILL WOW WE BECAME SUCH GOOD FRIENDS??? I love you SO MUCH and whenever I go on there I can’t help but find a huge smile on my face because either you or Wiss or Cupid or Kiki or anyone else will be active and I love that server so much!!! I can’t wait to see what else we do on there and I can not wait for the incredible love and times to come. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH GAH!!! 💕❤️💞
And to all of my other mutuals who I might not have talked to much or at all but I still love very much: @milkywayseastar-lord​, @ordinary-ace​, @whootwhoot​, @kenmaki​, @lcsbianist​ I love you guys so much and I’m so glad we’re mutuals. I hope I get to know you guys more and become friends!!! 💕💞❤️
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Once again, thank you guys SO MUCH!!! This year, or more like this month, wouldn’t have been this good without you guys. THANK YOU!!! SO SO SO SO SO MUCH!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!!
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Its Too Hot in this Five Star Hell Hole (Javier Peña x OC)
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hey all, back again! This time with a Javi fic, and the first smut i’ve written in weeeell over a decade lol. hope you all like it, lemme know what you think!
Pairing: Javier  Peña x OC Warnings: thigh riding (i am shameless), sex in a car (v. uncomfortable, i have stories), daddy kink, fingering, abuse of Oreos Rating: damn, i guess mild M? Word Count: 6046 Summary: There’s a generational gap when it comes to work attire, and Oreo cookies, and she is determined to not find the asshole sitting next to her attractive. She fails miserably.
“Murphy was right you know,” Peña remarked, legs stretched out before him, one arm hanging out of the window of his Jeep, the other draped over his lap. His fingers kept drumming rhythmically on the inside of his thigh and the action had drawn the attention of his companion for the past hour and a half. She was frustrated and wished he would stop.
“What was he right about?” she asked, deliberately looking away from the hand that had again moved closer to his crotch. She looked down at the canvas bag on the floor at her feet and shifted in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position for what felt like the hundredth time since this stakeout had started. She saw her partner’s head turn languidly to face her out of the corner of her eye, his eyes still hidden behind those aviators that he thought were just so cool. She would never tell him that she secretly agreed. His ego was large enough already.
“You look like a college coed on spring break right now.” Peña remarked, mustache twitching up in a tiny smirk. She scowled at her beat up Converse. “I hope we don’t have to actually arrest anyone today- they’ll never believe for a second that you’re DEA.”
“Yeah, well,” she bent down to open her bag and dig around in it. “This is what happens when you call me in to an ‘emergency meeting’ on my day off.” With a quiet noise of triumph she pulled out her prize and shoved her bag further into the foot-well, before kicking her feet (with their beat up black high tops) onto the dash. Peña, still looking at his partner, was torn between staring at her mostly bare legs, now on display before him like some sort of divine offering, or staring at the package she was picking up again.
“Those are incredibly short shorts, Vic,” he finally settled on, eyes bouncing back and forth between legs that had only recently lost their northern, fish belly white color and her lap where she was eagerly tearing open familiar blue foil. “Gotta say, I’m a little surprised- now wait a minute. I have to ask. Did you seriously manage to bring a package of Oreos to this stakeout but not your work clothes?” Vic looked up at him with a grin, hand in the package of chocolate cookies and shrugged.
“Number one: I was already dressed for the day when you and Murphy called me in. This is how I dress normally. This is me. On my days off. It’s literally five thousand degrees here, you’re lucky I even put on shorts THIS long. And I managed to grab a shirt so quit your whining. Jeez, never figured you, of all people, for a prude.” Peña was about to protest multiple things that had just been tossed in his direction when she held up a hand and continued, “And number two: I had just grabbed my mail when you called, so I already had these in my bag. I didn’t make a separate stop.”
Peña blinked at her, digesting this as she pulled out a cookie.
“You got cookies in the mail?”
Vic stared intently at the Oreo in her hand as she slowly, painstakingly, twisted the two chocolate wafers in opposite directions, pulling them apart gently as she did so. Peña watched as the cookies started to come apart before the bottom one shattered and crumbled into four pieces in Vic’s hand. She swore quietly and shoved the mess she had made of it into her mouth and pulled out another one. She examined it closely, twisting and turning it, looking for any cracks or blemishes in the wafer as she chewed quickly. Swallowing, she replied,
“You can sometimes, and I mean rarely, find Oreos down here. They’re normally stale and broken and they generally cost about as much as Escobar makes in a day.” She held a cookie in the palm of her hand and turned to face her partner, offering it to him. He raised an eyebrow at it and took it slowly. She grabbed another from the package and repeated her examination as she continued, “But you can NEVER find the double stuffed ones. So my brother ships them to me. These are mana from heaven, better than any coke, better than any sex you’ve ever had. Honestly, if given the choice between most cocks in the world and a couple double stuffed Oreos, I would take the Oreos no question.” Peña snorted and both eyebrows shot up this time.
“Oh really?”
She smiled at the cookie in her hand, having found no weaknesses that might hinder her mission.
“A dick can be replaced by quite a few things. A real life, fresh, Oreo cookie is one of a kind.” Peña shook his head at her, cookie still in between his fingers.
“Clearly you haven’t met the right cocks.” Vic attempted to pull apart the cookie the same way she had before, with the same results. With an annoyed huff she ate it whole again.
“Wha,” she mumbled around the cookie in her mouth, searching the package for a likely candidate. “You offawin’?” He smiled, twirling his cookie around.
“Maybe after you swallow that thing.” Vic flipped him off. “And that’s my shirt, just to be fair, not yours.” He gestured with the Oreo at the overly large blue button down Vic wore, tails tied at her waist, sleeves rolled up, to hide how comically big it was on her. She looked away from the cookies and down at herself, plucking at the front of it.
“The shirt I have under it is mine.”
“And also especially inappropriate for a meeting with the American ambassador to Columbia.”
Vic rolled her eyes and returned to her mission.
“Whatever. Again, it’s a million degrees here, and the humidity is twelve thousand percent, I’m ripping the sleeves off of every tee shirt I own, Springsteen or no.” Peña was about to take a bite out of the cookie he had taken from her when she gasped, horrified, and yanked his hand away from his mouth. He startled, looking around at the street they were supposed to be watching. He didn’t see anything and was about to tell her so when he turned and saw her glaring at him, holding the cookie up and shaking it at his face accusingly.
“You don’t take a bite out of an Oreo! Don’t you know how to eat a fucking cookie?!” He stared at her, blinking slowly.
“What.” Vic rolled her eyes before quickly yanking the two halves of the Oreo apart and holding up the half that had retained most of the cream, pointing at it with her pinky.
“Cream first! Then cookie! God, how old are you.”
She proceeded to demonstrate and Peña felt his mouth go dry and a bead of sweat slip slowly down his back. With one long steady lick, followed by a few quick hard ones, Vic cleaned the cream off of one wafer before moving to its counterpart and repeating the process. She finished with a smile and a loud smack of her lips, twisting her head to clean off the side of her hand where some of it had smeared. She was about to lean back in her seat before her eyes caught on his hand and she grabbed it, yanking it closer to her mouth.
Peña saw clearly what was about to happen and really did try to protest, but before he could get more than a grunt out, Vic had the end of his index finger in her mouth and he felt her tongue wrap around it, sucking gently. He watched, his breath caught in his throat, as she drew back with a quiet popping noise and released his hand, now clean of any evidence of Oreos. He cleared his throat, still staring, as she stuck the two halves back together and popped the whole thing in her mouth.
“Wike tha,” she said, mouth full, hands reaching again for the package on her lap. She offered it to him with a little shake and smiled when he took one. She turned back to the street before them as he continued to watch her, the new cookie held absently on his lap.
Well that was an unfortunate reaction, he thought to himself, a little surprised at how much he had enjoyed watching the younger woman demonstrate how to eat a cookie like a toddler. That was just obscene- he reached down and tried to stretch out the denim over his crotch. No, not obscene, Peña, you’re just a dirty old man who needs to calm down and get back to work. He shook his head and ate the whole cookie before she could take it from him and do that again.
Next to him Victoria Eugenia Flanagan was panicking quietly, staring determinedly out the window, pretending that she had not just done what she had, in fact, just done. We fucking talked about this, Victoria, she berated herself silently, not seeing anything in front of her. He is your partner, and he’s a slut, you can’t ruin that relationship and you don’t want the clap. Vic sighed heavily and bent down to stow the Oreos back in her bag. Hands to yourself. That was the deal you fucking moron.
They sat in silence for a couple minutes, silence that wasn’t exactly awkward, but definitely not in the realm of completely comfortable either. Peña reached behind his seat and pulled an olive green canteen into his lap, unscrewing the top and smacking her arm with it gently. She shot him a brief smile as she took it, grimacing at the warm metal taste of the water and handing it back. She heard him drinking but dug her nails into her own palm to remind herself that turning around to watch his Adam’s Apple bob slowly as he swallowed was counterproductive to her new goal of forgetting that she had ever deeply and passionately desired to ride Javier Peña hard and put him away still dripping. Not as tall as Murphy, smokes too much, drinks too much, flirts too much, breaks too many rules, wears stupid boots, sleeps with too many hookers, Vic tried listing out everything that should be a barrier to her actually leaning over and sticking her hand down her partner’s pants, but the silence was beginning to become oppressive and it was just so hot in this car and this was supposed to be her day off and she hadn’t had any company but her own hands since she came to Columbia five months ago and-
“What do you miss most about the states?” The question was out of her mouth before she even realized it, and she still wasn’t looking at him. “I miss The Golden Girls. Damn that’s a funny show.” She was going to take her gun out of the holster under her arm and shoot herself in the foot when she eventually got back to her apartment. That would be less humiliating then what she just allowed to come spilling out of her dumb mouth.
“Excuse me?” Peña asked after a few moments of silence as Vic contemplated how long it would take her to physically run the distance back to New York City and never have to look him in the eyes ever again.
“You know,” Oh god she was still talking. There were more words coming out of her mouth right this second and she could not seem to make them stop. “The Golden Girls. The TV show?”
“Was that the one with Beatrice Arthur?”
