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peace-coast-island · 1 year ago

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Diary of a Junebug

Gazing at the Asteria Moon from the Citrine Star while watching life slip away

No matter how prepared you are for the end, there’s always still something left unfinished. I think regrets are just a natural part of life. There will always be a part of us that’s like “I wish I had done this…” or “If only things could have gone differently…” We always think we have time, but sometimes it just doesn’t work out like that. At some point, life will throw something in our way, and before we know it, the time that we thought we had is now gone and we can’t get it back.

I’m not being pessimistic about it, just realistic. I feel like it’s one of those things you don’t realize until you get older when time often becomes something you don’t have enough of. Everyone and everything feels like it’s zooming by while you’re struggling to keep an even pace.

In other words, we tagged along to a space adventure to explore the Asteria Moon and Citrine Star and wound up with more than we bargained for, ending this adventure on a bit of a somber note. I didn’t know Brynn for long and somehow it feels like I’ve watched her life flash before my eyes. People come and go, and it’s now about how long you’ve known them, but the impact they’ve left on you.

Landry’s stationed not too far from here, so she invited us campers, Emmaline, and Minnie on a little space adventure to Asteria to watch a meteor shower. It’s one of those once in a lifetime things where the Citrine Star can be clearly seen for a whole night. Most of the time it’s obscured, except when there’s a meteor shower, so it’s a pretty big deal.

Not too long after settling in, I ran into some unexpected company - Amina, Luci, and Vergil. And with them was Brynn, a friend of theirs who wanted to make the most out of the time she had left. She and the others knew the end was coming, but they didn’t expect it to creep up on them so quickly.

That’s just how it is sometimes, I guess. No matter how well you plan something, you can’t predict every single possibility or outcome ever. I’ve been told that sometimes death happens quickly - like one minute you’re lucid and then next you’re gone kind of thing - so to see it for myself was very unexpected. I’m still trying to process everything.

As an outsider, I’m afraid I can’t comment too much, especially since I only met Brynn a days ago. Although Amina, Luci, and Vergil were well prepared, I don’t think that makes it any easier on them. They’re doing fine - well, as well as one can expect in a situation like this - but I believe them. It’s just one of those things in life where it hurts, but you just have to carry on and take it at your own pace.

The story on Brynn is that she left her family when she was young and was informally adopted by the knights. She and Luci became good friends, and by extension, she became well acquainted with Vergil, Amber, and Amina. She struggled with health issues all her life and up until a couple months ago, her condition became terminal. Because she’s not on speaking terms with her parents, she had Luci be the one to handle her affairs and final wishes, a request he takes very seriously.

At first glance, Amina, Luci, Vergil, and Brynn look like any other group that’s just here to have a good time. Brynn didn’t seem to be showing any signs of fatigue or weakness, and she said she didn’t feel any different compared to the last several days. That’s just how insidious it is - it sneaks up on you when you least expect it.

Landry gave us a tour of the Citrine Star base, which looks more like a fancy palace than a headquarters, in my opinion. Since the place was on Brynn’s bucket list and she and the others have never been to space before, we suggested that they tag along. With Landry, Emmaline, and Minnie taking the lead - as well as being experts on space travel and adventure - it’s bound to be an unforgettable experience!

The main centerpiece of the base is the giant telescope that’s used to monitor the Asteria Moon and the surrounding galaxy. It’s amazing to see how far that telescope goes! Landry happens to know the person who built it, so she’s able to tell us all sorts of cool facts that even tour guides don’t know about.

She’ll be hanging around here for a while before meeting up with a friend for something pretty big. She said she can’t get into too much details yet as they’re still finalizing everything, other than it has to do with putting together a crew. A brand new faction, so to speak, which sounds like a huge deal. Basically, it’s like changing career tracks as she’ll be in a leadership position - meaning, a lot more responsibilities. It’s a pretty big step and I’m happy for her.

Space is one of those places that makes you small and insignificant - not in a bad way though. In a way that makes you realize that there’s so much more going on with this world than you can even imagine. That you are just a tiny little star among a bazillion other tiny little stars. Just existing, just shining, just trying to light up the vast sky a little bit. You might be part of some galaxy or constellation. Or you might be a tiny cluster of stars that only shine a ver little area, just for you and those who you are close with.

Stars are stars, and light is light. In the end, I don’t think it matters what you’re a part of. Whether you’re bright or dim, you still take up space in the sky. Just because you don’t make a big impact doesn’t change the fact that you were once there. I think that’s something more people need to hear.

Brynn’s life might be short, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t leave an impact on those close to her. That actually kinda ties into why Luci’s so serious about carrying out her affairs and final wishes.

A few years ago, one of Brynn’s friends died suddenly. Because she didn’t leave anyone as next of kin, her estranged parents took over. Against her wishes, they had her buried under her deadname, as well as cut her hair and dressed her in clothes that she wouldn’t normally wear.

Brynn said it was a shock to her because she was unable to recognize her friend, who had transitioned years ago. Despite her friend having legally changed her name years ago, her parents still insisted on using her deadname. When Brynn and her friends confronted the parents, they basically mocked them and were like, “Who’s this Athena you’re talking about? This is Adam, our son.” Damn, that’s just insulting and disrespectful.

Since that was very upsetting, Brynn wanted to make sure something like that doesn’t happen with her friends when her time comes. Death can happen anytime, after all. Athena had never expected to die so suddenly, so it probably never occurred to her that a situation like that could happen. I never would have considered that a possibility for some people.

It’s something that you never really think about, something that you’re like, “Hm, I’ll deal with that later. I’m not in a hurry.” Sure, death tends to be something that seems to be way far off for most people. But the reality is, death can come at any time. Accidents, disasters, murder, illnesses - there are some things we just can’t predict. So the least we can do is consider the future by preparing for it.

Fortunately, Brynn’s got her affairs sorted. She’s struggled with her illness for all her life, so she’s well aware that she’s living on borrowed time. She says the nature of her condition’s unpredictable because it comes and goes while being progressive, and later debilitating. The fact that she’s able to live through adulthood is lucky. She also said that it’s no coincidence that her health drastically improved after cutting off from her parents, which she contributes to her longevity.

After spending the past couple years in poor and slowly declining health, Brynn finally got the news that her condition reached a terminal stage and there was nothing else they could do. She and her friends didn’t hesitate to make the most out of the time she has left. In fact, visiting the Citrine Star base was her last big thing on her bucket list. By big, meaning stuff she can do while she can still go out and have a good time before spending a lot of time in bed.

Amina said she was looking forward to this trip while dreading it at the same time. Luci admitted he felt the same too, especially since it really started to settle in that Brynn’s time was almost up. He had invited Vergil on a whim and didn’t expect him to take up on the offer. All Vergil would say is that he’s here for the same reason Amina is, because Brynn is his friend, and friends are there for each other.

Based on what Amina and I know about Luci and Vergil - mainly through Connie - we know there’s more to it than that. Luci and Vergil might have had problems in the past that affected their relationship, but they’re still family and they still look out for each other in their own way. Vergil may seem like an aloof, no nonsense kind of person, but his friends say that he’s very considerate and kind.

Pai said something along the lines of intimidating, but actually one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet. That is, if you’re not out to cause trouble and hurt others. I still don’t know him too well compared to Luci and Amina, but he is, in fact, very polite. He seems to be the kind of person who’s the voice of reason, the kind of person who asks you if you want to slow down so you don’t overwhelm yourself and takes your concerns very seriously.

In other words, he’s not only looking out for Brynn, he’s also looking out for Luci and Amina. After all, it can’t be easy to go through what Luci’s dealing with, being the one to handle his friend’s final affairs. He may act all chill and stuff, but his friends have said that there’s always more than meets the eye with him. He just has his own way of dealing with things, and sometimes it’s best to just leave it at that.

Like I said earlier, Brynn didn’t like someone who was at death’s door. She looked just like any other person on any given day. Though weak, was able to conserve her energy so she’d have a good time without overexerting herself. I mean, we’re in a space base, not hiking in the mountains. But it wasn’t like she was pushing herself to the detriment of her health. In fact, she had been feeling a lot better than when she first arrived. Looking back, maybe that was a sign.

The meteor shower was a spectacular sight. I have no words to describe it other than it was like straight out of a fantasy sci-fi scene. The warms reds and golds glow of the Asteria Moon with the small bright white lights of the meteors contrasting with the dark sky. I managed to get a bunch of good pictures, but it’s just not the same as when I saw it with my very own eyes. A very unforgettable experience indeed.

And with what happened after, the meteor shower took on an even more special meaning. We had been so awestruck by what happened that sleep was the last thing on our minds. So we decided to hang out in the lounge for a bit to unwind. Landry prepared us a relaxing tea that she said will help us sleep, as well as some snacks to go with it.

Brynn stayed for one cup of tea before heading to bed. She seemed fine, just tired. It was 2 in the morning, who wouldn’t be? She was on her way back to her room when she said she suddenly didn’t feel well. While resting in the lobby, she texted Luci to come get her. He was helping her in the hall when she collapsed. The medics came quickly and took her to the infirmary.

When I saw her there, it finally hit me that Brynn was dying. It was startling to see someone who was once full of life lying in bed struggling to catch her breath. She had been coughing up blood, which Luci says is not a good sign as it means the end is near.

Landry asked her if she wanted to go to the hospital if that would make things easier for her. Of course, Brynn declined, stating that she did not want to die in a hospital room. Luci agreed with her sentiment and handled her medical affairs from there since he had the papers that spell out how Brynn wanted her medical care handled.

So that was a way to end the night. I went to bed at 3 and probably got maybe 4 or 5 hours of actual sleep because I was worried about Brynn. I think it was safe to say that the others probably didn’t get that much sleep either.

I met up with the others in one of the meeting rooms where Landry was waiting. She figured that Daisy Jane, Emmaline, Minnie, and I wanted an update on Brynn’s condition. What we didn’t expect was for Brynn and Luci to later show up.

Brynn was noticeably weaker, though she looked a lot better than she did in the infirmary. She was glad that we were all together in one spot so she could talk to us. To think that she hasn’t known me, Daisy Jane, Emmaline, and Landry for only a couple days, and she wanted us here with friends she’d known for years. I guess that goes to show how we can leave an impact on people’s lives, even for a short time.

In summary, she said her time was coming to an end. That it could be days, maybe even hours. It could happen quickly, it could happen slowly. There’s just no predicting it. As frustrated as she was, she wasn’t going to let that get her down. She had an amazing time watching the meteor shower and if things are gonna end there, then she’s okay with it. Sure, there’s still so much that she wants to do, but there’s no use arguing anymore.

So what we’re gonna do is just keep having a good time. All she wants is to be there with her friends, old and new. She said that dying at the Citrine Star isn’t so bad. After all, she spent her life longing to see space and her wish finally came true.

And just because she’s dying doesn’t mean that she has to drag us down. She was the kind of person who saw the humor in things, as is Luci. Sure, it was a little tough, but their humor did help a lot, Amina especially. I think all of this has hit a little too close for her. It’s hard to believe that at some point in her life, Amina could’ve been in the same position as Brynn.

Amina said in the past that she’s not as close to Vergil compared to Luci. It’s not that they don’t get along or anything, it’s just that she doesn’t see Vergil as much like with Luci and Amber. Because of his status as basically one of the most powerful and wealthiest in Bonsai, I can see why some people might be put off by him. However, by Amina’s account, he is absolutely nothing like that. He’s well aware of his status, but he doesn’t want to use that as a selling point unless it’s necessary to get some leverage.

That being said, I think it’s good that Vergil’s there for Luci and Amina. Luci may act tough and tease Vergil when he shows concern, but underneath the bickering and jokes, I’m sure he’s grateful. Vergil has also been considerate of us and making sure we’re okay. He really has been a rock for all of us.

Brynn stuck around for another day before leaving us. There was so much to see that it felt like a normal sightseeing adventure even though it really wasn’t. Sure, it might sound a little weird, but aside from the thing with her dying, it felt like an ordinary day. I mean, that’s how she wanted things to be. She lucked out by being at a space base since she could still see a lot of cool things without really having to travel far. There’s a reason why the telescope here is so famous.

Her end came quietly, which I think was the best way for her to go. It happened around midnight and we got a text from Luci saying that Brynn wanted to see us. She had gotten so weak that even opening her eyes took a lot of effort. With her last breaths, she thanked us all for having a good time. Then she fell asleep and minutes later she stopped breathing.

I don’t know what I expected. The way I can best describe it is that it’s like she went to sleep. It’s sort of like blowing out a candle. One minute the flame’s there, and then with a gentle breeze, the flame’s gone. I hope she wasn’t in a lot of pain. I’d like to think she wasn’t, otherwise she wouldn’t have looked so peaceful.