“Yes! That one! With the old ladies and being retired in Miami and stuff?” Vic couldn’t help it anymore. She had to. She couldn’t just sit here and not for however many more hours they were stuck here. She turned back around in her seat, legs twisting on the dash and faced her partner with a smile. Peña made no attempt to hide the fact that his eyes raked over her, from bare legs, all the way up her body to where both her tee shirt and his dress shirt had ridden up with her twisting about, exposing a not insignificant section of soft skin that hadn’t yet lost its paleness. Vic knew where his eyes had gone, his sunglasses were not that opaque, and she knew that the professional, responsible thing to do would be to yank her shirt down and cover her stomach back up. But the sun felt nice on her skin for now, until it started burning, and she liked that he was staring. She liked that he noticed that she was a woman. That just because she shot a gun and swore and drank beer with him and Murphy didn’t mean she wasn’t subject to the same whims and urges as other women. And apparently the deep seated desire to destroy her fucking career over an emotionally unavailable asshole with a great ass. If that isn’t the height of femininity I don’t know what the fuck is. But this is fine. This is still flirting. Kind of. Mostly.
“I uh-“ Peña cleared his throat, eyes roving slowly from exposed stomach, across breasts and up to her face. He smiled that crooked smile that sent the secretaries a-twitter and leaned further back into his seat, fingers scratching at the steering wheel in front of him. “I’ve only caught a few episodes of that. It wasn’t on for very long before I shipped down here from Texas.”
“You’re definitely a Dorothy,” Vic declared, grin widening as one of his eyebrows appeared over his glasses. “Oh you so are. You’re sarcastic, you’re smart, and you so heroically bear the burden of tolerating Steve and I. Even though most of the time you want to strangle your two gringo partners.” Peña made a thoughtful noise, hand that wasn’t at the wheel coming up to scratch at his mustache.
“Alright fine, who’s Murphy then?” Vic drummed her fingers on her stomach, unintentionally drawing his attention this time. This was better, if she had something to occupy her brain and her mouth she was less likely to offer to suck her partner’s cock and ruin her life.
“Rose. Blonde, a little simple, big hearted, and incapable of keeping his mouth shut,” she replied with a grin, and then laughed as she imagined what Steve Murphy would look like if she ever said that to his face. Peña smiled with her.
Vic thought that that might be the end of that and was a little relieved that nothing too terrible had happened as a result of her inability to just sit still and ignore her unfortunate attraction to the asshole next to her. She had kept her hands to herself this time. She hadn’t said anything ridiculous, she hadn’t thrown herself at him, this was fine.
“So does that make you Blanche by default?” Peña asked quietly, smile shifting into an expression she had seen him use to get forms stamped and women of all walks of life to remove their panties faster.
Turns out it was not fine.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she tried to hedge, sliding her legs off the dash. “I wouldn’t really call myself a Blanche.”
“I would,” Peña countered.
“You calling me a slut, pal? Because I live directly above you, and I’m not sure I can count high enough to put a number to your bed partners this month,” she tried to tease, hoping to get him off the subject of her and on to the subject of whatever local prostitutes he’d managed to lure in with promises of American visas in exchange for information.
“You jealous, Vic? Cause I can always make room for a friend.” Vic snapped her mouth shut, hard, on the nearly instant assent that wanted to come out. She took a few seconds to breathe before countering,
“You couldn’t afford me, Peña. I expect at least breakfast the next morning; some money from Uncle Sam just wouldn’t cut it.” The grin he favored her with was nearly savage in its intensity and she just knew that this game was going to end  with her on her back if she didn’t regain a little more control over this situation. She was starting to ask herself why she bothered to try and stop such an inevitability. They were adults, weren’t they? This didn’t necessarily have to be bad. Right?
He shifted closer, leaning over the gear shift and she heard him draw a breath to say something.
“Fucking hell, look,” he ordered, all business again. Vic turned her head and looked out the window, not seeing anything other than a few mothers with strollers, an old man shuffling in front of an apartment building, and a group of kids playing soccer in the street.
“I don’t…” she shook her head and looked over her shoulder at him, shrugging.
“Right there, behind those kids. The other kids.” Peña pointed over her shoulder and huffed angrily when she shook her head again. He continued to point as he leaned even further into her space.
This was very much not fine.
He smelled like sweat and cigarettes and cologne and that man smell that she was pretty sure was just him. The smell that used to get under her skin and itch and irritate- a sliver of a smell, she could get used to it if she held perfectly still and thought really hard about something else but the second she lost her concentration and jostled it pain and the knowledge that it was still burrowed under her nail went shooting up her spinal cord and into her brain. She hated that smell. She hated what that smell did to her. She hated that she sometimes caught whifs of individual components of that smell on other people, on the wind, in a room and her eyes started searching for him. She hated that after a shootout that smell smothered her twitching nerves and calmed her down. She hated that after seeing another informant turn up dead, body mangled, that smell soothed her long enough for her to get herself under control again. She hated the smile that smell brought to her lips. She hated the heat that smell sent to her insides, the tingling between her legs, the fluttering of her walls.
She hated that she couldn’t even lie to herself. She loved every single one of those things.
This heat had betrayed her for the very last time. This was the last straw, as soon as they caught Escobar she was requesting a transfer to anywhere where it snowed all year round. They had drugs in Canada, right? She spoke French. Canada would be fine.
She had thrown her long hair into a bun this morning to keep it off her neck and to keep it from suffocating her and she had never regretted any decision she had ever made in her life quite as much as she did that one. If she was being honest with herself, and damn this was becoming a habit that she hoped she never indulged in ever again after today, the only reason she hadn’t melted into a puddle of whimpering, overstimulated DEA agent in front of him as soon as his large, rough hand came into contact with the back of her neck, squeezing almost as hard as she wanted it too, was because his other hand was holding her head up by her chin, tilting her face in the direction he wanted her to look. She had no reservations in her mind that she was in control of most of her body and her body’s reactions any longer. Vic was now completely just along for whatever ride her lady parts decided to take with him pressed up entirely too close behind her. Close enough that every time she breathed her shoulder brushed his chest. Every time he breathed she felt it disturb the strands of hair that had begun to escape the confines of her hair tie.
One of those breaths sent a shiver through her entire body and Vic’s eyes rolled a little back into her head. One fist clenched her knee and the other dug into the grey seat underneath her. Every single one of those reactions was noticed and cataloged behind bronze aviators by two dark brown eyes. And Peña tightened the hold he had on the back of her neck.
“Those kids are watching the street and using that radio to let Escobar know which cops are patrolling where. Just like Murphy said they were,” he said quietly, still not relinquishing his hold on her. Even though they had gotten what they had come here for. They could go back to the embassy and tell Murphy he was right. They could plan how to either get around this new roadblock or work with it.
He still was not letting go. And Vic still was not asking him to.
Fuck. Everything.
He squeezed again, gently, rubbing his fingers over the soft skin at the sides of her neck and Vic gasped, hands spasming from their positions of relative safety.
“Tell me to stop, Victoria,” Peña ordered quietly, voice rumbling through her and flowing over her ears from where his mouth was too close to the side of her head. “Tell me to stop right now and we can pretend this never happened and go back to where we were before.” His other hand left her chin and caressed down the front of her neck to her chest, slipping beneath the buttons of her button down and palming her breast through her tee shirt.
She should say stop. She knew this was a terrible idea, if anyone found out she would lose any respect she may have managed to earn for herself from her male colleagues. He would, too. He would stop and he wouldn’t make a big thing of it, they could leave and she could go home and take care of the problem that was staring to soak her panties by herself, as usual, no harm done.
He managed to find a nipple through both tee shirt and bra and pinched gently and that was that.
“I swear to god, Javier Peña, if you stop right now I will murder you in your sleep.”
He tugged her back into him by the grip he still had on the back of her neck and she looked up at him as he pulled his sunglasses off, tossed them on the dashboard, and leant down to kiss her.
His lips were soft. That surprised her, considering everything about the man screamed hard-ass. His mustache tickled her bottom lip as she continued kissing him from this frankly terrible angle, but she didn’t care that her neck was getting sore or that the gear shift was digging into her lower back. Peña held her in place, one hand on her neck, the other leaving her breasts to first deftly unbutton and then untie her shirt, finally burrowing under her tee shirt. She gasped into his mouth, one hand leaving the seat where she had braced herself to come up to the side of his face as his bare hand settled onto her stomach and petted gently.
He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth and her other hand left the seat to hang onto the wrist draped across her, feeling the tendons and muscles contract and relax under his skin as he stroked her, before he finally backed off slightly to allow her to catch her breath, his teeth nipping at her lips as he retreated. He met her green eyes with his, their brown depths somehow darker, and he grinned.
“Those really are some fine tasting cookies.” Vic stared up at him, panting gently, for a few seconds before his words made it past her ears and into her brain. She glared up at him and struggled to sit back up, abdominal muscles clenching under the hand that was still under her shirt.
“You’re an asshole. And you taste like cigarettes.” He was still smiling as she turned all the way around in her seat to face him fully, his hands slipping off of her and landing in her lap where he wasted no time in wrapping them around her waist.
“Good thing I've noticed you like my cigarettes.” She sniffed and looked over his shoulder.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Vic yelped suddenly, grabbing his arms as he took the opportunity to drag her across the car, hindered briefly by both of her legs and the gear shift, getting a knee to the stomach, and finally into his lap. And what a mighty fine lap it was. Vic settled herself onto his thigh, legs folded along side his own, and watched his chest as he breathed, mostly bared thanks to his habit of only buttoning about half of his shirt buttons. She reached up to run her fingers over his neck like she had dreamed of doing pretty much since she had met him.
Or rather, she tried to reach him. She felt the now loose tail of her button down get caught between her seat and the shifter, preventing her from wrapping her arms around his neck. She yanked a few times, before slumping back onto his leg.
“A little help here?”
Peña slid his hands up her back under the shirt and tugged, freeing the pale blue fabric before helping her out of it completely, tossing it onto the back seat behind them. Vic, finally liberated, dove for his lips again, one hand at the side of his long neck, the other tangling in his dark hair. Peña groaned into the kiss, his hands on her ass, squeezing and trying to shift her closer to his body. Vic complied, moving her lips across his face to his ear, and moaning softly when her shuffling put her clit in direct contact with what had to be an uncomfortable erection in Javi’s very very tight jeans. She rutted against him, enjoying his hands on her ass, moving her steadily, his quiet grunts in her ear as she did so, and most of all the feeling of his cock rubbing against her, warm and large through his pants.
“Javi, baby, please,” she gasped, nose tuning into his cheek as he thrust up against her as he brought her down against him. “Javi-” she was sweating in this monster of a truck, and she could feel him breathing hard under her. Vic tried to sit up and slide further back on his leg only to find her back pressed against the steering wheel. She wriggled around, elbow knocking into the car door, trying to find a more comfortable way to seat herself.
“This is a terrible fucking place-” she gasped as he flexed the thigh under her. “To do this, Javi.” Peña’s hands halted her squirming and he asked,
“You want to stop?” She shivered as he rocked her harder onto his leg, her back still pressed against the leather and metal of the steering column.
“That is definitely not what I was getting at.” He ‘hmmed’ and she leant back down for another taste of the cigarettes he had chain smoked during their search for Escobar’s juvenile informants.
She broke away from him and stilled, looking down at his disheveled hair and flushed cheeks. She began unbuttoning the rest of his buttons and Peña watched her, hands still holding on, rubbing and caressing her through her shorts as she worked. Finally able to open his shirt all the way, she dragged her hands down from his pecs down his sternum, and down to his stomach. She kneaded the slight paunch she had uncovered, leaning down again to kiss him, getting used to the scratchy brush of his mustache. She loved the evidence of his older, slower metabolism too often exposed to too much beer and tequila. It softened him up a little, fueled her dreams of cuddling with him on her couch after he had fucked the living daylights out of her. Mostly she just loved the soft skin contrasting with the coarse dark hair that started below his belly button and trailed down beyond the waistband of his pants.
Javi grumbled into the kiss as she grabbed a gentle handful of his tummy fat and rocked herself forward on his thigh. Her movements stuttered as the seam of her shorts rubbed directly over her clit and she cried out softly.
“Fuck girl, that’s it, just like that,” Peña encouraged, hands still guiding her movements, back and forth, head thrown back as her fingers kept digging into his stomach. He pulled her closer so he could lean his forehead against hers and one of his hands made its way to the front of her pants. He kissed her roughly as she stopped moving entirely, distracted, trying to undo his belt without looking. His fingers were deft however, and made quick work of both the button and zipper of her cutoffs, sliding into her panties, and finding their way to her now soaking slit.
Vic whined as he traced two fingers up and down her folds, never stopping long enough anywhere to be truly satisfying.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Peña asked softly, voice low, eyes dark. “What do you need?” Vic shifted her hips, bumping into the shifter, chasing his fingers, trying to get them back to literally anywhere at this point. “All you have to do is ask, I’m right here, ready and willing.” His lips found hers again as his fingers continued to stroke, and she felt like she was going to pass out, trying to breathe through both sensations.
“Javi, please, you have to,” she broke off to try and grab his hand to move it where she wanted it. He resisted. “Javi, please! More!”
“More what?” Her eyes found his and she shouldn't have been turned on by the hard look in them but damn, she loved in control Javier Peña, she didn’t care what that said about any latent kinks she might need to explore later.
“Daddy, please, I’ve gotta cum before we go back to base, you have to- '' her voice failed her as her brain caught up with the words tumbling out of her, that was not supposed to pop out of her mouth, that was supposed to stay buried in the fantasies she used to get herself off, alone, where the man thus addressed would never find out about them. Peña’s eyes widened and she felt his cock twitch under her and she moaned as he finally shoved two fingers into her and curled them slightly, the heel of his hand applying steady pressure to her clit.
Vic keened quietly at the sudden intrusion and stretch, her muscles not accustomed to feeling fingers not her own slipping in and out of her, and her head fell forward to his shoulder. The steering wheel dug into her back, and she turned her face into his neck and inhaled that smell she hated to love. Her hands kept massaging his soft stomach as he ordered, lips against her ear,
“Go on, girl, right now. On daddy’s fingers, I know you’ve thought about it before.” Vic gasped and reached one hand down and held his wrist in a vice grip, holding it steady, his fingers deep inside her cunt, and she rocked her clit down hard onto his hand. She felt more than heard his groan as she sighed,
“Javi,” and came over his hand, walls spasming tight around thick digits. She let go of his wrist and he thrust his fingers in and out again a few more times, riding out her orgasm with her before pulling them out completely, smiling fiercely at the whimper that made its way past her clenched teeth.
“There now,” Peña said, panting, removing his hand from her shorts and making his way to his belt that she had only managed to loosen slightly. “That wasn’t so bad. What have we been waiting for?” Vic watched as he slid the zipper of his jeans down and was about to reach for his cock when the radio on the dash crackled to life.
“Peña? Flanagan? You guys there?” Murphy’s voice floated into their humid world, breaking Vic’s concentration on her partner’s dick inches from her greedy hands, and eliciting a groan from Peña that was far from any of the more pleasant ones he’d loosed in the past few minutes. His head dropped onto her shoulder and he bit down gently.
“If we don’t answer him, he’ll assume we’ve been shot and come looking,” Vic pointed out, out of breath and still aroused, leaning her elbow on the window next to her. Peña’s nibbling teeth did nothing to help the little shocks that still shot down between her legs. “I don’t know about you,” she gasped as he moved from shirt to her bare neck, mustache rubbing where spit and teeth had been seconds previously. “But I would rather not look like you just had your hands down my pants when that happens.”
Javi sighed, mouth still attached to her neck, clearly contemplating how long it would take to fuck her in this car and how far away Murphy and Carillo were from their current position. Deciding that he didn't like the odds, he released the bit of skin he had been hanging on to and kissed the red mark gently. He sat up a bit and reached around her, grabbing the radio, pulling her closer to him and grinding up into her while he asked,
“Whats up, Murphy?” Vic stifled a gasp into his chest as the hard ridge of his cock rubbed against her still sensitive clit, bracing herself against the door and the hard wheel behind her, one hand going to the roof of the truck.
“You guys get anything?” Peña continued to thrust against her and hummed noncommittally.
“Yeah, same thing you thought, with the kids and everything- fuck.” He broke off and hissed as one of Vic’s hands left his belly and dug, nails first, into his side.
“What?” Murphy asked over the line. Peña took a second before answering.
“Nothing.” He halted Vic’s movements, slipping a hand into her back pocket and pulling her back along his lap. “We’re coming back to base now.”
“Alright guys, see you in a few.” Peña tossed the radio back on the dash and stared at Vic, capturing her gaze and bringing his hand up to tangle into the hair that was coming loose from her bun.
“We’re finishing this as soon as we make our reports. I’m taking you back to my place and I am going to fill up that tight cunt till the only thing you can remember is my cock, alright?” Vic swallowed, aware again of waves of arousal making their way through her insides, and the smell of sex in the truck. She nodded, eyes never leaving his impossibly dark ones. Well, you’ve already broken nearly all of your rules regarding this man, whats a little more sex between friends, she thought, eyes flicking down to his lips before meeting his again. She watched his tongue wet his lips slowly, before losing all semblance of willpower and leaning down to kiss him again, already getting used to the scratch of hair on her face.
“I think that's a really good plan, daddy,” she agreed, coming back up for air and lifting off his lap completely, half climbing, half crab walking over the gear shift and back to the passenger seat. She refastened her shorts and looked over to see his cock still straining the denim of his jeans, button undone and zipper almost all the way down. “Might want to do something about that though, Agent Tight Pants.” She gestured at his problem with a slightly smug smile. “Unless you’re planning on giving Murphy a show.” Javi snorted, reaching down to zip and button his pants.
“He wishes.”
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dangan-meme-palace · 3 years
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I realy like your analysis on the kaito-maki-shuichi relationship. So i was wondering who in your opinion has the best relationship dynamic within the cast?
Aaaa thanks! I'm more or less pleased with how it came out :D probably could be shorter though haha
-tech
As for the best dynamic... hmm.
Judging based on what I mentioned in the previous post about strengths being highlighted and weaknesses being dealt with in one way or another and believable emotional bonds that help each other, I'd have to say...
Kokichi and Gonta
For sure, it's gotta be them.
Narratively:
They are canonly a dynamic duo, working together and using their different strengths to help one another in areas the other is lacking in. It feels like they can both truly shine when they cooperate, and that's exactly how it should be.
It's very nice to see them work together because they both bring something different to the table that truly helps the other, and not always in ways you would expect at first glance. The brain and brawn thing is expected, but the extent to which they compliment each other is unparalleled by any other dynamic in the game.
Kokichi -> Gonta
Admittedly, Kokichi does less for Gonta narratively than Gonta does for Kokichi, but to be fair I would expect someone like Kokichi to be the one others help shine, not the other way around. Kokichi, as the Ultimate Leader, is more like the protagonist while Gonta is the supporting character.
For the most part though, Kokichi's narrative role relating to Gonta is to show us that Gonta isn't the happy-go-lucky himbo the rest of the cast thinks he is, allowing us to see that Gonta has depth, specifically that Gonta's morals are definitely different than what one would normally expect from someone with his personality.
The rest is something that relates more to their emotional bond, but for now I'll just say that Kokichi allows us to see Gonta's insecurities, flaws, and dedication to his friends (both the cast and Kokichi) and this improves Gonta's character immensely.
Gonta -> Kokichi
Gonta, as a character, shows us just how human Kokichi can be, especially during chapter 4 but also in little moments throughout the game as well. Whether it be lashing out at the others, being soft (like, so, so soft) with Gonta, his cooperation skills, or the depths of his sadness and loyalty, Gonta drags these reactions out of Kokichi one by one like it's his job, which it is! Narratively, Gonta's job is to allow us to see glimpses of what goes on in Kokichi's heart, something incredibly rare and precious to me.
Gonta also really allows Kokichi's ability to strategize and lead people to shine. Like, really shine. Chapter 4 was the best showcase of Kokichi's talent of leading people, but that's because he had Gonta following him. Any captain needs a crew and any Ultimate Leader needs helpful and supportive followers that believe in him. This goes alongside Kokichi's major weakness throughout the game.
Kokichi's biggest weakness is that he's placed himself into an antagonistic position. Seems smart, until you realize that hes the Ultimate Leader and he just alienated himself from literally everyone, losing any potential bonds/followers he could have made. He shot himself in the foot by forsaking some leadership options when he's the Ultimate Leader. It's the thing he's best at, but he put limits on himself anyway to protect everyone from Monokuma's attempts to break them apart.
He can still get the group to do what he wants, but it takes a considerable amount of effort on his behalf in order to do so. Gonta makes up for that by being the follower that Kokichi desperately needs. Gonta believes in Kokichi enough to go along with both of his plans, to the extent that he still goes along with them even they involve kidnapping and killing the other characters.
There's also the fact that Gonta's dedication to the others might've helped Kokichi decide to keep helping everyone, but I'll get more into that in a bit.