And now here I am almost an entire day later, still trying to process the whole thing. Luci was managing her affairs and making arrangements while Vergil and Amina hung out with us for a bit before going off on their own before meeting us again. As per Brynn’s wishes, we just went on with our day, exploring the Citrine Star and learning about the Asteria Moon.

Space has a way of making you feel small and insignificant. Being here has been an unforgettable experience and for as long as I live, I will keep the memories of the Asteria Moon meteor shower and Brynn’s final days close to my heart.

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#animal crossing pocket camp #animal crossing #diary of a junebug #headcanon ramble

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spencersmagic · 4 years ago

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a knife twists at the thought - SR

Prompt: a knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark - Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Spencer is new to this, and the poor boy is terrified

Couple: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid (i picture season 2/3 Spencer but y’all do you)

Category: angst

Word count: 3086 words

Warnings: general criminal minds stuff, mentions and descriptions of torture, descriptions of loss, HAPPY ENDING!!, my 3am writing, tooth rotting love, uhmm spoilers for Orwell’s 1984 (if anybody hasn’t read it), humiliation, Spencer crying and breaking my heart (lmk if you need anything warned or trigger tagged).

A/N This is very loosely based on 2x15 (VERY LOOSELY). I’m quite proud of this one :)

masterlist // 505 series taglist

*****

They say you never see it coming.

When a tragedy occurs, and someone’s life is turned upside down forever, they never see it coming. It just... hits them. Like an oncoming car ramming into a bystander who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

No one has time to prepare. In our time-starved lives, there is no place for such a warning.

One day, you just wake up. And they’re not next to you. They’ve disappeared, leaving the stickiest, most unforgettable parts of themselves behind for others to grieve to: the smell of their shampoo in the pillows they used to share, the seconds just as you wake when you still feel like you have them - only to gain full consciousness and realise they left you behind - even the fucking jars, which never seem to be open because he’s just not there to do it.

And you feel your heart breaking all over again as your soul sticks to the parts that couldn’t be erased with the rest of him as he left. Because you needed him, you had him, and now he’s gone. No warning, no letter, no signs which could’ve helped you foresee such a tragedy, because how could he? He didn’t disappear on purpose.

She doesn’t understand why he's so absent. So unequivocally missing. And the person she would turn to to ask these riddled questions isn’t there to answer. Because he’s gone.

But they’re not there yet.

And she feels so close to that feeling - the helplessness, the pain, the empty cups next to her bed because he always carried them to the sink when she was finished with her tea the mornings of those rare days they got to sleep in. Those days when they had time. She can practically touch, with the tip of her fingertips, the waves of pain that would surge over her if he was gone for one more fucking minute.

She has to remind herself, over and over again, like a mantra. He’s not gone yet.

The “yet” at the end of her mantra just breaks her all over again.

She was always the one to tell Spencer “if you worry before something happens, in case it goes wrong, and then it does, you’ve managed to suffer twice through something painful for absolutely no reason”. It usually worked. Needless to say, she felt like a hypocrite right about now.

Because Spencer is gone. And she doesn’t know how to bring him back.

She knows only to watch the monitor, never once blinking, taking in everything that happened in that damned livestream - every word, every sound, every reference. She can only try to hear anything over the whimpers and sobs her love was letting out as he’s tortured by that man. She can only hear the cracks of his knuckles against Spencers soft skin, the same soft skin she had kissed mere hours ago before telling him to “be careful”. Her own way of saying the three little words the couple was too young to hear. She can only see his lips parting, sobs rumbling out of his body as the unsub abuses his frame over and over again - same lips which had kissed her forehead before telling her “i always am”.

Then again, she isn’t sure if its his voice which is filling her head with painful sounds or if her mind is playing tricks on her, memorising the horrifying vibrations coming from his chest for her to ever consider anything else. She hasn’t stopped hearing him since she turned on that damned computer.

She isn’t sure she’ll ever stop hearing it.

As a man of great intellect, Spencer always recurred to knowledge to understand difficult occurrences in his life. Burying himself in textbooks, novels, poems, and even music to understand pain, and himself having a life filled with it, he was an incredibly knowledgeable man.

He knew much. But right now, he only knew one thing.

In Orwells’ 1984, as Winston was being tortured (much like Spencer is right now), Orwell described the following:

“Never, for any reason on earth, could you wish for an increase of pain. Of pain you could only wish one thing: that it should stop. Nothing in the world was so bad as physical pain. In the face of pain there are no heroes, no heroes”.

And, as a man who had acquired most of his intellect by immersing himself in trivial content in the face of pain, he found himself doing the same thing as the unsub hurt him over and over again, each blow seemingly more painful than the last. As his skin bruised, a causality of his abusers torment, he analysed the seemingly logical quote.

It must depend on the person, he was sure. In fact, a number of factors must be taken into consideration at this statement. For starters, Winston lives in a society incapable of any human feelings. There is only dominance, and those who attempt, in vain, to challenge it. Surely, if he had felt happiness, like the one you feel when the first day of spring rolls around, or like the one that creeps up on you as you look into the eyes of your loved one, surely, he would understand that some things can outweigh pain.

Love.

If Spencer’s mind could make sense of what he was feeling right now, he would understand, something he would figure of were he to leave this damned place, that he was thankful to the Gods, were there any, for having the unsub kidnap him and not Y/N.

Winston hadn’t understood emotional pain because emotions weren’t dealt with regularly. They were discouraged. That’s why he believed that there are no heroes in the face of pain. Because he doesn’t understand emotional pain.

He knew he was suffering. He also knew that Y/N was at the other side of the blinking camera suffering more than he could ever imagine.

They say emotional pain lasts 12 minutes. Anything one feels after this would be the aftermath of the cause of the pain in question. Pure emotional pain, the one you practically feel in your chest, the one that says “i can’t think, feel or be. not until this feeling dissipates”.

She had learned this from Spencer.

And she wished it were true. As she watched that damned monitor, she wished that all the venom the unsub was spewing at Spencer, all the verbal abuse, was long forgotten. She wished he could only feel the physical pain. Because the mind is incredibly stronger than the body - it could keep him awake, alive, for just enough time for the team to rescue him.

The entire team had huddled around the monitor around her. She was painfully aware that other people were seeing this. Which meant it wasn’t her imagination. It wasn’t another one of those damned dreams she would have when she slept a little too far away from Spencer’s touch.

They had only been together for two months, but his touch was all that could get her to fall asleep.

She jolted as the unsub landed another slap on Spencer’s cheek, swiftly grabbing his hair for him to look into the camera. He had a cut above his right cheek, just where she would kiss him in the mornings, and bruises all over his neck, jaw and left eye.

“Say hi to your team!” he mocked Spencer, chuckling darkly as he moved his almost lifeless body around for the team to watch in horror. Spencer let out a heartbreaking sob, feeling so vulnerable.

“Why don’t we make this interesting?” he jumped, as if he had gotten an idea. The unsub reached behind himself to grab a pistol, clicking off the magazine safety to put one bullet in one of the eight slots, leaving the other seven free. He pointed it at Spencer’s temple.

Her entire body shook the thought of seeing Spencer’s lifeless body, held up only by the ropes and that sick man’s grip around his curls. The same curls she grabbed as she kissed his face when she wanted his attention.

“I’m going to ask you some questions...” he said, voice dripping with sickening sweetness as he turned the roulette, “and if i don’t like your answer i’ll pull the trigger! Let God decide what I do with you. Sounds good?”. He wanted to humiliate Spencer.

However, Spencer made the mistake of not answering him. He was quickly reminded as the barrel of the gun pointed right between his eyes, pulling the trigger, a loud bang! sound expanding through the barn.

“I asked you a question!” he suddenly yelled into Spencer’s face.

“Y-yes, Sir” he whimpered, shaking at the ease at which the man pulled the trigger.

“Good, you’re learning”.

She experienced it by bits. Hotch’s hoarse voice. “Talk to me Garcia”. “We’ve got coordinates”. Everybody rushing to the SUVs. Tripping over her own feet on the way to the car. Morgan’s voice. The iPad, which still carried Spencer’s whimpers and the man mocking tone.

“I’ve got your diary, Spence” his sing-song voice didn’t match the disgusting man she was looking at. Nothing made sense.

“And I wanna know why...” he drew out the ‘y’ as he looked for something between the worn pages between his hands.

Of course she knew Spencer owned a diary. But she was mature enough to keep her hands to herself and her eyes on her own pages as he wrote on his, eyebrows creasing as he recalled all which he had experienced during the day. His face would twitch slightly at the memories, both good and bad, as he basically described his day word by word.

“...why did you wait until you were 24 to lose your virginity?” he asked in a clear attempt to humiliate and ridicule Spencer in front of his team.

“I-I didn't-” he could barely finish a word before a sob wrecking through his body at the humiliation, chest rumbling and voice wavering. “I didn’t want to lose it before, i w-wasn’t in a hurry” he rushed out. The man brought the pistol to his own chin, tapping it as he thought. “Hmm... I’m satisfied with your answer. Let’s dig deeper, shall we?” he asked as he went back into the pages.

“ooh! This one is new” that sick bastard was having fun with this, completely unaware that the team was less than 5 minutes away from their location.

“Care to read what you wrote three days ago? Right here” he turned the pages so Spencer could read them, though he was painfully aware of that entry he was talking about. His body shook violently. “P-please. D-don’t ma-make me do t-this” he whimpered, body feeling defeated.

“Wrong answer” the unsub said before pointing a gun at him and pulling the trigger.

A shriek was heard from the iPad. The SUV went silent.

“He’s alive” she whispered, unable to speak up. “He-” she swallowed. “He’s alive. We’re not there, yet” her mantra became a reminder that she hadn’t been quick enough to help him. She had the tools to save him. Every second she had the knowledge to save him and didn’t was another second she remained impotent at the risk of losing the love of her life.

Spencer’s voice spoke from the iPad.

“C-can you at-at leas-st turn off t-the ca-amera?” he said between sobs.

And it hit her.

What hurt him the most wasn’t the memories he had to relieve, but the fact that the rest of the team would have to hear his most intimate thoughts. His deepest secrets.

He could bare the pain. The humiliation? That broke him.

“Aww” the unsub chuckled mockingly, “are you embarrassed?” he said, slouching down to look into his eyes. “Well too fucking bad!” he screamed into his face, spitting with every word he spewed at him. Spencer’s sobs got louder.

“O-okay okay!” Spencer caved, accepting the journal that got shoved into his face.

“Read, pretty boy” the unsub sang. That son of a bitch was having fun.

“We’re two minutes away, Y/N” Hotch said. Maybe it was he sobs, which were barely audible to herself, having accepted them as second nature after all the heartbreak she was experiencing, but Hotch needed her to be okay.

His own heart thumped into his chest, feeling as helpless as he’d ever felt. Seeing a member of his team - someone he was supposed to take care of, someone he was supposed to keep safe - was sobbing as he was physically and emotionally tortured. But he was painfully aware of the feelings Y/N was experiencing. The sheer fear that was running down her veins at the idea of them running out of time.

After a few sobs, Spencer started reading, interrupting himself occasionally with his whimpers:

“It’s been three months. Today, three months, seven hours and forty-six minutes ago, she did what I didn’t have the courage to do. She asked me out. “I’ve been wanting to ask you pretty much since the day i met you” she had said. Those words keep ringing in my head like a beautifully written symphony, intrinsically designed to make me face my deepest fears. Opening my scars one by one, dissecting them and reaching the simple conclusion that i was a coward.

She didn’t say it, but what she meant was “i’ve been waiting for you to do it, but you never did, so i had to”. We wasted time - a time so precious and sacred - because i was a coward.

I’ve never felt like this before. I never understood a love so deep as to move something so stubborn as the human spirit. I’ve read textbook after textbook, and novel after novel, and still I’ve never learned more than with her. But I was a coward. And i wasted her time. I fear that I still am.

A knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark. It’s impossible for me to ever be enough for her”.

Her heart broke at this confession. Even worse at the thought that he wouldn’t’ve told her, instead inhaling fear and exhaling rejection at every breath he took next to her.

“We’re here” she heard Hotch, looking at her. She grabbed a bottle of water and dropped the iPad, not hearing the teams objections at the lack of vest and preparation and ran into the barn.

She isn’t sure if she’ll ever stop hearing his whimpers. As she runs closer, she hears them louder and louder, decorated with sobs and cries, and small, meaningless replies to his abusers’ mocking words.