Emotionally:
This dynamic also makes a lot of sense from an emotional perspective. You can actually see why these two outcast characters would want to come together and hang out with each other, and why they view the other so positively: they are each other's ideals.
Kokichi -> Gonta
When Gonta needed a friend and someone to take him seriously/not dismiss him, Kokichi was there to hang out with him, seriously listen to him, and explain things to him that he didn't get the first time. Where the other kids were scared of him due to his size and talent, Kokichi had the confidence to ignore Gonta's natural intimidation and the kindness to hang out with Gonta, despite being so scared of bugs he literally foams at the mouth when they touch him.
Kokichi still regarded Gonta as a friend after that incident though, when most people (justifiably) would've held a grudge and cut him off. Gonta has some very obvious rage issues and reacts pretty impulsively to the things that upset him, but Kokichi is very patient with others, and almost forgiving to a fault at times, so he's willing to stick with Gonta and try and work through their problems instead of abandoning him. This would no doubt be something that Gonta desperately wanted from a friend, seeing as he's very self conscious about appearing as scary.
He loyally sticks by Gonta and readily offers advice, support, explanations, patience, etc... I mean the list goes on. I really do think that his relationship with Gonta is a showcase of how Kokichi would act around someone he really likes, like I'm talking about this being the basis for how I think Kokichi would act around DICE levels of emotional intimacy. I think this is Kokichi at his best, friendship wise. Especially because even during events that take place outside of the main story we never see Kokichi act this way around anyone else, even with the people I would also consider to be his friends (mainly Miu, but also sorta with Kiibo as well.)
They didn't know each other for long, but if you really look at it, it's plain to see that Kokichi really valued Gonta as a friend. I mean, I dont think someone who yells about wanting to live during his FTEs with Kaede would willingly offer to give his life for (no discernable goal) for just anyone y'know? Plus, throughout the game, he uses some of his friendliest and softest sprites during his conversations with Gonta. Even visually you can see their bond.
It's a very subtle relationship when compared to some of the more overt pairs throughout the game (aside from some key moments in chapter 4) but it's there, and honestly I can think of very few characters that share this close of a bond in the whole series game.
They actually kinda seem similar to Aoi and Sakura in a way, but somehow they compliment each other more... damn.
Gonta -> Kokichi
Likewise, Gonta also became Kokichi's friend and didn't seem to mind the lying at all, something that means a lot to Kokichi based on his Harmonious Heart Events, because it means that Gonta doesn't want to be friends with someone different, he wants Kokichi, lies and all. This is Kokichi's #1 wish.
I think that meant more to Kokichi than anything else, because this is his way of life. He leads with lies, he plays with lies, and he protects himself with lies too. He wants to keep lying and Gonta not being bothered by that is literally the exact thing that Kokichi yearns for in the best ending for his HHE.
Gonta also caught on to the times that Kokichi was extending olive branches and accepted him. It's subtle, but Kokichi did try and befriend people as long as he could do it without having to change himself and Gonta was one of the people that responded to that positively. Gonta readily befriended Kokichi, probably understanding first-hand what it's like to be an outcast because of misunderstandings and personality traits.
This is why Gonta's death (especially since Kokichi felt like he was fully responsible for it, despite what Gonta said) was so traumatic for Kokichi and why he reacts so negatively to it, he lost someone he never thought he would ever meet in the first place. More than a few of his dialogue lines have him imply that he's used to being hated for how he chooses to live his life and that he expects this kind of treatment from people, so finally finding someone who won't hate him for that and then losing that friend so quickly with his own plan had to have hurt immensely.
Going off that, Gonta is the one to convince Kokichi to remain friends with everyone and try his best for them despite how they treat him, and he also desperately begs for the others to do the same thing for Kokichi. He knew he was leaving Kokichi alone, and he wanted to try and protect him.
While the other members of the cast don't seem to remember this or care much about it after the whole "I'm the mastermind" bit, we do see Kokichi trying to protect the group after chapter 4 by trying getting rid of the motive to leave (therefore "ending" the killing game by making sure no one plays it) and by trying to remove Kaito, who has shown himself to be a harmful influence.
I think Gonta's words really got through to Kokichi, and while it did unfortunately lead to Kokichi dying for everyone's sake, Kokichi might not have tried to save everyone if it hadn't been for Gonta's last wishes. Why would Kokichi want to help people that actively hate him and bully him if not for the pleading of his greatest friend in the game telling him to keep protecting them.
In a sense, Kokichi during chapter 5 fulfills Gonta's original wish to be useful and protect everyone even at the cost of himself, with Kokichi doing exactly that.
Interested?
If you asked me for moments that I feel showcase their bond nicely so you can get a feel of it for yourself, I'd point you towards the dialogue they share during the 4th trial investigation and their meeting before the Insect Meet and Greet was very nice (you'll have to read between the lines for the former though!) If you want to see what I'm talking about, I would definitely recommend rewatching those. The moments prior to Gonta's execution are also always a good look at how much they meant to each other.
If you're really interested, I'd also recommend watching through their bonus content (LHEs, FTEs, HHEs, etc) and thinking about how their desires are reflected in each other, it's interesting to think about at the very least.
TL;DR?
Overall, they have an amazing, yet unsung, dynamic between the two of them and I would like to see more people recognize it. It's very brief and doesn't have a lot of story time, but it feels more meaningful than any of the "main" dynamics in the game with 10x the screentime. It has substance to it. It's satisfying and gratifying to watch.
It also makes fucking sense, unlike a particular dynamic that takes up a majority of the fucking story for nOTHING–
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all1e23 · 5 years
Text
Astrophile [Epilogue]
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Chapter:  Epilogue 
Summary: Happy ever after has a few surprises. 
Warnings:  Astrophile fluff & and so much romantic Bucky.
A/N: I can’t believe it’s over but here we are! Okay, it’s not totally over because we still have Astrophile Files. Thanks for hanging in there with me. 
***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**
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July 2021 – One year later
“It’s right, Buck. She’s the one. We’ve all known it since she came to family dinner that first night. Everyone was just waiting for you to catch up.”
 Bucky holds his hand up to the bartender, silently asking for another beer and a glass of water for Y/n as Steve continues right on pestering him. Right here in the middle of their friend’s wedding reception. Maybe it’s attending a wedding that makes people lose their minds? This is the first proper wedding Bucky has been to, and it didn’t take long for him to realize it makes the wedding party and the guests a tiny bit nuts.
“Drop it, Steve.” Bucky drops a few bills into the glass tip jar resting on the bartop – anything to avoid having this conversation with Steve for the twentieth time this month. Steve looks down at him; mouth pressed in a thin line and disappointment pouring off of him.
“I thought you learned your lesson? What are you waiting for, Bucky?”
Bucky pauses at Steve’s question. He didn’t know honestly. They have been dating for a year now, and it’s been good. That’s a lie. It’s been amazing, fantastic, unbelievable – it’s been the most incredible year of Bucky and Ori’s life. Y/n fits right in like she’s always meant to be a part of their lives. She makes every day brighter. She makes him better, a better man and a better father. She helps Ori with homework and school projects like she’s thrilled to do it and the kicker is, she actually is. She hasn’t missed one of Ori’s practices (because Ori picked up the violin over the last year and Y/n didn’t even flinch when the at-home practices started). And the best part of it all, Y/n’s home for dinner every single night because as of six months ago she moved into Bucky’s brownstone.
The only nights Ori spends away from home now are when Bucky takes Y/n on a date which he endeavors to do once a week. Some weeks they don’t make it out the front door, but even if they end up eating pizza on the living room floor, he makes sure Y/n knows how lucky he is to have her. Bucky doesn’t know if there is such a thing as heaven but he’s got a feeling this is the closest he can get to it here on Earth. He’s determined to spend the rest of his life, making sure she never regrets choosing to spend all of her tomorrows loving him.
Bucky truly has no idea what he’s waiting for, he’s had the ring for months now, and Bucky even knows how he’s asking, but it’s not time. The moment has to be as perfect as she is.
“It’s gotta be the right moment, Stevie. I’m waiting for the right moment.”
The table a few feet away catches Bucky’s attention. Peter Parker, a teenager interning for Tony, is sitting on a tiny chair next to Ori with a perplexed look on his face. Peter leans forward on his elbows, watching Ori color on the table cloth at her designated spot at the kid’s table with fierce determination to make her picture better than the boy’s across the table. He is trying to find the best way to ask a six-year-old something that’s been confusing him since the ceremony. Peter only met Mr. Stark a year ago, so he is still trying to get to know everyone, but he thought it was just Ori and her dad. He picks up the crayon Ori abandoned on the table between them and decides he is merely going to spit it out.
“Hey, Ori? Who was sitting with your dad?” Peter asks quietly as he helps her fill in the castle printed onto the fabric in front of them. Tony thought it would be a good idea if the table cloth at the kid’s table were a giant coloring book; entertaining for the kids and parents get to relax. He was right. The kids love it – Peter included.
Ori doesn’t look up from what she’s coloring and tells him. “That’s my mom.”
The crayon in Peter’s hand freezes, and he looks at Ori, thoroughly and properly confused now. Yeah, he doesn’t know every member of each family yet, but he does know that Ori’s mom left right after she was born.
“Uh, your mom, Ori?”
Ori drops her dark blue crayon back into the pail sitting in the middle of the table and finally looks up at Peter long enough to roll her eyes – that’s all Uncle Sam. “Not the mom who left me when I was a baby. My real mom.”
Bucky knows he shouldn’t be eavesdropping on his daughter, but she looks so cute coloring and days like these are getting fewer and fewer the older she gets. So, yeah, he is spying, and he didn’t feel bad about it until that confession. Bucky doesn’t know whether he should faint right there at the bar or ask Y/n to marry him without a ring in the middle of Tony’s reception. He pushes the glasses in his hands into Steve’s chest, forcing him to take them and places a kiss to Ori’s forehead with a resounding smack. She giggles and ‘wipes’ the kiss from her forehead.
“Daaaaddddy!” Ori whines, half serious and half playful.
“Comet!” He says, matching her whine and grinning while he does.
Now, Bucky has someone very important to find.
He scans the crowd of people, close to five hundred showed up for the big day – not that Bucky had expected anything less from Tony, but it isn’t making finding his better half easy right now and he is itching to get his hand on her. He catches sight of her powder blue knee-length dress, covered in silver, shimmery stars and his heart starts to beat a little faster. He navigates his way through the crowd towards her; his one and only.