She kicked the door down, the loud bang booming across the room, only helping in raising Spencer’s sobs as he feared the sound had been the result of a certain trigger being pulled. As she looks at him, she realises just how much pain he’s been put through.

She remembers Orwells words, much like how Spencer had remembered them mere hours ago. And disagrees, wishing over and over, praying to the Gods that she would be the victim of such atrocious abuse. She wished she could take his pain. Morgan joined her at her side mere seconds later, yelling. “FBI! Put the gun down!”.

Spencer used the last bit of energy to lunge forward, hitting the unsubs stomach with his head, successfully getting him on the floor for Morgan to apprehend. Y/N rushed to Spencer’s side, untying him, as his now nonexistent sobs grew louder and louder, not only at the prospect of getting out of that horrible place alive, but also at the knowledge that Y/N had heard what he had so dreadfully recited.

Spencer collapsed into her arms, crying into her in the same way she was crying into him, and she wondered just how to take away all his pain. So they cried into each other, desperately grasping each others hair, skin, clothes, anything that would make them feel like they wouldn’t have to spend another damned second without the company of each other.

Spencer was the first to break the silence.

“I need-” he stopped, coughing. She reached for the bottle of water she had brought with her because she knew he would need it. She always knew what he needed.

He chugged it desperately, stray drops falling down his chin at his eagerness. He took a deep breath trying to steady his lungs.

“I need to get out of here” he choked out.

She grabbed him under the shoulders, careful not to hurt him - not being successful, realising that there wasn’t much of him the man hadn’t hurt. Y/N pulled him out, sitting down on the grass with him. Their legs intertwined, pulling each other impossibly closer. They kissed, over and over again. Not as an act of any sexual relevance, but as a reminder that they had each other in any way, shape or form. That they weren’t out of time.

The team was certain they would stay there, never letting each other go for another minute.

After what felt like seconds in their time-starved little world, she broke the silence, which had only been filled with their own cries and occasional sobs.

“Spence” she grabbed his chin to look into his eyes. They were dull, red and hooded. He was exhausted. “Mhmm?” he let out, looking into hers. She was his solace.

“How could you ever think you were anything but completely and unequivocally enough?” she whispered the words he dreaded.

But as Spencer looked into her eyes he knew, better than he had ever known anything, that he was enough. And she was enough. He realised that which she had known for the past three months (possibly longer). They fit like two marvellous puzzle pieces.

Her hands grabbed his cheeks slowly, as to not hurt or startle him, pulling his forehead into hers. “Baby, I can’t imagine anybody else waking up to me every morning. You’re so much more than enough”, she planted a small kiss on his forehead before resuming her position. “I’ll remind you every day of the rest of my life if that’s what it takes for you to believe it”.

And with their eyes closed, foreheads and noses pressed together and legs tangled between each other, pulling each other close, closer - around grass and voices and his abuser pressed into the hood of a police car, they only felt each other. With their shaky breaths, even shakier voices, fearing any words that would leave them in case they triggered a cascade of tears down their oh so vulnerable cheeks, they were more than enough.

***

I hope y’all liked it!! Feel free to let me know by liking, reblogging, or sending me a message :)

super cool kid taglist: @lady-anon-x @spencerreid-mgg @eoupe @inlovewithbabygirl @galaxydefenderjulia @username2002

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

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Little Bones 1

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); harassment, general creepiness

This is dark! (biker) Thor x chubby!reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: You’re a city girl stuck in a small town, but Birch isn’t as sleepy as it seems.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown and When the Weight Comes Down

Note: So, I’ve made some positive changes in my life. I am working away at original work, I’m drinking more water, I’m taking my dog on big walks and being more active, and I’m doing my best. So, I was struck with an old yearning to return to Birch. I’ll be updating here and there as I feel and won’t be pushing myself like I did before because I realise how unhealthy and stressful it was on me.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: It gets so sticky down here

A city girl in a small town. What could be sadder than that?

In the city, life went fast. In a place like Birch, the days dragged by as if to remind you of how helpless you were beneath the unyielding and inevitable tick of the clock. The hand wound around and around as you waited for what would never happen. The dreams of your childhood eroded beneath the rolling years leaving trail of crumbs you could not follow back to the beginning.

A woman just beyond her prime trapped in an antiquated career. The empty aisles between the shelves full of books bespoke of a bygone era. The forgotten library at the far end of the main street rarely saw a new face and those familiar were fewer by the day. The staff had thinned to three of you; Melissa was older than you with a daughter nearly your age and Colin was close to retirement if not well past.

You got on well enough, as well as you could given Colin’s faulty hearing aid, and Melissa’s wandering mind. They meant well but they shared the lethargy of the old small town.

You weren’t nostalgic for the smog or the flashing lights of the city, but there was no life to this place. Only the impending reach of death rattling closer in the roar of the motorcycles and the rumble of the old railroad that ran through the middle of town.

The air nipped at your cheeks as you approached the library. A morning of yawning had you craving a latte from the bakery and the quiet girl behind the counter cheerfully steamed the foam before handing it over. Everyone in this town was familiar, everyone knew everyone else, and yet, you still felt like an outsider.

You felt the heat of the cup through your glove and you looked up as you sensed two figures by one of the thick columns of the library façade. Melissa stood chatting with her daughter, hugging her sweater around her as she’d left her coat inside. You peeked up at the grey sky as snow threatened at any moment with the mid-November bite.

As you thought to pass them and leave their conversation uninterrupted, your name drew you back.

“I was just telling my daughter,” Mel began as she waved you over with a chatter of her teeth. “About that podcast you mentioned. She loves those old Hollywood stars.”

“Oh,” you blew the steam away from the lid of your drink as you neared, “It’s alright. The stories are worth the narrator’s schtick.”

��Yeah? I’ve been closing at the bar and I like to listen to something once it clears out.” Mel’s daughter said. “You wouldn’t mind giving me the name?”

You told her the title of the podcast and helped her find it on Spotify to follow for later. Mel shivered and stood closer to her daughter who was bundled up against the onslaught of Birch’s blustering winter. You knew about her too.

She was friendly but you saw in her a cynicism more common to city folk. You got along but you were weary of her associations. The local club of crass bikers were neither subtle nor savoury. In the city, it was easy enough to ignore the patch and all that came along with it. The seedy figures were distilled by the broader population but not in Birch. There, the club was the town.

“Mom, you can’t stay out here.” She poked her mother’s arm. “It’s too cold.”

“Little better in the library.” You grumbled and sipped your latte. “The radiator’s broken again.”

“You mean Colin broke it trying to fix what wasn’t broken,” Melissa shook her head, “and I’m fine, dear. I’ve spent more than fifty winters in Birch and been through worse than this.”

“Yes, but you were younger then--” Her voice dwindled as she turned her head to listen to the distant roar of exhaust.

You followed her gaze and noted the way her forehead creased at the noise. She swallowed and turned to watch as a dark rider turned onto the main road from the highway. It was the man who kept her entwined with the club, the one who marked her latent authority over all others. The only one who outranked her.

She swore and looked over her shoulder at her mother. Her mother touched her arm. It was a telling and surprising moment. Her expression read of all the disgust you felt for the bikers.

At least a dozen bikes followed the first and Bucky raised his glove hand to signal the others to slow as he pulled up to the curb just before the library steps. You backed away as his breath clouded around him and he waved Mel’s daughter closer. He craned to kiss her as she bent, her fingers picking at her jeans as she did, then he nodded his greeting to Mel.

“What are you doing?” He asked tersely.

“Can’t I see my mother?” The daughter challenged and the biker scoffed.

“Of course,” he killed his engine and the others mimicked him in fine order. “I wouldn’t keep ya from her but you didn’t tell me you were going downtown.”

“You were gone.”

You listened to the conversation as you stayed close to the column, thinking of sneaking up the steps into the library before you heard too much. Your curiosity had you searching the crowd of leather jackets as their wearers tried to conceal their impatience with their boss’ impromptu halt.

Among them, a large man sat casually in his seat, his feet planted on the cold pavement as he rolled slightly back and forth. Strands of his thick blond hair were drawn back beneath his helmet into a thick braid as the rest hung around his shoulders. His patch was different from the rest, an old Norse symbol you didn’t know the meaning of. There were several others who wore the same cut, including a dark-haired woman who chatted with another golden-haired rider.

You tasted your latte again, it cooled quickly as the cold air battered the cardboard. As you sipped and sidled around the column, your eyes were caught by another pair. The very man you’d just been watching was now focused on you. You stopped, hoping like some frightened animal that your stillness would ward off his attention.

“Barnes,” the broad blonde man spoke as he finally looked away. “You’ve not even introduced me to your woman. I assume that’s why we’ve stopped.”

Bucky shifted on his bike and sighed. You hadn’t expected the man to have an accent. His voice was deep but the subtle lilt defined his tone as unforgettable. The dark-haired biker of Birch rolled his eyes before he pointed to his girl and gave her name, then to Melissa as he explained their relation.

You sidestepped around the column to the stairs of the library and turned away. You were stopped again by the same voice.

“And that one? The quiet one?”

You spun back slowly and looked at each biker, many unconcerned with conversation, as a few stared back at you or at the viking-like rider. Bucky shook his head and furrowed his brow at Melissa’s daughter. She hesitated before she gave your name coolly referred to you as just another librarian. She was trying to deflect the focus and you were thankful for it. You wondered at her own blatant spite for that breed of man.

“No one important,” Bucky grabbed his keys. “Come on, honey. I’ll give you a ride back.”

“I can walk.”

“Get on.” He said gruffly and turned the keys.

The motorcycles thrummed back to life in a cacophony. You flinched and turned back to the library doors. Your lunch was almost over as it was and the cold was starting to make your head hurt. You heard the bikes tear off as you reached the door and you turned back to watch as Melissa ran up after you.

You held the door for her and paused as you watched riders tear away. The blonde remained and watched you with a smirk. He winked as he slowly rolled after the others and pushed off. You followed Melissa inside and pulled the door shut tightly behind you.

“I’ll finish the returns,” you slipped past her, “you should try to warm up.”

“Thanks, dear,” she rubbed her hands together as she neared the curve desk you all shared, “God, that man makes my skin crawl.”

“But your daughter--”

“She handles him as well as she can,” Melissa sat and logged onto her boxy PC, “she’s stronger than me, that’s for sure.”

You sat and chewed on the thought. You just assumed her daughter leaped at the opportunity to date the most powerful man in town. What else could a girl from Birch hope for?

“She doesn’t…”

“He keeps her safe, I guess,” Melissa muttered, “I don’t say nothing against it. I won’t, for her sake as much as mine.”

You lowered your lashes and turned to the stack of unscanned books. You took the first and opened the cover.

“I didn’t mean to-- I don’t really know anything about the… bikers.”

“Hope you never do, dear,” she said listlessly. “Those men, if you can call them that, are the lowest form of humanity.”

💀

You always took the same route home. It wasn’t very far. You lived in the studio apartment above Tammy’s, the clothes shop where all the local seniors got their outdated outfits. The store itself smelled like a retirement home but you were not often disturbed by the activity below. Like everything in Birch, it wasn’t very exciting.

Your walk took you past the diner and along the stretch across the street from the town’s sentinel, The Asp. The bar was the only place in town which always seemed to be bursting with life. You had an old Chevrolet parked behind the building but you never drove to work, only on your odd trip to the city to get away from the suffocation malaise of main street.

That day as you fumbled to get your earbud back in, you heard a whistle. You got a few comments now and again about your habit of blocking out the townsfolk and the town itself with your music. In the city, you didn’t just say hi to every person you walked by and you had little inclination to change that habit.

You kept going and the whistle came louder. You heard boots hammer across the street and you stopped as the earbud once more fell out of your ear.

“Eh, kitten,” you turned to the long-haired biker. A golden hammer hung from a chain and peaked out from the open collar of his jacket. He tucked his hands in his pockets as you faced him with blatant irritation. “We didn’t get to meet properly, did we?”

You stared at him and let out a foggy breath. You leaned on your left heel and shook your head with a scoff.

“No.” You said and turned back along your path.

“No?” He repeated and his footsteps followed closely. “I’m only being friendly, kitten. I’m not from around here and I’m just tryn’ ta make a few friends.”

“I’m not interested,” you march onward and stop short.

You realised if you went any further, you’d lead him straight to your door. You didn’t need him knowing where you lived. You veered off and crossed the street, he stayed close just like your shadow. You’d stop by the liquor store and wait him out there.

“Where are you going, kitten?”

“Can’t you take a hint?” You nearly tangled your own legs as you pivoted sharply. “I’m sorry for your luck that you’ve ended up in Birch but I don’t know you and I don’t want to know you.” You grasped the handle of the liquor store door. “Oh, and my name isn’t kitten.”

“I know your name. I remember it.” He grinned and you swung open the door. He caught it behind you and you let out a frustrated sigh as he trailed you inside. “It’s almost as gorgeous as you.”

“Do those work on the women where you’re from?”

You stared at the shelf of fruit wines and tried to ignore him. You were starting to build a real thirst for the bottles.

“I don’t meet a lot of women like you, kitten.”

“Would you stop it--” You blinked and stomped further down the aisle.

“Thor. My name’s Thor.” He offered gallantly. “But you can call me whatever you wish.”

“I could think of a few things.” You bent down to read the label of a wine from the Maritimes.

“Mmm, my thoughts run wild, kitten.” He purred and you looked up at him in confusion.

You swiped the bottle from the shelf and stood straight. His eyes clung to your ass and as you turned, they swiftly found your chest. Neither were well-hidden by your jacket, even as thick as it was. Your weight often deterred the whistles and the leers, but not this time.

“How many ways can I tell you to go away?” You hissed and move to step around him. He turned and watched you pass. He shivered as you brushed against him unwillingly in the narrow aisle.

“So, you got a man?” He questioned as again he tailed you to the counter. You grabbed a small bottle of Vodka from the rack beside it and dug out your wallet.

“Does it matter?”

He bent and leaned on the counter beside you and you ignored his attempt to look you in the face. You paid and took your change as the clerk bagged your purchase.

“To me, everything about you matters, kitten.”

You shot him a sharp look and took your paper bag. You hugged it close and glared at him as he straightened. “Stop calling me that.”

“Here,” he gripped the top of the bag, “I’ll help.”

“I’ll smash this bottle over your head,” you threatened. “Now I’ve told you to leave me alone.”

He chuckled and dipped his head. His hair slid down the leather and he scratched his thick beard.

“Don’t worry, kitten, I like to play.”

He looked at you again, his blue eyes twinkling. You were startled as suddenly he ‘woofed’’ at you. You backed away and he kept close as is to chase you, ready to salivate like the dog he mimicked.

“Get away!” You shouted and raced for the door.

His barks turned to laughter and the bell announced your stagger out onto the street. You didn’t look back as you charged across the street and narrowly missed being mowed down by Linda Karling. You reached the other side as you heard the liquor store door clatter a second time. You sensed his shadow as you turned down a side street.

You walked until you were certain he wasn’t following. The cold blew up your jacket as you mapped out your way back. You could sneak around the back of the clothes shop and sneak up the metal escape. You peered back and forth, the old house just at the town limits nearly faded into the dimming sky and main street shrouded by brick walls.

“Hey,” a small voice surprised you as a woman neared, walking the same route as you. “Whatcha doing all the way up here?”

You stared at her dumbly. It was the woman who worked at the bakery. She hung out with the club too.

“Nothing, I…” You grabbed your earbuds and put them back in your ears. “I was listening to my music and got carried away.”

“Oh?” she chittered like a mouse. “No one comes this way. Only me to see my ma.”

You nodded at her and gave an awkward smile. “Mmhmm. Well, thanks. I probably would’ve wandered right out of town.”

“I wouldn’t blame you,” she said forlornly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“For your latte. And you always get the banana loaf when it’s on special and tomorrow’s Tuesday.”

You sniffed and rubbed your neck. You hated that. You hated that everyone knew you, that everyone knew what you did, and that they assumed they knew everything else. But she was sweet and you couldn’t hate her for never being freed from the prison of Birch.

“Oh yeah,” you squeezed the paper bag so it crinkled and pulled out your phone with your free hand, “tomorrow.”

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binkysteebnpewter · 3 years ago

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One Last Time

A/N: Hi 🫣 So I’m kind of sort of back, I’ll be posting periodically and what not. Sorry for the disappearance, but anywho… here’s a short and open to debate fic.

Avenger x Reader

It wasn’t the fact that you hadn’t been able to come to this place in so long that made you anxious, it was the changes that had taken place and been put in motion in the time in between before and now. The slouch in your posture, the quiet steps, the foggy mind, and even worse; the cloudy road ahead.

“It’s, it’s been a while.”

The words cling like honey, drawn and dripping out. Everything that could’ve been said, had been thought up to say once you arrived was now gone— forgotten as your chest heaved a little with a painful twinge. There was so much to say, but much like all your problems now… where would you even start?

“I miss you.. nothing is the same and I don’t know what to do,”

The rustling foliage and remnant rubble from a battle long past by now was blurry and grayed out of your mind as you stared at the head stone, cold and gray— untouched by the sun or it’s warmth as the clouds have hung around the past little while, much like turmoil. Not many had gotten buried on the border of this place, many wanting to lay their lost loved ones to rest on calmer soil— but it felt too wrong to move, the place felt just right for their final resting place after the comments made on its beauty in the heat of things. A beauty you wished had lasted a while longer, but maybe that was always destined the vanish too just like everything else.

“I don’t know what— everyone went separate ways, doing separate things… almost like strangers. No one talks anymore… after, after the fight with the stupid grape bastard… everyone split..”

It almost hurt to admit the issues you were hung on, the silence and the shards left behind that cracked and cut. The pieces shined like a mirror in the sun, unforgettable and hard to ignore; become to mindless, you get cut on the edges. Far more times you’ve been cut by the edges, your edges being cut back chunk by chunk. What will he left? When does healing start? Would it ever?

“I guess I just, just didn’t expect everyone to vanish like… like we were nothing to another.. I know we fought and bickered but everyone was sort of like family, right? Is… is it supposed to be that easy to just walk away?”

The times you’d pondered that question, the amount of time you’d spent waiting for an answer, the sleepless nights and silent days you’d spent almost seem nonexistent as you sat yourself against the tree that had grown close by their grave. No matter what answers you searched for, none seemed right. They all cut at the edges without remorse and pity. Perhaps if you never left, the cut would soften?

“I guess… I’ll be the one that stays, rest by you one last time..”

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lumosandnoxwriting · 4 years ago

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Inked Up - Fred Weasley

Title: Inked up Pairing: Fred x Fem!Muggle!TattooArtist!Reader Warnings: NSFW!! Dirty talk, fingering, female receiving oral, unprotected sex, choking. There is also mention of needles!! Summary: Fred never thought he’d get a tattoo. But of course when a pretty girl offers he can’t say no. A/N: Summary is shit but again, what else is new. I had a dream about Fred getting a tattoo and couldn’t stop thinking about it so here you guys go lol. Thank you to everyone who suggested tattoo ideas!! Feedback is always welcome!! Tags: not tagging anyone as I am unsure who is 18+!

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

Charlie watches Molly disappear back into the kitchen after dropping off some hot chocolate to everyone in the living room, muttering something about starting to prep the food for tomorrow’s feast. After the war he’s made an effort to come home more often, but it’s been a few months since he’s seen all of his siblings, and he’s made a major upgrade to his body that he’s been dying to show off.

“Finally thought she’d never leave.” Everyone turns to look at Charlie and he gives them a smile. “I wanna show you guys something.”

When Charlie starts to take off his shirt Fred puts his hands up. “Woah there, Char. Do I have to remind you that we’re all related to you?” he jokes. “Although some of us not yet,” he teases, nudging Harry with his foot. He and Ginny got engaged a few months ago and as her older brother Fred has taken it upon himself to tease them both about it every chance he gets.

“Oh, screw off, Fred. I got a tattoo you prat,” Charlie explains as he pulls his shirt off over his head. He turns around so everyone can see the ink on his shoulder blade. It’s a rather amazing portrait of a Hungarian horntail, and they all gasp as its wings start to flap and fire shoots out of its nose. “Sick, right?”

Fred stares at it in awe, watching it move over and over again. He’s never really thought about getting a tattoo or any real body modifications. He watched Katie Bell pierce Alicia Spinnet’s ears with a needle and an ice cube in the common room second year, and that was enough for him to decide that he never wanted to do anything like that to his own body. But now, watching the tattoo on his brother’s back move he can’t help but wonder what a tattoo would look like on his own body.

“Looks wicked, Charlie,” Ginny comments. “Does mum know?”

Charlie shakes his head with a laugh and pulls his shirt back on before turning back to face his siblings. “No, and no one in this room is gonna tell her.”

“I dunno, Charlie. Mum’s been giving me crap about my earring for years, might be nice to not hear about it for a while,” Bill teases.

Charlie throws a pillow at Bill, and everyone gets back to what they were doing before Charlie’s announcement, except for Fred, who’s still thinking about the tattoo on his brother’s back.

Like most decisions in Fred’s life, his decision to get a tattoo is impulsive. He’s been thinking about getting a tattoo since Charlie showed his off on Christmas Eve, so when he’s heading back towards Diagon Alley with coffee for him and George it seems natural for him to take a detour into a tattoo shop. Six months is a fairly long time to think about something and he doesn’t seem the harm in just merely looking around.

“Hi, can I help you with something?”

Fred pulls his attention away from the art that litters the walls of the small space towards the counter in front of him. He’d been so mesmerized by the atmosphere that he didn’t even notice the young woman standing just a few feet away. But now that he has, he can’t seem to look away.

She is by far the most beautiful woman Fred has ever seen. Her long hair cascades down her back and there’s light reflecting off of the small diamond of her nose piercing. The variety of simple, black line art tattoos that crawl up her left arm stand out on her skin, and Fred let’s his eyes trace over them for a moment. He lets his eyes trail back up to hers and he gives her his signature smirk.

“I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo, actually,” Fred explains, stepping up to the counter. He rests his hands on the counter and leans on them, and Fred watches as the young women’s eyes trace the muscles and veins of his forearms.

“Well you’ve come to the right place,” the young woman responds as her eyes meet Fred’s once again. There’s a fresh pink tint to her cheeks and it makes Fred’s heart beat faster in his chest. “Do you have any idea of what you’d want to get?”

“I’ve got a few, I think. I dunno, I don’t want to pick the wrong thing and end up with something I hate on my body for the rest of my life, ya know?” he chuckles.

“That’s part of the thrill isn’t it?” she asks. Her eyes are bright with mischief, and Fred can feel himself swooning. “I’ve got a fair few tattoos that I picked out just a few minutes before my appointment. Sometimes life shouldn’t be taken so seriously. And if you really hate something you can always get it covered up later.”

Fred lets his eyes trace some of her tattoos again while he waits for his heart rate to calm down. He’s already become enamored by this woman and he doesn’t even know her name. “Well you’ve convinced me then. D’you have any suggestions? Being an expert and all,” he flirts.

The flush on the woman’s cheeks deepens and Fred practically drools when she pulls her plump bottom lip between her teeth as she thinks. “Well since you’re a virgin, a tattoo virgin,” she clarifies when Fred snickers. “I’d recommend something simple and meaningful. That way if you realize tattoos aren’t for you at least the one you have means something. And if tattoos are for you, the boring one is already out of the way and your next one can be something fun.”

“Like a meaningful date, something like that?” Fred asks, a few different ideas swimming around in his mind.

“As long as it’s not an anniversary with a girlfriend. I can’t tell you how many of those I’ve had to cover up,” the young woman laughs.

“No girlfriend, so no worries there,” Fred responds, unable to miss the excited look that crosses the woman’s face. “I’m Fred, by the way.”

The woman holds out her hand, a shiver running down her spine when Fred grabs it. “I’m Y/N.” After their handshake the linger with their hands clasped together, both a little reluctant to let go.

Fred makes an appointment for a tattoo that evening, and by the time he stops at Gringotts to grab some muggle money and heads into the joke shop both the coffees in his hand have gone cold.

“Took you long enough, git. Did you get lost?” George teases, using his wand to rewarm both of their drinks. One Saturday a month they keep the shop closed and use the opportunity to rearrange the shelves, inventory the products so they can put orders into their suppliers and make up new displays. They never want the store to seem boring or stagnant, and this one day a month allows them to keep things interesting.

“I had to make a few stops on the way,” Fred explains, starting to dig through a box of whizbangs.

“Okay mister secretive,” George huffs. “You finally get a girlfriend you haven’t told me about?”

Fred doesn’t look up from what he’s doing, knowing the flush on his cheeks will only cause George to tease him further. “You’re an idiot.” He had planned on keeping his tattoo a secret for a bit, something just for him. But there are few things in the world Fred keeps from George. “I’m gonna get a tattoo.”

“Oh?” George asks in surprise. “You’ve never talked about it before.”