This morning she had panicked over her outfit for tonight. The dress was too much. The soft blue fabric revealed too much skin with the sweetheart neckline and the sheer fabric littered with silver stars covering her chest and arms made it overly fancy she had said. Bucky had stared at her for a long time when she came out of the bathroom. He was speechless. Yeah, he’s seen her dressed up before, but she wasn’t his then. This was different. He finally couldn’t take it anymore and pulled into her a kiss that nearly ended with the dress torn and crumbled in a pile in its new home on their bedroom floor.
When he pulled back, flushed and nearly breathless, he told her it didn’t matter what she wore. He assured her she was going to be the most beautiful woman in the room regardless of what she picked, so if she wanted to wear the dress, then she should wear it. He was right because, shit – she looks so damn beautiful right now.
Y/n is intently listening to Sam’s tales about Oliver and how bad teething is actually going – regardless of Steve’s sunny optimism on the subject. Bucky overhears the tail end of their conversation, “You’ll see soon enough. Wait till you and Buck have to deal with a screaming baby at four in the morning after he’s been on a forty-eight-hour shift.” If his brain wasn’t short-circuiting from the last conversation he spied on, he would probably examine this talk more, and by examine he means inquire exactly what Sam had meant by soon enough.’
Bucky grabs Y/n’s waist and spins her around capturing her lips in a fiery kiss ignoring the eye roll from Sam. His left hand splays out on her lower back, keeping her pressed firmly against him as his tongue sweeps along her lips only to pull back right as her lips part. She narrows her eyes, and he chuckles, giving in to one more kiss, softer and sweeter than the last.
“Dance with me.” He whispers into their kiss, gently tugging at her bottom lip as he pulls back and walks them back to the dance floor. She doesn’t have much of a choice it looks like – not that she would have said no. The night is coming to a close, and they are down to slow dances only, trying to wind the crowd down, and she would love nothing more than to end the night in Bucky’s arms swaying to I can’t help falling in love with you.
Bucky’s hand tightens around her waist, keeping her pressed securely against his chest as they move around the dance floor. He cradles the hand that should rest on his left shoulder in his own, resting them against his chest. She has no idea what came over him, but she’s not going to bother trying to find out when he’s holding her like this.
“Did you have a good time?” Y/n asks just above the music. Bucky meets her eyes and raises his brow as if that was the silliest question she’s ever asked him. Surely, she knows the answer to that, but he can play along if that’s what she wants.
“‘Course I had a good time. I’m here with you.”
Oh, boy. 
“Smooth talker.”
Bucky chuckles and kisses her lips chastely, squeezing her hand as he does. Y/n sighs happily as their lips part, and she adds, a bit of longing behind her words that Bucky did not miss,“It was a pretty wedding, though.”
Bucky nods in agreement and looks around at the bright red and gold glimmering everywhere. Pearls and diamonds in the flowers, hundreds of candles all over the place, a cake that is nearly taller than Steve and glittery table cloths. There’s even a freaking chandelier in the middle of the tent – they are in the grass for crying out, but Tony has a chandelier.
“A little flashy for my taste but it’s all right,” Bucky says truthfully, looking back at her. The wedding is gorgeous, but it’s nothing close to what he sees when he thinks about marrying the woman in his arms.
“Pepper looks beautiful,” Y/n says eyeing the strawberry blonde in her Justin Alexander ivory gown, clinging to Tony’s arm as they made their way around the cathedral tent, stopping to chat with their guests and thanking everyone for coming. Bucky never looks away from Y/n. He doesn’t need to. Pepper might look beautiful today, but she’s no Beck.
“She’s got nothing on you, sweetheart.”
Y/n grins and shakes her head, trying to hide how flustered she’s getting from such little work on his part. It’s not that she’s not used to it. Once they were official, she learned just how much Bucky had been truly holding back. He’s constantly touching her, always whispering in her ear and trying to make her knees weak. Bucky tries to get her squirming every chance he get, and it seems he can’t stop today. It might have something to do with the kiss he just gave her. Or maybe the one in the limo on the way over (Tony insisted they take a limo) or it could have been the heated makeout session in the shower before they got ready.
Something has him all worked up, and she wants to know what.
“What is with you today?”
Bucky grins, tightening his hold around her waist and dips her unexpectedly. Her giggles fill in the softer notes of the melody, and Bucky lowers his head towards her as if he’s going to kiss her, but instead he whispers, “I’m hopelessly, desperately in love with you. I can’t help it.”
Y/n smiles and lets out a soft, ‘I love you, too’ and Bucky knows she’s trying not to get teary-eyed in front of everyone. He pulls her back to standing, letting her arms settle around his neck this time, he asks, “you think you ever wanna have one of these with me?”
The question gives her back some of her equilibrium and her brow arches, fingers playing with the loose strands that have fallen from his bun as she finds her voice.  “I hope that’s not how you’re asking me.”
Bucky chuckles, and she leans her head on his shoulder to hide the emotions twinkling in her eyes – he’s too good at reading her, and she wasn’t ready for him to catch on just yet. He places a kiss on her head and wraps his arms around her, gently guiding her around the dance floor.
“No, that’s not how I’m asking you. I’ve got somethin’ else in mind for that day.” He whispers against the shell of her ear. He can feel her grinning against his neck, and her breath tickling his skin as she assures him, “Just so you know; however, you ask, I’ll say yes.”
Bucky tightens his arms around her but doesn’t respond. He didn’t think there would be another answer, but hearing it laid out made that ring in the top of the guest room closet a hell of a lot more real. Ori comes pushing through the couples on the dance floor, ditching her dance with Uncle Steve to share one with her parents. Bucky bends down to scoop her up and settles her between them. Y/n places a kiss to her cheek, and Ori lights up in response.
“Did I miss it??” She asks, looking back and forth between them.
Yn pulls back enough to see Bucky’s face and gives him the ‘are you kidding me’ look. Bucky barks out a laugh and shakes his head, “I don’t know what she’s talking about, babydoll. I swear.”
“No, Y/n, did you tell daddy yet?”
Y/n’s eyes go wide as they have a silent conversation – it’s clearly something that’s only between girlfriends, and that’s not always a good thing when it comes to these two. Bucky groans at the thought and settles them both with the best stern dad face he has in his arsenal. 
“Okay, what trouble did the two of you get in? What did you do and what do I have to fix?”
“Nothing!” They say in unison, and Y/n continues, much calmer and still very suspicious.  "We were thinking… maybe you could ask Steve to paint a mural in the guest bedroom? Something with the stars. Sparkly and pretty, maybe?”
Bucky frowns, and the frown continues to deepen thanks to the giddy expressions on his girl’s faces. It was just a painting. What’s the big deal? Something is up. 
“Yeah, I can ask him. It doesn’t have to be me who asks, you know? He would say yes if you asked him, sweetheart.”
“I know that,” Y/n’s fingers tighten around the fabric of his black dress shirt. “I thought you might want to be the one to tell him the news when you do.”
“News?” Bucky’s face twists into something she doesn’t recognize, and it takes everything in her not to fall apart from laughter.
“Actually, we have to redo the whole room. Don’t we, Ori?”
“Yep! With lots of stars and comets and constellations!”
“Get rid of the bed–”
“Yep, no bed.” Ori agrees and adds with a shout, “and rocking chair!”
“Of course, and that old dresser has to go. We need something smaller, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, and maybe a pink one!”
“Or, blue,” Y/n offers but Ori wrinkles her nose and Y/n settles her with a fond, yet scolding expression and Ori reluctantly nods her head.
Bucky shakes his head and comes to a halt, stopping their dance right there in the middle of the floor. He’s completely and utterly lost. “What are you two going on about? Painting and rocking chairs and a pink dresser but not a blue–” Bucky freezes, and his eyes snap up to meet Y/n’s who’s no longer holding her tears back.
Holy shit. He had not been expecting this.
“You mean?”
“Oh, yeah, I mean.”
Bucky smushes Ori between them and sets an attack of kisses on them both, ignoring the tears catching in his lashes. This is the moment. This right here and he’s not letting it slip away. He ends the attack with a kiss to Y/n’s lips and whispers, “Man, I’ve got a really important question to ask you when we get home.”
“Pinky promise, December?”
He grins and swears right back, “Pinky promise, Beck.”
Previous // Masterlist
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laimdalen-itellam · 3 years
Text
Getting to Know the Inquisitor
Basics
Name: Ma'aravel Lavellan
Age at the start of their game: 24 (Born 12 Bloomingtide, 9:17 Dragon)
Gender: Male
Sexual orientation: Bisexual
Race: Elf
Class: Warrior (temporarily); Rogue
Height: 5'3"
Weight: 118 lbs
Eyes: Hazel
Hair color/texture: Auburn; Straight
Skin tone: Peaches and Cream
Do they tan or freckle?: Tanning? Not so much. But he does have plenty of freckles, mostly bunched up on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose
Any distinctive physical characteristics?: He has a full face of olive green Mythal vallaslin
Personality
Personality type: INFP-T
Optimist, pessimist, or realist?: Probably an optimist, but clueless and naive might be better words for it
Best traits:
Kind
Open-Minded
Pure-Hearted
Loyal
Attentive
Worst flaws:
Impressionable
Naive
Unassertive
Soft-Hearted
Insecure
Tropes that apply to them:
Amnesiac Hero
The Chains of Commanding
Closest Thing We Got
Dream Walker
Everyone Calls Him "Barkeep"
Expecting Someone Taller
Frontline General
Go and Sin No More
Hearing Voices
Hope Bringer
Humble Hero
I Am Who?