Fred shrugs. “Just been thinking about it, for a bit. Since Charlie showed us his at Christmas. I never thought it’d be something for me but, it seemed cool. I noticed a shop on my way back and popped in. Just to see what it was about. But I started talking to the girl in there-“

“Ah,” George says in realization, cutting Fred off. “A pretty girl convinced you to get one. I see, I see,” he teases.

Fred looks up at George this time and whips a whizbang box at his head. “I didn’t say she was pretty.”

“That blush on your cheeks does though,” George responds with a chuckle.

“You’re an asshat.”

George rolls his eyes. “So, what did the pretty girl say that made you get a tattoo?”

George seems genuinely interested, so Fred chooses to ignore the teasing tone he has. “That life isn’t so serious.”

“That’s it? This woman must be drop dead gorgeous if that’s all it took for you to decide to put something on your body forever.”

“I mean that wasn’t what she said verbatim. And it sounded better when she said it,” Fred insists, throwing another whizbang box at George. He cheers when it hits his brother in the chest and he ducks his head when George whips it right back at him. “And even though it’s none of your business and it had no bearing on my decision, she was hot as hell.”

When Fred returns to the shop that night his knees are shaking slightly, and he has butterflies in his stomach. He’s excited and scared at the same time, but all around ready for this new experience. Y/N is already waiting for him at the counter when he steps in the shop, and the warm smile she shoots him does wonders to calm his nerves.

“Long time no see,” he greets smoothly, coming up to stand in front of the counter again.

“Sorry who are you again?” she teases with a wink. Y/N has been looking forward to Fred’s return since the moment the shop door shut behind him. It’s rare someone as handsome and charming as Fred walks into the shop, and the chemistry between them had been too heavy to deny. Y/N’s one major rule is to refrain from sleeping with her clients, but one look at Fred’s muscles bulging in his thin t-shirt had her ready to jump over the counter and into his strong arms.

Fred gasps and places a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “Am I really that unforgettable?”

“There are many words I would use to describe you, Fred. And unforgettable is not one of them,” she responds, making her voice as sultry as possible.

Fred had a feeling Y/N had been attracted to him when he came into the shop earlier, but her confirmation leaves a warm feeling in his chest. He hasn’t stopped thinking about her since this morning and he hopes he leaves this appointment with more than just a tattoo. “Really? Care to share a few?”

“I care to share more than a few things with you, Fred. But we’ve got other things to attend to first.” Y/N bites her lip, letting her eyes rake up and down Fred’s body for a moment, before motioning for him to follow her. She leads Fred over to her station where she’d already started to get things set up. “Here’s the stencil I drew up, it’s pretty simple so I can always add more if you want.”

Fred takes the piece of paper from Y/N, letting his finger graze the back of her hand for a moment. “It’s perfect, Y/N.”

Y/N smiles at Fred taking the stencil back from him. “Great. Where do you want it to go?”

Fred bites his lip and he makes direct eye contact with Y/N as he pulls his shirt off over his head. He watches her eyes drop down to his torso for a moment and he tenses his ab muscles for a moment. “I was thinking right here,” he starts, grabbing Y/N’s attention again. He gestures to the area under his right pec. “The uh, what’s this called? Under boob area?” he chuckles.

“The pec?” she asks with a laugh, unable to keep her eyes from wandering down to Fred’s bare torso. Apart from a few random scars his skin is milky white and perfect. Obviously he takes care of his body, and Y/N can tell his muscles are hard and toned. She wants to dig her nails into his flesh, but she’ll settle with digging her tattoo needle into it first.

“The pec, right. That’s what it’s called.” As Y/N prepares to put the stencil on his skin Fred lets himself admire her. The skirt she’s wearing is short, and it exposes half of a large tattoo on her right thigh. Fred is imagining what it would feel like to sink his teeth into it, when Y/N is touching his chest lightly.

“There,” she says as she finishes putting the stencil on. “Go check it out in the mirror and see what you think. I can make it bigger or smaller if you want and we can change the placement up too.”

Fred watches as Y/N turns around to do something at her station, his eyes focused on the way the fabric of her skirt clings to her ass. When Y/N turns around and catches him looking he smirks. “Oh, was I supposed to be checking out the tattoo? My mistake.” Fred winks at her before turning towards the mirror and examining how the stencil looks on his skin.

“Look good?” Y/N asks when Fred turns back around. She sits down in her chair and motions for Fred to lay back on the table.

“Looks perfect,” Fred confirms. He feels his nerves start to return ss he climbs up on the table and lays back. He watches as Y/N pulls on a pair of gloves and smiles at her when she looks down at him. “You do have your license to do this, right? Probably should have asked that before we got this far.”

Y/N laughs. “You’re in safe hands, Fred. I promise.” She grabs her gun and turns it on before gently dips the needle into the maroon ink Fred had picked out earlier. “Let me know if you need a break or the pain is too intense, okay?”

“Roger that.” The hum of the gun is somewhat soothing to Fred and he takes a deep breath, slowly releasing it as Y/N presses the gun to the first line. “Oh,” he breathes, eyes wide. “Not as bad as I thought it would be.”

Y/N chuckles as she starts to trace the stencil, pausing for a moment to collect some more ink. “Told ya you were in safe hands.” She continues to ink Fred’s skin for a moment, trying not to pay attention to how close they are. “So why this date? You said you don’t have a girlfriend but it’s far too recent to be your birthday, unless you’re a very mature three-year-old.” she asks, trying to distract herself from how bad she wants to climb on top of him.

Fred holds in his laugh until Y/N has pulled the gun away from his skin. “It’s uh, the day that I almost died, actually,” he mumbles, wiping his sweaty palms off on his jeans. It’s been just over three years since the Battle of Hogwarts, and even though Fred’s nightmares about that night have long since stopped talking about it never fails to make him emotional.

“Oh,” Y/N says softly, starting to trace the numbers once again. “That’s um. Sorry, I’m not sure what to say. I really wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“It’s okay. That’s what all the scars are from, actually. Freak accident, a stone wall collapsed on top of me.” For a moment Fred is actually glad that he can lie to Y/N about his brush with death. Hearing that he was nearly murdered during the final battle of a war against a dark wizard is far more terrifying. “I felt powerless for a long time after it happened, which is why I wanted to get this tattoo. Take back some of the power I lost.”

“Wow, Fred. That’s really beautiful.” Y/N undeniably feels attracted to Fred, and she’s starting to realize it goes far deeper than just wanting him in her bed. He’s charismatic and charming, but there’s sincerity and softness in there too. “I got a rose for my first tattoo because it’s my Mum’s name and I figured it would make her less angry.”

Fred chuckles, thankful for Y/N’s distraction. “Did it work?”

“Not at all,” Y/N reveals. “She didn’t talk to me, for weeks. She’s okay with it now, especially since it’s my career. But yeah she was pretty pissed for a long time.”

“And that’s exactly why I don’t plan on ever telling my Mum. My older brother pierced his ear years ago and she still gives him crap about it even though he’s married with a kid now. I will never hear the end of it if she finds out about this.”

“Guess this will have to be our dirty little secret,” Y/N teases with a wink.

“As long as it’s not the only dirty think between us,” Fred fires back, smirking when her cheeks flush pink.

Y/N rolls her eyes to try and downplay how turned on she is. “Keep it in your pants a little bit longer, Fred. We’re almost done here.”

“As long as you promise to help me take it out of my pants later on,” Fred suggests with a wink.

“You’re one cheeky bastard. Has anyone ever told you that?” Y/N asks as she finishes up the tattoo. She turns her gun off and puts it down, before grabbing a paper towel to wipe off the access ink.

“Many times, though it sounds much better coming from your mouth.” Fred sits up slowly, and heads over to the mirror to examine the tattoo. The ink is the same color as his old Gryffindor Quidditch Robes and the font is simple, but Fred is completely enamored by it. His eyes trace over the numbers over and over again, like they might disappear if he looks away.

“You like it?” Y/N asks, watching Fred as she cleans her station up.

Fred turns to look at Y/N, a huge smile on his face. “It’s absolutely perfect. You did an amazing job.”

“Thank you, Fred.” Y/N feels like she’s on cloud 9, and she slowly approaches Fred so she can finish up the appointment. “Now you’ll need to wash it a few times a day with unscented soap and pat it dry with a paper towel and apply some ointment to it as well. As it heals it’ll itch like crazy but try your hardest not to scratch it. You should wear a loose shirt for the first few days, so the tattoo doesn’t stick to it.” Y/N places a piece of clingfilm on Fred’s chest, subtly feeling his hard muscles as she smoothes it out. “You have to leave this on for a few hours. Sound good?” Y/N looks up at Fred then, letting out a small gasp at how intense his gaze is.

“Sounds perfect.” As Y/N starts to pull her hands away Fred grabs them in his and brings her into his chest. He intertwines their fingers with one hand, while the other comes up to cup her cheek. “Can I kiss you?” When Y/N nods weakly Fred leans down and presses their lips together in a slow kiss.

As they kiss it starts to turn desperate and Y/N whines as Fred’s hands start to shove up the back of her shirt. “As much as I would love to fuck you right here we’d be breaking about 20 different health code violations,” Y/N pants as Fred starts to trail kisses down her neck. “There’s a staircase, in the back. It leads up to my flat. I need to fuck,” her sentence cuts off with a moan as Fred starts to suck a mark into her skin.

“I need to fuck too,” Fred jokes, pulling away from her slightly. “I’ll wait for you upstairs while you do whatever you need to down here, yeah?” Fred kisses Y/N again briefly before forcing himself away. He grabs his t-shirt and looks over his shoulder at Y/N one last time before he heads off towards her flat.

“Fucking finally,” Y/N groans a few minutes later when she’s joining Fred. She pushes him up against her front door, one of her hands grabbing his neck to pull him into a kiss, while the other goes to his crotch and palms his hardening erection through his trousers. “You have no idea how hard it was for me to not jump on you the second you laid back on that table.”

Fred moans as Y/N grips him through his trousers, her lips biting at the sensitive skin on his neck. “Do you have any idea how unbelievably sexy I find you? The second I saw you I wanted to bend you over that fucking counter and ruin you.” Fred brings their lips together again in a hot kiss as Y/N opens the door and shoves Fred into her flat.

Y/N lives in a small studio, so it’s easy for her to guide Fred over to her bed while they kiss. She pushes him back onto her bed and kicks off her shoes before climbing back over him. “Fuck I so wish you had, Fred. I spent all day thinking about your hands and your stupid arm muscles.”

“Let me show you what I can do with these hands then, princess.” Fred kicks off his shoes before flipping them over. He starts to press open mouthed kisses to the column of Y/N’s throat as his hands move under her shirt and up her torso. His hands cup her breasts, and when his thumbs rub over Y/N’s nipples he lets out a surprised gasp. “Holy fucking shit that’s hot. Take your shirt off.”

Y/N laughs as she sits up enough to pull her shirt off over her head. She tosses it away and as soon as her back is against the bed again, Fred’s hands are cupping and massaging her breasts. He’s watching her intensely and it sends a shiver down her spine. Y/N lets out a low moan as Fred’s thumbs start to toy with the silver barbells in her nipples.

Fred leans down and takes one of her nipples into his mouth, moaning when the cool metal touches his warm tongue. The tip of the tongue joys with the jewelry for a few moments before Fred’s teeth nibble at the sensitive bud. Y/N’s moans spur him on, and he starts to grind his erection against her thigh. “You are so fucking sexy, Y/N.”

“More, Fred, please,” Y/N pants. Fred’s every manipulation on her breasts is sending shocks of pleasure right to her aching core, and Y/N is desperate for more. “Show me what else your hands can do.”

Fred reluctantly gets off of the bed to rid himself of the rest of his clothes, motioning for Y/N to do the same. “Can’t wait to bury my fingers in you,” Fred growls as he settles back in between Y/N’s legs. He bends Y/N’s knees and pushes her thighs back as far as they’ll go so she’s completely spread open for him. He starts to slowly trail his fingers up her thigh watching as goosebumps erupt in their wake. “Such a pretty pussy you have, princess. And so wet too.” Fred’s thumb starts to slowly rub through Y/N’s folds, his eyes watching Y/N’s face. “This all for me, princess?”

Y/N moans as Fred’s thumb starts to slowly rub circles on her clit. “All for you Fred, fuck. Need more, please.”

“Need what?” he teases, his index finger slowly starting to trace her dripping entrance. “Need my fingers to fuck your desperate cunt?”

“Fred,” Y/N moans as he finally sinks his index finger into her. She starts to toy with her nipples as he adds another finger, slowly curling them as he pumps them in and out of her.

“Such a tight cunt, princess,” Fred coos. He watches as Y/N writhes underneath him, mesmerized by the way her teeth tug at her bottom lip. “My cock might split you in two if I try and fuck you.” Y/N lets out a low moan at that and Fred smirks. “You like that, princess? You want my cock to split you open?”

Y/N nods, too busy panting and moaning to actually answer Fred. His fingers are hitting her g-spot with every thrust and his thumb is rubbing hard circles on her clit. Arousal is building in her stomach at a rapid pace, and just the thought of Fred splitting her open on his cock nearly pushes her over the edge.

“Come on my fingers first, princess. Then I’m gonna fuck you so hard you forget your name.” Fred focuses on bringing Y/N to her climax then, quickening the speed at which his fingers are fucking into her. He replaces the thumb that’s rubbing at her clit with his mouth, immediately sucking the sensitive bud between his lips and nibbling on it gently.

“Oh fuck, Freddie,” Y/N moans as she hits her climax, her legs shutting from the pleasure, trapping Fred’s head between her thighs. He starts to moan around her clit, sending extra shockwaves of pleasure through Y/N’s body. Her back arches as another mini orgasm rips through her body, her hips grinding down onto Fred’s face. “Oh my god,” Y/N gasps as she starts to come down, her legs relaxing so Fred can sit up.

“Such a good girl princess,” he praises, bringing the fingers that had been in Y/N up to her mouth. She immediately brings them between her lips and sucks, letting her tongue wrap around them as she tastes herself on the digits. Fred’s cock twitches as he imagines her mouth wrapped around something else, and he has to pull his fingers away to keep from coming at the sight. “You taste so good, don’t you princess?”

Y/N hums in confirmation, and she reaches up to grab Fred, pulling him down into a kiss. She lets her tongue roam around his mouth, moaning into it. “Fuck me Fred, please. Need you now.”

Fred grabs one of Y/N’s legs and hitches it over his shoulder, gripping the base of his cock to line up with her entrance. Her folds are glistening, and he can’t resist letting the tip of his cock run through them. “Such a warm cunt, princess. Gonna make my cock feel so good.” Fred starts to slowly push his hips forward not stopping until his hips are pushed flush to Y/N’s. “Oh my fuck, princess. Such a tight little pussy you have. Gripping my cock so well.”

“Move Fred, please,” Y/N begs, her own hips starting to buck up in search of friction. “Fuck me hard, please. Want you to ruin me.”

Fred leans over Y/N and braces himself on one of his hands, starting to pound into her relentlessly. “Not gonna touch your clit, princess,” Fred grunts as he lands a hard thrust. “Wanna see if I can get you to come from just my cock.”

Y/N moans and grips Fred’s shoulders with her hands to avoid touching herself. Fred is fucking into her deeply, and the head of his cock is rubbing her g-spot with every movement. “Stretching me out so good, Freddie,” Y/N groans. “Feel so full. Love being full of your cock.”

Fred leans down to peck Y/N’s lips several times before his head dips down to briefly toy with her nipple. “Fuck, princess. Making such pretty noises for me.” Y/N’s mouth is hanging open, a mixture of moans, pants and whines leaving her lips. “Can I try something, princess? Let me know if you don’t like it okay?”

“I trust you, Fred.”

Fred wraps the hand he isn’t supporting himself on around Y/N’s throat, just barely applying pressure to the sides. He groans as her walls tighten around his cock, applying just a bit more pressure. “This okay, princess? Need to hear your words.”

“Yes, Fred,” Y/N gasps. “Choke me harder.” When Fred applies more pressure Y/N’s eyes roll to the back of her head, her walls clenching and twitching around Fred as she suddenly hits her climax.

“Such a good girl, princess. So good for me,” Fred praises, releasing Y/N’s throat so she can breathe normally as she comes down from her orgasm. “Gonna come, princess. Can I fill you up? Wanna be full of my come?”

Y/N nods, clenching around Fred to help him reach his climax. “Fill me up Fred, please. Wanna feel your cum dripping down my thighs.”

That does it for Fred, and his hips stutter as he starts to shoot his load deep inside of Y/N. He rolls his hips slowly as he comes down, only pulling out when his cock has finished twitching. He stays between Y/N’s legs for a moment, watching her folds flutter as some of his release starts to drip out of her and down onto the bed. He collapses on the bed next to Y/N and opens an arm for her to cuddle into his chest.

“Fuck that was hot,” she giggles, pressing a few kisses to Fred’s sweaty skin. One of her arms winds around his waist, squeezing slightly. “You can stay the night. If you want. No pressure or anything,” she rambles, embarrassment washing over her.

Fred tilts her chin up, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to her lips. “Darling, not even a fire would get me up out of this bed away from you.”

When Fred wakes up in the morning Y/N is still asleep, cuddled up under the blanket with his t-shirt on. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead before getting out of bed and stumbling to the bathroom. Before they passed out, Y/N had shown him how to properly take care of his tattoo and he starts to repeat the process. Once it’s clean and he’s applied a thin layer of ointment, Fred just let’s his finger trace over the fresh ink, watching himself in the mirror.

“So? Do you regret it?” Y/N asks, leaning against the doorway to the bathroom.

Fred turns to look at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “The tattoo? Or the sex?”

Y/N ponders his questions for a moment. “Both.”

“No to both,” Fred answers honestly. He opens his arms, and Y/N immediately presses herself against his front, winding her arms around his middle. Fred grips her waist with one hand, while the other starts to gently rub her back.

“When do you think you’ll want more?” Y/N asks, looking up at Fred.

“Tattoos? Or sex?” he asks with a grin.

“Both,” Y/N repeats.

Fred bites his lip. “Tattoo maybe in a few weeks, once this one is healed up. But the sex? I’d say right now.” He leans down to press a kiss to Y/N’s mouth, slowly walking them back over to her bed.

#fred weasley #Fred Weasley smut #fw #golden

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glitteryglitter · 3 years ago

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gold rush

𝙰𝙽: I wrote this on my porch listening to Britney Spears, while it was raining. it was EVERYTHING

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: None, I think!

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Clove X Belcourt! Fem! Reader

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1158

๑*˚🍓˚*๑

"That has got to be the most gorgeous girl I have ever seen"

Y/n didn't realize the words had left her mouth until she saw her sister staring at her with a knowing smile.

"Y/n! You're here! I thought you'd never make it. Due to the fact that you're clearly in love with Clove"

"Glimmer, I was 5 minutes late. Also, I am not in love with her! We don't even know each other!"

"Y/n you've walked home with me every day for the past two years. If you really think I wouldn't notice you staring at Clove, you're wrong. You're clearly in looooooove!" Glimmer cooed.

"I'm not in love with her! I just admire her. A lot!" Y/n protested

Suuuure that's what you always say! Then a few months later it's all "Glim, can you sew me a dress? I'm busy and she might ask me on a date! And Glim! Do my shoes match my nails? I want to impress her!"

Y/n gave her sister a look.

"Come on, it's time for you to meet her!"

"No, no no don't do it"

Unfortunately, Glimmer's excited waving got Clove's attention.

she looked up and smiled, carefully putting down several knives

"if I have to flirt with her for you, I swear..." Glimmer hissed through gritted teeth

"Glim, I will kill you! Y/n whispered back

She merely laughed.

"It's time for you to get to know Clove!"

Glimmer dragged y/n by the wrist towards where the dark-haired girl was talking with a tall blond boy.

"This is my sister, Y/n, she was admiring yo-"

Y/n clapped a hand over Glimmer's mouth before she could spill anything of importance.

"Hi, I'm Y/n! You must be Clove?"

The girl nodded and smiled.

"Your sister told me about you! you're even prettier than she described! And so far, a lot less irritating."

Had Clove just called her pretty?

Y/n forgot to breathe for a few seconds and merely smiled.

That is, until Glimmer's voice came from behind them.

"Rude!"

Y/n turned and came face to face with her sister.

She'd forgotten how good she was at eavesdropping.

Clove sighed

"Glimmer, It's so great to see you again. Especially since I thought I'd be rid of you by now..."

"Oh come on, What's not to love about me? I have a gorgeous sister who's very single and my family owns the most luxurious boutique in district one!"

"That right there! That's unlikable!"

"Suuure, Kentwell. Dream on! Just try to hate me. It's impossible!"

"Wow, Glimmer that was really smooth" Y/n whispered

"Y/n, not you too! You're supposed to defend me!"

Thankfully, Glimmer had unknowingly saved her sister from a potentially very awkward conversation.

๑*˚🍓˚*๑

As soon as the two had left the training center, Y/n pulled her sister aside. "Glim, have you been trying to set me up with her?" she shrieked

"Well, it's obvious that you're starstruck, but if you'd rather fend for yourself..."

"I'm not starstruck!"

Glimmer raised an eyebrow

"Okay fine, maybe I am a little starstruck. That doesn't matter though! How do I even tell her I like her!"

"I thought you'd never ask!"

All through the walk home, the two Belcourt sisters discussed getting Clove's attention.

"I don't even know if she likes me that much! I mean we've talked once. Today. Because of you!"

"Y/n she called you pretty. I'd say you have a shot"

"Well, yes, but lots of people can call you pretty, but it doesn't mean they all want to date you"

"Oh, believe me. She wants to date you"

"But how do you know"

"Y/n I have my ways! I just know. Just wear something fabulous tomorrow. You're going to talk to her again whether either of you like it or not!"

๑*˚🍓˚*๑

Y/n had one more hour to prepare for Clove.

She didn't really know why she was even doing this, she'd only met the girl once officially and she had no idea what could possibly happen in 24 hours.

The whole idea seemed a bit ridiculous, but for some reason, it felt a bit like Y/n was working towards something instead of doing nothing at all.

She smiled as she found a small pink skirt and a frilly blouse and got to accessorizing.

She would look stunning, she was sure of it.

As Y/n poked around her closet searching for accessories, she felt her mind going back to clove, wondering if she'd like the bracelet with a heart better than the floral one?

would she think y/n's rings were excessive?

What about necklaces?

She had to look absolutely fabulous if she wanted to get Clove, that's what her sister had been hinting at, of course, but she just didn't know what to do!

She barely knew her and she was already trying to get noticed.

What was she doing?

Y/n knew it wasn't just her sister who was to blame.

She'd always loved the idea of romance as well.

She just really did want to find someone.

Someone who was truly unforgettable and made her heart skip.

A certain someone Y/n knew definitely fit that description.

As Y/n spritzed herself with a cloud of her favorite perfume, she glanced in the mirror.

The girl she saw looking back at her was immaculate.

Glimmer would've been proud.

Y/n took a deep breath and smiled.

She could practically see her sister in the back of her mind nodding approvingly and telling her to go after Clove.

"Go get your girl, Y/n! Before she's gone for good"

Just as Y/n stepped out of her family's boutique, ready to meet Clove, she saw two sisters walking down the street.

They had nervous looks on their faces and were clutching their shopping bags so hard, their knuckles were turning white.

As they walked closer to her, Y/n noticed them from school.

They weren't really close, but they'd always been kind to her and glimmer.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

She'd never seen anyone that stressed before.

"Y/n I'm so sorry." one of the girls looked up at her.

She was confused. Why was the girl sorry?

Her sister nudged her and whispered something in the other's ear.

"Oh- Y/n I don't know if I should tell you. Glimmer should be the one to break the news, we're here for you though. If you ever need anything..."

Y/n noticed a small group of people staring at her from across the street.

She felt a sense of unease growing.

There was something really wrong happening.

"No, please! Tell me! What's going on?"

The other sister pursed her lips.

"Glimmer's been selected to volunteer at the reaping."

"Oh."

Y/n didn't know what to do.

She knew that her sister was talented and very well-liked. Of course, she was!

the Belcourt family was extremely well known and it seemed too fitting that the sister who wasn't set to take over the store would be selected.

That lead Y/n to another thought.

Clove.

๑*˚🍓˚*๑

Question: should I do a part 2?

#clove kentwell #clove #The Hunger Games #the hunger games imagine #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games imagines #THG #thg x reader #clove x reader

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21u004 · 3 years ago

Text

the last / okkotsu yuuta / april 4th, 2021

okkotsu yuuta is not an early bird.

he doesn’t like getting up before the sun, but he learned to love it when he once watched it rise with you. he doesn’t like cold showers in the morning, but he’s willing to take them to be presentable for you. he doesn’t like alarms, but he’s willing to make as many as he can to wake up with you.

yuuta is not an early bird, but at 5 in the morning, fully-dressed and awake, he’s in front of an old convenience store, six feet away from where you sat down.

reluctant to call out your name, his gaze and shoulders heavy with unnecessary guilt.

he eventually greets you.