Manchurian Agent
Messianic Archetype
Nice Guy
Oblivious to Love
The Only One
Power Palms
Red Baron
Reluctant Warrior
Right Man In the Wrong Place
Save the Villain
Sole Survivor
Spanner in the Works
Survivor's Guilt
Touched by Vorlons
Undying Loyalty
Unique Protagonist Asset
Unluckily Lucky
Unwanted False Faith
Weirdness Magnet
Are there any songs that particularly suit them?:
"I Don't Remember" by Peter Gabriel
"Stop This Train" by John Mayer
"Being Good Isn't Good Enough" by Barbara Streisand
"Do Something Good" by Darryl Worley
"With A Little Help From My Friends" by The Beatles
If yes, would they agree with your selections?: I'm not sure he'd know how to answer that, honestly
Preferences
Favorite color: Green
Favorite animal: Halla
Taste in clothing: Whatever's comfortable. He does really like the outfits he's seen Solas and some of the Dalish elves wearing, though
How do they feel about mage rights?: Shouldn't all people at least have the right to freedom? He doesn't understand segregation or prejudice of any kind
How do they feel about the other races of Thedas?: They seem nice enough. There are some humans that don't seem to like him, and that group of Qunari did try to kill him, but he knows better than to think a few individuals are representative of their whole population
Are they religious?: In a way. He definitely was before the Conclave, but then the amnesia hit. Solas retaught him many aspects of his culture and religion (with his own opinions coloring said lessons), and he has come across countless evidence that the Dalish gods exist, so he doesn't see why he shouldn't believe in them again
If they were to find themselves in a modern AU
Favorite food: Ice Cream
Drink order: Mudslide
What would they wear for a night out?: An untucked blouse or button-up, some pants, and a pair of boots
Song(s) that would be sure to get them on the dance floor: None that I can think of
College major: Forestry or Natural Resources Conservation
Ideal date: Getting food, watching a movie, and cuddling
Favorite movie and/or film genre: Maleficent; Fantasy
Family/Friends/Love Life
Relationship with their parents: Lavellan's father was a city elf he never knew, but his mother was more than enough. She was kind and gentle and raised him lovingly until she fell deathly ill. The two of them returned to her clan, so that she knew her son would be cared for once she was gone. Sure enough, the clan kept him safe and healthy, but he was never shown even half the love he'd become accustomed to under his mother's care
Siblings (outside of canon): N/A
Best friend(s): Cole, Iron Bull, and Sera
Companion(s) they get along best with: Dorian, Solas, Varric, Cole, Iron Bull, and Sera
Companion(s) they get along worst with: Vivienne
Companion(s) from other games in the series you wish they could meet, and why: Merrill. They're both adorable sweethearts who were ostracized by their clans, so I feel like they'd get along pretty well
Age of sexual debut: Around 18 or 19
Romanced: Dorian (RPs won't go beyond an awkward date or two with anyone else, and not even that once he's started to date his vhenan)
Relationship status as of the end of Inquisition: Long-distance partners
Are there any songs that particularly suit their romance?:
"Crazy for You" by Madonna
"Teenage Dream" by Katy Perry
"Love Is Beginning" by Imaginary Future
"Your Arms Feel Like Home" by 3 Doors Down
What are they like as a romantic partner?: Eager and willing to please. Also, incredibly cuddly and doting
Do they enjoy cuddling?: As mentioned before, yes! He will take every opportunity to be as close to his vhenan as possible
Do they want children?: He hasn't really thought about it
Do they (now or eventually) have children?: Probably not
Skills
Can they cook?: If asked to. He's made some stews and roasted meats in the past
Can they sing/play an instrument?: No instruments, but he can sing slow songs pretty well. He has a hard time sticking to the beat on faster ones
Are they a good dancer? If not, do they do it anyway?: His only experience dancing was at the Winter Palace. He stumbled a bit at the foreign movements with Florianne, so Dorian let him rest his feet on his own during their later reconnaissance to avoid spoiling the mood
Do they have any creative hobbies?: No
Any martial training beyond their main weapon?: He used to use daggers or a shortbow, and eventually he went back to them, but on his first outing after the Conclave, he just picked up the nearest weapon, which happened to be a longsword he had to hold with both hands. Assuming he didn't know how to fight at all, he was taught the basics of the weapon by a few of his companions
Languages spoken: The common tongue and Elvhen
Any other unique skills they'd like us to know about?: None that he can remember
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ask-crimson-weaver · 3 years
Text
Dangerous Waters
Melly still wasn’t sure what exactly had happened. Well, perhaps some part of her did, but with the scattered state of her thoughts, it was nigh impossible for her to think back over and string things together in any meaningful order.
She remembered showing up to Fort Tilden with the Cobwebs, and she had sensed Oliver as they approached, along with four other sources of danger. They had moved in, and a fight had started, with her facing off against Oliver. But at some point… her memory lost focus. That crawling, writhing sensation had wormed its way back into her mind-- hadn’t they undone that spell?-- and her coordination had slipped. At the time, she had had enough sense to try and retreat, but with her steps unbalanced, he had caught up quickly, catching her and dragging her down into the dark of… wherever they were.
She could tell that she was in a small room now, dank and cold air filling the underground space. At this point, the name wasn’t important anymore, seeing as her mind’s focus was drawn to other things. Every dark corner had the potential to hide danger, and every crack and chip in the concrete walls was just another space for some twisted, unfathomable thing to stretch outwards from. The paranoia from before had been straining, though manageable, but this time she felt like it was completely overwhelming her. On top of that, her spider-sense kept going off at unknown things as she had been dragged past them, and now its scream of warning was focused on the figure of green energy and metal that had a clawed arm clamped around her.
“You still think you can get out of this?” Oliver said, a smirk on his face as he watched Melly kick at the air with her still-free legs. “It’s admirable, if not pointless. I mean… all that work, all that searching and fighting… and look where you are now. At my complete mercy. And my associate’s, I suppose. I’m looking forward to watching you as she… feeds you to her Patron or whatever. In any case, it will be one less little Spider that I have to deal with.”
Melly only really took in about half of what he had said, the induced fear and confusion driving most of her thoughts. She could feel it drawing out her spider instincts, which urged her to escape and hide, and for once, she was inclined to do just that exact thing, though the former would have to be done before the latter of the two. She stared back at Oliver with glowing red eyes-- her mask had come off early on, back when she had still been near the others-- and she began to grunt and hiss in her frantic, paranoia-fueled attempt to break free. Where she felt her own strength make headway against Oliver’s arms, more green-tinted metal crept up to mend and reinforce it.
“I suppose it’s sad, in a way,” Oliver continued. “You and your ‘friends’ always talked about all of the great things you had done with your Shard… and even with that, here you are, writhing like a child with a tantrum. Honestly, I could just-- oops!”
The claw of Oliver’s arm suddenly opened, and gravity jerked Melly downwards, causing her to smack into the floor. Not a moment later, though, she had scrambled up onto her hands and knees, making a break for the nearest wall in an attempt to scale it. She’d only made it a handhold or two upwards when Oliver’s tentacle darted out again, clamping down on her leg and pulling her back over. There was a loud crack as two fist-sized chunks of the wall were pulled along after her, dropping off of where they had stuck to her hands.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Oliver said, sarcastic and unapologetic. “I just get butterfingers sometimes, that’s all.”
He’d pulled Melly off the ground again at this point, though this time she hung upside-down by the leg Oliver had grabbed. He lifted her higher, so that her face was just about level with his.
“Now, where were we?” Oliver said. “Ah! I was just about to further emphasize the true depths of your--”
He found himself cut off as Melly’s hand swung up, launching a spray of webbing directly at Oliver’s face that soon solidified from its glowing state into an angry red color. Oliver stumbled back, growling as his eyes flashed green with a surge of rage. The arm holding Melly snapped to one side, releasing her and sending her flying through the air. The far wall cracked as she collided with it, knocking her breath out of her as she dropped to the ground-- it hadn’t been enough to hurt her significantly, with her energy welling up to help her take the blow, but it still hurt.
“You think that was funny, Spider?” Oliver hissed at her, bolts of metal from his assimilated mass curving up to cut the webbing away. “You think that you’re still able to--”
At that moment, Melly could feel a different arm wrap around her and yank her away off the ground. Even in her state of mind, this tendril that held her in the air was definitely not one that belonged to Oliver. It was far more slimy… with that distinctive energy of the Writhing One spiking all around her. She managed to catch a glimpse of Oliver’s associate: it was the exact same woman she saw in her mind. 
 “Juice Man, remember what we agreed on? I’d like our dear Weaver here to stay alive for the time being,” Odyssia sighed as her other tentacles undulated in the air, “I know she’s a Spider and all and she could probably take a lot more punishment than your average Joe, but I’d like to keep her just functional enough so I can properly study her.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I wasn’t intending to kill her before you had your chance to do your research, if that was your concern.” 
He re-oriented himself, lifting himself off the ground with his tentacles. 
“I suppose there will be more time to gloat later-- do what you want,” he added, waving one of his upper arms dismissively. “I wouldn’t dream of interrupting another Octavius’ studies without good reason.”
“Right,” she replied, before turning to face Melly with a fascinated smile, “While I may have learned a lot from information that I’ve kindly been given access to… there is nothing like being there to study something up close and personal.”
With that, she swiftly took Melly away with her into a new room somewhere deep in the bunker. From what Melly could barely make out, this room looked like a makeshift laboratory that didn’t look out of place in a horror movie. Strange organs and other loose body parts were compartmentalized in various containers. Tables covered in glassware and arcane books, drawers filled with various equipment, several aquarium tanks filled with unfamiliar sea life… coupled with the darkness, the debris that speckled the floor, and the cold, musty air, this place hardly looked sterile in any way. 
Odyssia brought her over to a stolen hospital gurney and laid her down onto it, using her tendrils to hold her down as her human hands began to strap her down with the restraints. 
“You know, you’re pretty lucky as far as my test subjects go,” Odyssia rattled off to her. “Between you and me, most people who get this treatment from me personally are looking at a new, monstrous form in their future. But, you… I’m having a feeling that you’re definitely not a lobbyist who tries to shut down environmental protections for their down lines… or some fuckwit politician who spews misinformation to spark irrational fear or hatred in people… or some idiot who doesn’t ‘believe’ in science and would much rather trust in some pseudoscientific homemade ‘remedies’.”
Odyssia snorted at the thought. 
“You know, Weaver, we never really spoke to each other in person, but I know you are brilliant in your own right,” she continued as she tightened the restraints, “It’s a real shame, though. Your Shard is an incredible source of power. And such power rightfully belongs in the hands of the Writhing One. Unlike Juice Man, this isn’t personal for me.”
Melly had kept up her kicking and fighting all down the hallway, and as Odyssia tightened the restraints of the gurney, she kept straining against them with as much force as she could muster. This room was full of danger-- spider-sense easily told her that-- but as the hallucinations made the dark corners deeper and the creatures and scattered parts more monstrous, a swarm of paranoid thoughts started to close in on her.
She’s going to hurt you. She’s going to make you writhe and bleed like all the others. She wants to take what is yours, and what is you.
Somewhere, deep in Melly’s mind, her coherent self managed to reach through, and she renewed her effort to fight the spell’s effects and push back against the mental flood of the Writhing One’s influence. Her brow furrowed, and her glowing eyes started to flicker to and from an even stronger crimson hue as she made her effort.
“Get… it… out…” she managed to mutter, voice strained through both panic and effort.
Odyssia adjusted her glasses, examining the glow of her eyes with increased interest. 
“Well, if I did that you’d fight back. Besides, seeing you manage to power through this from sheer force of willpower is something I’m far more invested in. If this is what one Shard is capable of… I wonder what an entire Prism could accomplish,” Odyssia mused, her demeanor going still to aid in her observations. “Not many people can just power through my spells like you’re doing right now. Not only does that require an insane amount of mental resilience but the magical prowess to accomplish this is just as an extraordinary feat.”
Odyssia, of course, already knew where such mental prowess and willpower had come from-- at least, it was easy to assume from the memories she had gleaned from Melly. Her soul torn out, fighting for control of a body that wasn’t hers. Both mind and soul shattered by a creature of dreams, pulled back together by both Shard and friends. Her fights against Brevi’s control, her mother’s attempt to change her memories again, even against the toxic shards that had leaked from Itzi’s blade, poisoning her all those months ago. She had fought hard to keep herself her, and she would certainly defend it with all of her strength.
Melly squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the twisting room around her as she pushed harder and harder to bring herself back, each push feeling like she was dragging her mind through thick ink. A few flickers of red light raced upwards along her neck, fading just as quickly as they had appeared.
“Get… out,” she repeated, voice a bit stronger. “Get. Out. Of. My. Head.”
Once again, as Odyssia allowed herself to dive deeper into her pursuit of knowledge, that one memory of Melly’s mother kept nagging at her. She furrowed her brow in frustration, this time having her tentacles come in to hold Melly down further. 
“I can’t! I-I won’t! This is my breakthrough! This is for the Writhing One,” Odyssia hissed at her. “Don’t make me make this have to hurt.”
“You’ll... hurt me. Either way,” Melly mumbled out. “Change my head. I can’t… I won’t… let her. You. Anyone. Break me again.”
Odyssia grimaced slightly as she stared down at her. 
Go on. Why aren’t you choking her or something? She’s not going down without a fight, Odyssia was starting to wrestle with herself. Prove her wrong. You’re smarter than her. Don’t let her win. 
Unconsciously, a tentacle began to entertain the idea of wrapping around Melly’s neck. Just as it was about to constrict her, Odyssia realized what was happening and quickly pulled it back from her neck. A sinking feeling in her stomach began to take hold as the internal debate within her mind set in. 
Why did I do that? I’m not supposed to kill her! 
“... T-This is my last warning, Weaver. You need to understand that I’m being far nicer than I could be. I could be breaking you right fucking now but guess what? I’m holding back on you! Want to know what breaking you could look like? I could’ve turned you a monster, make you feel what it’s like to be at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, or take you apart and dissect you but no, I’m giving you the chance to make this easy. Don’t throw it away,” 
Melly was quiet for a moment. Realistically, there wasn’t much she could do in her current condition to fight back against anything worse than what she was dealing with now… but to stop fighting would be to spit in the face of all her prior triumphs of self. Her thoughts were still jumbled, but if there was a way to get things to where they could talk.
Melly’s head turned towards Odyssia slightly, eyes opening to look directly at her.
“...all of that… is that really what you want to do?”
Odyssia froze, for the briefest of moments. She turned away from Melly, running her hand over her face. 
This is what you want to do. 
But why was she still fighting herself on this? She forcefully pounded her fist onto the gurney, cursing underneath her breath. 
“Of course it’s what I want to fucking do… Why would I continue to do this if I didn’t?” Odyssia mutters although her tone suggested that she was beginning to struggle. 
“Want...” Melly said, pausing for a moment as she tried to put a solid thought together. “We want… things. You want things from me. I want to stay me. There’s want… but there’s need too. All of the hurting… is that what you need to do?”
“You… Y-you’re just saying that to get out of this,” Odyssia replies as she shuts her eyes, still refusing to look at her, “Why would my needs matter to you?”
“Because if you need it… and you can choose it… you will. Would’ve.” Melly said. “I can’t make you do anything. Can’t make you…” Melly trailed off for a moment, shutting her eyes for a moment as she had to pull her focus back in. “But… I can fight. Or I can talk. And you… do you need… want to fight? Or do you want to talk? Which will get… what you need?”
“Alright, alright, stop right there. I… I cannot continue this if you're going to talk to me like that. I am barely getting by with following this conversation,” Odyssia groaned as she runs her hands in her messy hair. She turned to face Melly, making direct eye contact with her before continuing, much more quietly, “Tell you what: if I… lessen… the spell’s effects to at least let you speak coherently, you’re going to stay right there and not move. Then I’ll let you talk. If you try to pull the wool over my eyes, I will get mean. Got it?”
Well, though Melly certainly couldn’t make any guarantees that she wouldn’t eventually try to escape… for now, it was the only break she was probably gonna get, and her own mental resistance would only get her so far before exhaustion won out.
“...I understand.” she said.
Odyssia rubbed her forehead, already feeling a headache coming on from the tension in her body. Slowly releasing a deep breath, she closed her eyes to focus on something. 
As she did so, Melly began to feel that Eldritch presence dwindled… not enough to release her from paranoia or the sickness she had felt, it was just enough for her to at least think a bit more clearly. Melly let out the breath she’d been unconsciously holding as the strain on her mind lessened, and took a moment to recollect herself-- man, it was good to be able to think mostly clearly again. The observing Odyssia would be able to see the red glow in her eyes recede, and though it was still present it no longer burned with as much intensity as it had been.
“You wanted to talk? Then talk,” Odyssia said coldly, although there was a slight hint of wanting to know what Melly was going to tell her. 
“Look…” Melly began, “this whole thing with the Shards… What exactly is your end goal for all this? And you mentioned the Prism too… if you’ve been in my mind, you know that I’ve already done the rounds with someone who wanted to do the exact same thing you mentioned. And you know what happened to him when he tried it.”
Odyssia would indeed know who Melly was talking about-- Alexander Hobbs, aka the Beholder. She knew he had tried to control the Shards in a bid to access their combined energy… and she knew that it was what had ultimately killed him, the energy he sought burning him away to nothing.
“The Shards aren’t for me to use. I told you, this is for the Writhing One. I know those Shards are clearly not meant for a mere mortal to use. That’s why I’m giving it to my Patron. They don’t abide to human limitations,” Odyssia said, “I devote myself to the glorious Writhing One. Without it, I’d go back to being some repressed, pathetic shrinking violet who can’t fucking stand up for herself or the causes she cares about. So to show my gratitude, I must give back.”
Melly was taken a bit aback by some of what Odyssia had said-- it seemed that there was some baggage behind what course she had chosen to take. Even with it catching her notice, though, she wasn’t sure how Odyssia would react to having it be brought up here and now.
“How do you know if it can use them?” Melly asked. “With all due respect to the power and influence they do have in this world-- which, as you’re aware, I’m currently the subject of-- how do you know that they’ll be able to harness the energy of the Shards. Energy Weaver said they couldn’t alter or control it. The Being said it was out of their jurisdiction. The Palpitors-- they were willing to kill us when we encountered them. Wouldn’t it have been easier for them to just kill a wielder, take their Shard so that one of their Nobles would have access to an unlimited amount of energy? Why else would they have not done that, if not because they couldn’t claim it? Look, what I’m saying is that there’s things about the Shards and how they work that neither of us know. Would you take the risk of sending a Shard to your Patron without knowing what effect it might have? How would they react if what you gave it harmed them?”
“...To act like I know everything regarding my Patron’s full capabilities is to indulge in pointless hubris,” she scoffed, “And either way, you grossly misunderstand how Patrons operate. Patrons—unless some astronomically universal level apocalyptic circumstances occur—never leave their realm of magic. If they did, there wouldn’t be a need for them to bestow an incredibly tiny fraction of their power to mortals like me to do their bidding, right? If they want something, they’ll have people like me to accomplish what they need us to do. This is something they’ve been interested in for a while now. And who am I to object to the Writhing One’s wishes? While I can’t pretend to know how exactly they will deal with whatever a Shard brings… what I can tell you is that they’re approaching this with curiosity and they know the risk; after all, they know what I know.”
“And what you know is what I know-- I’m presuming that’s why you went rooting around in my mind in the first place,” Melly countered. She thought for a moment, deciding that pushing that point further wouldn’t do any good. “Okay… new question. If they never leave their realm of magic, how exactly are they planning on using my Shard? Are you intending to magically mail me to where they are so they can get at it or something?”
Odyssia chuckled at that, “That’s a very crass way of putting it but, essentially, you’re right. I am going to send the Shard directly to them.”
“‘The Shard’,” Melly repeated. “The way you say that has a very conspicuous lack of me included in it.”
“What? You want me to send you in there as well? I highly doubt that you’d be interested in being in the grand presence of the Writhing One. Honestly, I thought the way I planned was more humane, not subjecting you to such unspeakable terrors,” Odyssia laughed. 
“And your plan is… to kill me?” Melly asked. “Or try and remove it yourself? Because I have experience with that second option, and I’ve gotta say… hard pass.”
“It’s worth a try,” Odyssia sighed, coming down from her brief amusement, “And if I can’t remove it without killing you, well… I suppose that doesn’t leave many options for me, unfortunately..”
“Well, even if you do get it out without killing me... I’m still gonna get a one-on-one with the Writhing One,” Melly said. “The whole soul thing, remember? You pull out the Shard, and my soul comes with it. The whole point of sparing me is kind of moot there-- doubly so, considering that Ollie would have no problem killing me without the Shard there to do its thing. And obviously, you don’t seem inclined to kill me if you can help it… which I appreciate, even given my currently unfavorable circumstances. Other than that…”
Melly did think of a third option, but even thinking about it made her blood run cold. One of the Writhing One’s things was manipulating minds, right? If so… what was stopping them from just brainwashing her, or something similar, to try and control the Shard through her?
In a nervous gulp, she swallowed her words, glancing away from Odyssia as she hastily tried to think of any alternative thing to propose-- the more time an option gave her, the better.
“... Were you going to say something there?” Odyssia asked, “And before you do, I’d like to at least thank you for being appreciative. At least you’re more engaging to speak to than any of the previous people who once were strapped in here just like you. I generally hear the same boring, mundane things from people who end up here… In a strange way, I’m almost glad that I gave you the chance to talk,” 
Gee, I wonder why everyone else was less engaging, Melly thought to herself, not thinking further on that. Better to keep those mental images at bay.