“good morning,” he tells you at 5:16 a.m.

his voice is raspy, possibly from how it’s only been 53 minutes since he woke up.

you don’t mind it anyways; you’ve gotten used to hearing its soft whispers of “good morning” whenever he comes by your place to pick you up, or the lighthearted bursts of laughter when he finds himself in a stupid situation, or how he leans into your ear to tell you how wonderful you look when it’s too crowded and you’re struck with unpleasant thoughts.

it takes you minutes to reply, hesitant and distracted with thoughts wondering why he was here even if it had been you that called him over last night.

he figures you haven’t noticed him yet, so he takes three steps towards you.

one for each year you both spent calling and finding home in each other.

the first year, when you first ask him to go stargazing with you even though there were barely even stars at night with how bright the city is.

the second year, when he’s not-so-shy to let you know about how he carries an extra scarf from fall until spring because he’s memorized your forgetfulness.

the third year, when things start to fall apart, but you’re both still able to mend it back together. (or pretend that it’s fixed.)

and the fourth—

“you really came, huh,” your voice is low and almost inaudible except for the pained chuckle at the end of your sentence.

full of regret, your head hangs low. maybe it wasn’t a good idea to have invited him.

he was stupid to have actually come anyway.

and honestly, he didn’t want to come had it been someone else that invited him out at morning.

but it’s you who invited him, and he’s never been able to say no to you. not when he doesn’t like seeing you disappointed.

“of course,” he lowers his gaze to the ground, unable to look at you without feeling his head and chest ache every second. “you know i’d never flake out on you.”

—then why was there never a fourth year?

something stings your eyes and blur your vision for a moment.

they’re gone when you blink, leaving behind a wet trail down your cheek that was quick to dry when the breeze passes you by.

a sore, forced laugh leaves your lips, followed by a cough that has him rushing to your side and patting your back gently while worried eyes watch over you for every second that passed by.

“are you okay?” despite his hoarse and harsh-sounding voice, his tone is sweet and mellow, dipped in genuine concern, rough hands handling you delicately.

everything’s silent other than your cough resonating in the empty parking lot and his soft pats on your back ringing in your ears. it remains empty aside from the two of you.

too bad it wasn’t open for 24 hours so that there would be a few vehicles around or aisles for you to hide behind and then you wouldn’t have to face him.

that’s what you’ve always done though.

run away from reality and its problems.

it’s time for you to face it again.

“sorry,” you cough into your elbow. “yeah, i’m fine.”

yuta knows about how often you lie about your condition, so he asks one more time in hopes of getting an honest answer.

a nod is all he gets. he doesn’t question you again.

he wants to though.

he wants to ask if you’re okay and if you two can try again.

still, he doesn’t because he knows that he’s going to get both a ‘yes’ and a 'no’, and he knows which answer belonged to which question.

backing away from you, he sits when he deems the distance between you two not too far nor too close. you’re more than a hand’s reach, and that’s enough for him. he wants to be closer, but to have you around is already enough for him.

it’s already 5:28.

time passes too quickly.

despite wanting to cherish the moment, sit in silence and hopefully, peace as well, he stops his stalling and questions your need to see him in the morning when there’s so much more time left on the clock.

as he’s fulfilled your desire to meet him, you fulfill his of basking in the stillness of the world—with you.

you, and not someone else.

you, because you’re the one he wants to have around.

you, because he—

—loves you.

he loves you, and not someone else, because he can’t see himself with anyone else other than you.

(and he’ll keep on loving you, even if you tell him to stop for his sake and yours.)

“do you still remember?” you mumble in your folded arms on your knees. “when we first met.”

of course he does. it was somewhat unusual and unforgettable aside from the fact that the place you’re both at right now is where you two met.

a cold, lonely dawn spent at an empty parking lot of a convenience store. two kids feeling empty and drained until he decided to strike up a conversation with you, wondering why you were there when you could ask him the same. neither of you judged each other about it though, understanding one another regardless being in different situations.

that’s when you both got on the same vehicle and drove to a road that led to now.

it was like any other roadtrip, fun yet tiring, but neither of you realized that when everything was romanticized since the moment you two got on. it really was stupid of you two to think that meeting at a convenience store was romantic because it’s not.

it really was stupid of you to ignore the warning signs.

“yeah,” scratching his nape, he tilts his head to get a glimpse of your face, but he only sees your back. “we danced around even though there wasn’t any music playing.”

“it was dumb,” you turn away from him as if you were going to get the urge remake the mistakes you made then if you saw his undeniably pretty features.

“it was fun though,” a shy, embarrassed smile tugs at his lips. he hopes you’re smiling too.

“wanna do it again?”

this was dumber.

though you’re not going to make the same mistakes again. this was the end already, after all. there’s no more mistakes to be made when there’s no choices to be made.

the deep inhale of the cold air stings your lungs as you finally face him for the first time today, standing up and holding a hand out to him.

he swallows the last bit of hesitance that was preventing him from taking your hand, then starts to pull you into him.

“still no music?” one of his hands run to your waist.

you answer him as he’s about to intertwine his other with yours by taking out your phone and a slow, gloomy melody begins to play. it echoes in the empty space lightly when you settle it on the cold cement floor.

no comments were made about the choice of music. his hand rests on your waist while yours on his shoulder, the others laced together.

for a moment, you’re both back to the start.

dwelling in the glum atmosphere, savoring each other’s company.

still unable to look each other in the eye so you two opt for the ground or anywhere other than the eyes or face. stiffly and awkwardly swaying, feet pausing every few seconds in doubt, choosing which steps to take because it’s not used to dancing.

bathing in the lowlight of mornings that turn into something better because that’s what you two are good at: romanticizing the hopeless and the unromantic.

“i wanted to have a last dance with you,” you mutter, afraid he hears it. “that’s why.”

with the little space between your bodies, he does hear it. like your first meeting, he doesn’t judge you for it. he likes dancing with you anyways.

“it doesn’t have to be the last one,” he wishes to say but it remains as a thought, the lack of courage not allowing him to use his voice. knowing he’s going to regret doing so later, he still keeps them to himself.

so instead, he says something else.

“we can always dance again, if you’d like.”

fuck.

that’s even worse. (is it?)

on his shoulder, he feels your fingers claw at him. he wasn’t supposed to say that. at least he doesn’t mind it, but maybe you do.

you said it yourself, this was the last. maybe you said that because you didn’t want to anymore, he overthinks.

with closed eyes, your fingers loosen up on the cotton material, relaxing and exhaling slowly through your nose.

“that's—” he tenses up at your voice.

“that’s cool.”

did he hear you right?

“i don’t mind dancing with you again but,” the corner of your lips curl up, a burning sensation in your lungs when you inhale the cold morning air and finish your sentence. “someone might.”

someone, meaning the person you see himself with in your stead. the person whom you’re convinced is better than you. the person whom you’re convinced is more fitting for him, unlike you.

your eyes meet, and he can see through you.

you always lied about how you felt, until now.

it’s all obvious with the way your voice stutters, eyes falter, and hands tremble; with how you avoid his gaze as much as you can because it’s become unbearable to look at him without having your heart be spared from being torn into little pieces.

yuuta’s done beating around the bushes. biting his lip, his hands squeeze your waist and hand, his gaze shaky.

“you didn’t have to end this.”

having enough of it, too much for him to contain, he bursts into tears and lays his head on your shoulder, shuddering and holding onto you tightly, as if that was ever going to stop you from letting go.

“it was better for the both of us.”

the music gets drowned out by his choked sobs, the sky growing a little brighter than before each minute.

the sun rises slowly and lights up the dark corners of the world, and there’s nothing you can do but watch another day begin again.

there’s nothing you can do to stop yuuta crying.

there was nothing you could do to stop yourself from falling out of love.

(and even if you could prevent it, the road was always going to lead here.)

and as your shoulder gets soaked in tears, while you softly tug at the black tufts of his hair, you remember that there never was a fourth year because you—your insecurities—cut it off before he could. (because he never would, and neither would you.)

at your reply, he wonders why he even came here in the first place. was it because he was hopeful that you’d take him back again? (definitely.)

it’s too early for this, and okkotsu yuuta is not an early bird.

he doesn’t like getting up before the sun, but today, he did just for you. he doesn’t like cold showers in the morning, but today, he took them to be presentable for you. he doesn’t like alarms, but last night, he made as many as he could to make sure he doesn’t wake up late and make you wait for nothing.

yuuta is not an early bird, so he faces the consequences of being left.

(while he’s busy facing his consequences, you’re facing yours: having to wake up knowing he’s someone else’s because of you.)

(you never wanted to leave, but it was better than to have him abandon you.)

(even if he never was going to.)

#unedited #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk angst #okkotsu yuuta x reader

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ambrosiaaddiction · 4 years ago

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Have A Little Faith

Word Count: 1,783

Summary: You are at Lady Danbury’s evening ball, which is the perfect opportunity to find a potential suitor so that you can finally settle down. But of course, it’s not as easy as it sounds. You’ve found yourself standing far away from everyone else, and just when you think tonight will be fruitless, your childhood friend, Anthony Bridgerton, changes all of the thoughts inside your head.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Tonight was the night where I needed to do a little flirting with men I have never personally met, and hopefully, I’ll impress them with my charms. That’s if they would gauge their attention onto me instead of whatever they wanted to boast about.

Mama practically talked my ear off when we were upon arriving Lady Danbury’s estate, but Richard distracted her with the topic of his new fiancée like the eldest brother he is. I still hadn’t thanked him for his act of bravery, although, that could wait for when we were in the carriage.

In my mind, I ventured on about whether or not he would be at the ball. The last time we’ve met was nearly three days ago when our families agreed to have a picnic in celebration of a newborn baby coming into the world. As much as I enjoyed engaging in social encounters, I had been more comfortable with reading alone in my room.

But alas, he persuaded me to join everyone outside where we could eat and share jokes under the warm sun together. Since then, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his shoulder brushed against mine more than enough times to call it accidental.

The man even offered to feed me a sandwich and delectable piece of scone he had already bitten into. Luckily for the two of us, our families were too immersed with doting over the aforementioned newborn baby to realize what we were doing.

Viscount Bridgerton, informally known as Anthony or Bridgerton by both family and close friends. I was not exempt from the latter formalities, although, I’ve always wondered what my life would be like if I had not crossed paths with him.

He is everything and more when Lady Whistledown wrote about him in her society’s paper last Tuesday. And to be quite frank, he needed to work for what he wanted rather than let it fall into his lap.

It seemed unfathomable the way he charmed his way through women of the ton while simultaneously rejecting them. I found it entertaining to see the crestfallen faces of girls my age, but am I to blame for their naïveté?

Anthony Bridgerton is a Rake through and through, which I can say with the utmost certainty because I am his childhood friend.

Now, don’t get me wrong. He loves his mother and siblings in place of his late father, and he is very passionate in regards of his interests. That includes women who have a pretty face and have given him an unforgettablely good time.

But this did not excuse the trail of broken hearts as well as tearful confessions behind the Viscount. Although a bit discouraging for someone who harbored feelings for the man, I always kept a smile on my face whenever we had a conversation with one another.

Anthony was extremely well-versed in politics, social skills, and the economy. There were times when I tested him on a popular topic in the papers, which as expected, he excelled.

I should not be thinking about the past at this hour. Everyone around me was dancing, drinking their glasses of champagne, and looking for someone to court. Letting out a deep sigh, I brush off a speck of invisible dust from the hem of my dress.

That’s when I see him, politely making his way through the crowd to go to where I am. A silent panic breaks my former calm demeanor, and I quickly stand taller to seem more presentable. It does not go unnoticed in the slightest, thus Anthony chuckles behind a hand then he stands before me in his handsome glory.

“Good evening, Miss Willows. How are you enjoying the ball so far?” There’s a mischievous glint behind those mesmerizing brown eyes, but onlookers would mistake it as a completely different emotion. “Hello, Lord Bridgerton. I’m much comfortable standing on the sidelines rather than dancing the night away. Thank you for asking, my lord.”

He shakes his head with amusement, and he finds my honest reply to be of a different mood compared to the other young women. “Then you shan’t refuse my offer to dance the night away, Miss Willows.” I furrow my brows in confusion and not a moment later, I’m swept onto the dance floor.

I’ve not the chance to process all that has happened, but Anthony keeps me focused on him and only him. He lowers his head to whisper words of encouragement, and I flush like a rose when he sneaks a kiss on the apple of my cheek. It’s too much for me to understand why he chose me instead of any other woman he wanted in the ball room.