“Have to appreciate the little victories, I suppose,” she said, words both sarcastic and sincere. “Punching and the like isn’t always the best way to solve things in the hero biz-- sometimes trying to talk through things first can go a long way. Never hurts to try, I suppose.”
Melly went quiet, debating whether to bring up what she had meant to say. Odyssia had clearly heard her odd pause, and she wasn’t fully sure whether or not she would be able to tell if she was lying or not.
“And… yeah, guess I thought I had something to say,” she said. “Wasn’t anything good, though.”
“... Yes,” Odyssia muttered. 
… Why did she sound so much like Amari just now? Nononono, I can’t let myself think like that. I can’t let myself see her in the Weaver or I’ll really be in shit, Odyssia thought to herself, now actually beginning to feel worried, Goddamnit, Odyssia, stop this right now. You can’t afford to do this. 
“... And what makes you think that?’ Odyssia said, trying to avoid thinking further on her realization. 
“Because it’s something I’ve had people try to do to me before, in one way or another,” Melly said. “And I doubt I’d be able to do much about it if it’s what you or your Patron decide to do to me, hence my aversion to bring it up.”
“...Let me take a wild guess,” Odyssia began, if a bit hesitant herself, “Are you trying to appeal to my humanity in some way? As if you knew anything about me? I mean, you’re welcome to try it. I will at least humor you.”
“Wasn’t really expecting it to be an appeal-- in the regard of me getting out of this, at least,” Melly said. “You don’t seem like the type to be easily convinced to change your mind when you commit to something-- Ollie was the same way. The point being-- seeing as I’d rather not go through something involving that again, I’m refraining from bringing it up as an option at all.”
Melly wasn’t sure how many of her non-Shard memories Odyssia had gleaned, or if she had come to the conclusion of what she was meaning by her words-- it was entirely possible that she’d be able to put the pieces together if she had all of them. For now, though, she sat tight and hoped that that would satisfy her.
“... Fair enough,” Odyssia replied, although something about the way she said this made her tone waver a bit. “I have been described as ‘ride or die’, I suppose. But make no mistake—and don’t tell Juice about this—I’ve come to understand that aside from tenacious tendencies… we don’t really have much in common. Consider this food for thought.”
“Juice?” Melly said, amused by the apparent nickname. “And… yeah, I think I’ve noticed that— and that’s coming from someone that knew him before all of this Shard business.”
“Long story,” Odyssia replied cheekily, “In the nicest way possible… did he always have a stick up his ass? Was he born with it? Because I’ve worked with many people and I have to be honest, he’s not the most fun person to be around.”
“Well…” Melly said, thinking of where to start. “He was always a bit stuck-up, but he knew his tech stuff— was in classes with someone I know. I think he’d been doing the Ock stuff behind the scenes for a while… not that I ever picked up on it. Kept that hidden up until I had already handed the Green Shard over for him to claim. Was originally hoping that he’d be a part of our team, but, well… you’ve seen where he’s ended up in that regard. In hindsight… it was pretty dumb of me to hand it over to anyone, whether or not I trust them. I was new to the hero stuff, and definitely more naive than I am now with a few more years under my belt. Sure, I may wield a Shard, but after that, I don’t think I’m qualified to be the one that decides who stuff like that gets handed out to.”
“Hmm. Sounds like someone I know,” Odyssia commented to herself before replying to Melly. “I suppose I could relate to you hoping someone you care about would join you.. but that’s besides the point. Probably wasn’t anything like what you went through anyhow, considering that the one I’m talking about is… a much different person from him, let’s say.”
“That’s fair,” Melly said. “Even with the similarities… there’s plenty of differences more often than not, especially between dimensions. I guess the whole mess— the Shards getting involved and all— sort of make ours a bit of a unique case, at any rate.”
Melly paused, thinking something over.
“You know… how did you and Oliver end up coming across one another anyway?”
Odyssia chuckled at that. “It is in my best interest not to be a snitch. I might be more amicable towards you than most people that find themselves on this gurney, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll spill everything about myself or my whereabouts. Nice try, though.”
“Eh, it was worth a shot,” Melly said, shrugging. “Guess you’ve got to be an Ock to get in on all the secret Ock meetings… or however else you two ended up meeting.”
“Well, I’m sure you can come up with your own conclusions, considering that you somehow managed to start working with Spider-Glass,” she sighed as a tentacle of her stretches out to reach a clipboard and a pen on her desk. 
“I suppose I can, yes,” Melly replied-- like Odyssia, it was probably in her or the other Spiders’ best interest not to go into detail on how that came about. Her eyes followed Odyssia’s tentacle as it reached over to the desk. Despite all of the pleasant conversation, she had to remind herself that she was on borrowed time. The Spiders would probably come after her eventually, but without a solid sense of how long it had been since was brought down here, she couldn’t be sure how much longer it would be before the others returned. The longer it took, the more time there would be for Odyssia to start trying things.
Odyssia, while not wanting to press further on how the two met, there was something on her mind in regards to her own spider. She took the clipboard and pen and began writing her observations on Melly down as she continues to speak. 
“Speaking of… what are your thoughts on her, exactly?” she sincerely asked with no trace of joking around or cheekiness to her tone. 
“What?” Melly said, admittedly caught a bit off-guard by the question. “She’s, uh… nice? Good teammate, good… all-around person?” She wasn’t exactly sure what Odyssia was trying to get at with that question, but knew it was better not to give specifics away freely.
Odyssia considered what Melly said for a moment. There was a gleam in her eye and a satisfied smile crossed her face as a subtle sense of pride exuded from her. 
“Yes, she always was… I don’t expect anything less from her…” she muttered to herself, “You’re not alone in that assessment, Weaver. Many will agree with you on that front.”
“As I’ve seen-- and met,” Melly said. The way Odyssia had said that… she knew a bit about Amari and Odyssia’s history. Whatever connection they had outside of the hero stuff, in some regard she could still say that it was a good one.
“Yes… I suppose that’s one thing that me and old Juice Man can’t really relate to each other on,” Odyssia sighed. 
Before either of them could say anything else, the tell-tale sound of metal stomping on concrete echoed down the corridor that Odyssia had brought Melly down. Feeling him approaching, Melly went still, keeping her head facing away from the door-- hopefully, she could avoid having Oliver know that she was more coherent than before. A moment later, Oliver entered the room, looking rather annoyed. His eyes scanned the room for a moment before locking on Odyssia.
Speak of the Devil, Odyssia thought to herself as she looked back at him. 
“So… What is it this time, Oliver?” she asked, putting the clipboard and pen down on the gurney’s surface. 
“Your… pet keeps bothering me,” he said with contempt. “I’m trying to review the notes on the Shards that you took from the Weaver, but I can’t focus with that thing constantly trying to pester me!”
Odyssia grimaced a bit, shifting her weight as she stepped closer to him. Upon doing so, she noticed Adorabilis, now clinging onto his leg with her tentacles. 
“I see,” she said, nodding tightly, “Let me get her off you.”
Oliver let out a huff in an expression of ‘finally’, holding out his leg and shaking it impatiently.
“Hold still, Juice Man,” she sighed, “You don’t need to shake her around like that.”
Odyssia gently coaxed Adorabilis with her tentacles, using them to remove her off of Oliver’s leg. Oliver could feel the sensation of suction cups being pulled off of him as she was taken away into Odyssia’s arms. 
“Alright, alright, you’re free now,” Odyssia said to Oliver as she heads over to one of the tanks. She opens it up to gently place the flapjack octopus inside. 
“It’s appreciated,” Oliver said, reaching up to straighten the collar of his shirt with a punchy tug. “While I’m here… I might as well ask. How has your research gone, thus far? Anything… interesting?”
“Sure thing,” she replies casually as she shuts the tank’s lid tight, “I suppose, but this was more me wanting a closer look at her and her Shard’s energy.”
“You ‘suppose’?” Oliver said, raising an eyebrow. “And have you been able to glean anything from that as of yet?”
“I will have to make some minor adjustments on my method of offering the Shard to the Writhing One but otherwise, I’m sure you already know enough extensive information from that mind retrieval that I did,” Odyssia replied coolly. 
“Indeed,” Oliver said, sounding mildly disappointed. “Speaking of which-- perhaps I should get back to reviewing that information. Perhaps she knows more about the pesky inhibiting devices that she’s used in our past few encounters. Quite fortunate that she had some spares on her this time around-- they usually burn out and damage themselves before I have the chance to inspect them more closely.”
“Sounds good to me,” Odyssia replied. “I will keep an eye on our guest here and make said adjustments to the plan.”
“And as I said before, I am quite looking forward to seeing the results,” Oliver said. Without another word, he turned, moving quickly out of the room back the way he had come.
As soon as he was gone, Odyssia groaned a little. 
“Man, if I didn’t know better, I would’ve believed he was an energy vampire or something,” she muttered underneath her breath. 
“Of the metaphorical sort, I’m assuming,” Melly said once she was sure Oliver was out of earshot. “I’ve met some actual energy vampires, and they tend to be a bit more direct with their energy-taking intentions.”
“Of course,” Odyssia chuckled, “A strange little man, he is.”
She picked up her clipboard and continues writing things down.
“... Now listen,” she muttered, recalling something, “I hate to admit it but I prefer you like this over when you could barely speak a coherent sentence. I… know that we really couldn’t be all that friendly after what I did to your mind and what I’m planning on doing. But even so, I feel like I should at least let you know this: Spider-Glass is… someone who is this very smart, very capable young lady. I know full well she’s going to show up eventually. Should she inevitably come to set you free just at the nick of time, promise me one thing: keep her safe. Her survival is… important to me.”
Melly stayed silent for a moment, taking in Odyssia’s words. It felt a bit strange, hearing that from someone with the intent to harm her… but she could tell that the Ock’s words were genuine.
“Us Spiders… we protect each other,” Melly said. “If she needs my help, if she ends up in danger… I’ll do what I can to make sure she’s safe at the end of things.”
There was a slight flicker of red in Melly’s eyes as she spoke-- a spark of determination and resolution, one could say. It was only there for a moment, though, before fading back to their usual crimson hue.
Odyssia smiled at that. Whether it was due to Melly’s promise, the brief glimmer of red, or a mixture of both, it was hard to say. 
Both knew it was only a matter of time until Spider-Glass would return. Until then, Odyssia resolved herself to scribbling down what she had learned from her talk from Melly that she had neglected to inform Oliver about. And Melly, biding her time until the others returned, resigned herself to wait.
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