“I’m relieved to see that you’re not stepping on my feet, and how beautiful your smile glows, Miss Willows.” I’m temporarily rendered speechless as to why he’s suddenly being quite the gentleman towards me. If it weren’t for the bystanders, he and I would be playfully bantering nonstop about the most random things we could think of.

“Anthony, tell me, what’s gotten into you? I appreciate the change of attitude, but it’s not the Bridgerton I know.” He’s unresponsive for a minute, then two. I can feel his grip on my waist tighten and the subtle action to bring our bodies closer. I’m not sure how I should react, but I needn’t say anything at all when he spins me around.

“My mother wants me to find a young lady to court because she’s tired of me being a bachelor for most of my life.” “Well, I can’t say I’m not surprised because she’s right.” I’m quick to give my reply, and he briefly glares down at me. “Oh, come now, Anthony. Even Lady Whistledown knows about your spectacular reputation and preferences.”

“Yes, but that’s all she knows about me, y/n. I just don’t think I’m capable of settling down with a family of my own in the near future.” The song comes to an end, and we bow before walking together for some refreshments. I say my hellos to several couples, single lords, and some of my friends when we come across them.

“That is a lie because from my knowledge, you’re the spitting image and exact replica of your father, Anthony Bridgerton.” “Y/n, I’m grateful to have met an extraordinary woman like yourself, but sometimes you get on my nerves.” That stabbed me right in the heart. Alright, perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned his late father, but he didn’t have to be so harsh.

“Look, all I’m saying is that you can marry whoever you want to, but you’d most definitely choose a woman with the same personality as yours.” I watch him take a swig from his wine glass, and then he points it at me. Narrowing my eyes as I brace myself for possible humiliation, he sets down the glass and takes my hand to drag me off to someplace other than where we were now.

I won’t lie when I say that I was nervous yet excited to find out where he was taking me. Benedict, Colin, and Eloise all looked our way then at their mother, and I could tell that they had connected the dots. It was a good thing that Lady Bridgerton found her happy place with alcohol, otherwise she would’ve stopped Anthony in his tracks.

We eventually reach our destination, which so happens to be one of countless rooms that was conveniently far away for anyone to hear. Don’t tell me... “Anthony, what are we doing over here? Shouldn’t we be with all those people, and dancing the night away?”

No answer from my captor. He seemed to be in deep thought, and I scoffed in disbelief. I most certainly did not want to spend the rest of my time on my friend, especially when he wouldn’t tell me why he brought me here. “Look, I came to this ball to find a suitor. If you won’t answer me, then—“

Before I knew it, his lips were on mine. The hand that was once squeezing my waist found its rightful place, and the other gently brushed my hair back. I fluttered my eyes closed, letting myself melt in his embrace as we kissed with a fiery passion I knew that had always been between us.

A few moments later, he pulled away then buried his face into the crook of my neck. I felt him inhale then exhale, as though he was trying to control himself from doing something I hadn’t done before. “I want you, y/n. But only if you’ll allow me to court you. We have gone through thick and thin in our childhood, and I want nothing more to continue for the rest of our lives.”

The Viscount Anthony Bridgerton was asking for my consent to be courted, and I would be delusional to reject his confession. I’ve never seen him so sincere and vulnerable like this before, and it made me giggle. He must’ve thought that I was going to refuse his offer, but I snake my arms around his neck then kiss his soft lips for reassurance.

“I’ve never thought you would ask, Anthony. But this means no more secret meetings, alright? If I hear an inkling about you being where you’ve told me you wouldn’t be at, then I’m ending things. Am I clear, Bridgerton?” He swallows thickly and nods, so I’m rather grateful that my warning has gotten through.

I bring my hands to cup his face, and I now see how much he adores me the way he relaxes against my touch. Unfortunately, we’ve been gone for far too long, but I don’t doubt that he’ll come up with a reasonable excuse to his worrying mama.

Anthony kisses the top of my head before taking my hand and leading me back the way we came. I intertwine our fingers to which he brings up to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “It might be too soon to say this, but I absolutely and undoubtedly love you, y/n Willows. I promise to cherish you for as long as I am going to live.”

It takes a bit for me to absorb the sudden declaration, but I’m not complaining whatsoever. All that mattered was that we shared equal affection for one another, and we were willing to work for a bright, lovely lifestyle ahead of us. “And I wholeheartedly love you, Anthony Bridgerton. You are mine for eternity,”

Some might say that we were too inexperienced when it came to love, but we ignored their opinions. Like my mama used to tell me when I was a child, “Have a little faith.”

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #romance

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greenteaandtattoos · 4 years ago

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Sunsets and Stitches: A Forest Fire Siblings One-Shot

“Hey, Oscar!”

The hazel-eyed boy looked up as his name was called. He had been washing some dishes after the rations for the refugees had gone out. He recognized the voice. He spotted a blonde-bushy-haired girl striding over to where he stood. It was Yang. Even though it had been nearly a week since team RWBY - and Jaune - had returned to Remnant and reunited with everyone in Vacuo, Oscar couldn’t help the stab of relief in his chest at the sight of her.

Sometimes, he woke up in the morning in a panic, fear that their heart-felt reunion had been only a dream. Especially when it came to a certain red-clad girl… The feeling of Ruby’s arms around him, embracing him tightly, was a feeling so foreign yet so unforgettable at the same time.

“Oscar.” Oscar let out a small huff as a voice reverberated in his head, pulling him from the memory. Ozpin had been interrupting his thoughts and daydreams about Ruby every chance he got, scolding him about getting distracted in a time of war.

“Hey, Yang,” Oscar greeted, turning his attention to her as she approached. “What can I do for you?” Yang towered over him by a few feet, her wavy hair pulled up into a ponytail and cascading down her back like a field of wheat in the wind, glowing gold in the setting sun’s light. Her lavender eyes were unusually neutral, a change from the usual fiery determination that blazed in them. Oscar frowned and even Ozpin noticed something was amiss with his former student, concern pulsing from the wizard.

“It seems like you have a problem,” she informed him knowingly. Oscar felt his face redden and anxiety wormed its way into his stomach. Did she know? Yang was Ruby’s older sister, and was very protective of her. If she found out about his crush on her baby sister… He gulped.

Oz agreed, it might not turn out well. Especially with Yang’s very… vocal feelings towards him. She had forgiven him for hiding his secrets and then abandoning them, but she was still wary of the ages-old wizard, and she wasn’t the best at keeping her emotions to herself.

Yang raised a hand, and Oscar automatically tensed. However, her hand came to rest gently atop his head. Mischief glinted in her eyes, and a smile spread across her face.

“Your hair is a mess!” she exclaimed, ruffling his thick chocolate locks. “Have you ever grown out your hair before?” Oscar blinked, allowing himself to process what was going on, then let out an audible breath of relief. Ozpin hummed in amusement.

He played off his breath with a laugh. “No, never.” He raised a hand and ran it through his hair. He had decided to try and grow out his hair once they had gotten to Vacuo. Ren and Nora had supported his idea, the former giving tips on how to wash it and brush it to keep it from getting tangled. He hadn’t been doing so well, though. The wind blew sand into it on a daily basis and the sun dried it out, bleaching it to a pale brown.

Yang pulled her hand away and jabbed a thumb at her hair. “Well, lucky for you, I have. C’mon, let’s do something about this travesty.” She began to lead the way into the cool shade of the dorms, where they had all been staying. Once she had gotten Oscar comfy in a chair, she began to ruffle through some drawers and duffle bags.

He watched curiously as she pulled out a brush, some hair ties, and some other hair products. “I feel the need to warn you,” Ozpin started, his voice light with amusement, “That Ms. Xiao Long takes hair care very seriously.” Oscar smiled nervously as the said huntress dropped everything onto the desk in front of him and began arranging them.

“What does that mean?” Oscar inquired. “It means that you should probably do exactly what she tells you to in regards to your hair,” was his reply.

“Alright, kiddo,” Yang said, stretching her arms above her head and cracking her fingers. “Let’s get this mess fixed.”

Luckily, there was a mirror in front of him, so he watched anxiously as she picked up a hair brush and began to brush it through his locks. To his surprise, she was very gentle, starting at the ends, brushing through them with practiced expertise. He hissed lightly as the bristles came into contact with a particularly stubborn knot.

“Sorry,” she grunted. “The desert has really done a number to your hair.” Oscar scratched at one hand. “I should probably have asked for some hair tips before now, huh” he joked. Yang snorted. “I think we were all worried about more... pressing issues back then.”

Oscar instinctively raised his hand to run it through his hair - a habit he did whenever he was nervous or embarrassed - only for Ozpin’s warning to come too late and he felt the sting as Yang slapped his hand down.

“Ow!” he yelped quietly. “Hands down!” Yang barked. “Do you want this to be as painless as I can make it, or not?” Oscar rubbed his hand. “Sorry, mom,” he apologized dryly. Yang hmphed and continued with her work, her mouth twisting in concentration.

“It might be best to just rest your hands,” Ozpin suggested. “Easy for you to say,” Oscar grumbled internally. Oscar’s uncomfortableness with physical contact was well-known to the others, and he appreciated Yang’s slow strokes and gentle hold, no doubt to try and put him at ease. However, he often struggled to keep himself still, finding too much energy within himself. Holding Long Memory helped calm him, but he didn’t have it with him now. He was trapped between a desk and a dragon.

He elected to rest one hand on the desk, listlessly playing with the cracks in the wood, and dropped one hand to his shirt. He rubbed his thumb on the embroidered rose that he had asked Coco to stitch onto the hem. He traced the soft curve of the petals and the long stem as Yang worked.

Yang’s eyes glanced down to where his hand had fallen, her gaze zeroing in on the rose. Her lips thinned. “I don’t think I’ve gotten to tell you that I like your outfit yet,” she said, uncharacteristically cool and controlled.

Oh, shit, Oscar thought. Ozpin agreed, though chided him for his language as he did. “It seems Ms. Xiao-Long has exercised her powers of observation,” he commented. “This might not end well.”

“Uh, thanks,” Oscar said nervously. Ozpin’s comments did not help. “Coco made it.”

The upperclassman had offered to make Emerald, Ren, Nora, and him new clothes. He remembered going up to her in private and asking for the rose, his stomach as knotty as his hair. She had agreed, and even with her sunglasses keeping her expression hidden from him, he had heard the pity in her voice and the burn of her stare on his back as he left the room.

“It suits you.” Yang’s complement dragged his attention back to the present. There was a curtness in her voice that made Oscar want to squirm. He began to trace the cracks in the wooden desk with anxious speed. “Yang, I—”

She paused, lifting the brush ever so slightly from his head. “How far along is the merge?” Yang asked suddenly. Oscar’s head drooped slightly. “Far enough,” he said. Yang was silent for a moment, then, “I see.”

Oscar squirmed in his seat in the awkward silence, and Yang placed a hand on his shoulder to still him. “But I’m still me,” he burst out. “I promised that I would do as much good as I could with the time I had left, and I meant it.” Yang’s grip on his shoulder tightened, but not enough to hurt. “And how much good will you do to my sister when you’re gone and Oz is all that is left?” she asked. “Will it be good when you’ve gone and left her with a broken heart?” Oscar wilted. She knew.

“It is for this reason that I told you to find a way to dispel your crush,” Oz pointed out, backing Yang’s argument. Oscar felt anger bubble up in his chest. “No, you told me to forget it because it made you feel awkward,” Oscar retorted. “Perhaps, but—”

Yang, who had seemingly been waiting for an answer, realized that he was conversing with Ozpin and resumed brushing, which interrupted the two as Oscar jerked his focus back to her. Right now, it was more important that he make her understand, rather than Ozpin. He had argued with over this topic many times before with him, and it always ended the same.

“Yang, I would never hurt Ruby,” he promised, putting as much sincerity in his voice as he could. “I-I really…” He paused, then took a deep breath, remembering Coco’s and Nora’s advice. “Go slow, but be honest and forthright,” they had said. So, that’s what he would do.

“I care about her,” he admitted, finally sharing his secret. “I would never do anything to hurt her.” He felt the bristles of the brush prick at his scalp. “I know,” Yang said, the bite in her voice softening. “But you don’t really have a choice. Eventually, you will merge with Oz and—”

“Oz doesn’t have anything to do with this!” Oscar burst out. Yang froze, eyes wide. “I’m the one who cares about Ruby, not Oz,” he continued forcefully. “I’ve cut my life short for him, for the world, but I deserve to be able to do something for myself while I still have the chance… don’t I?” Yang stared at him with narrowed eyes, the brush frozen amidst chocolate tangles. She seemed to contemplate his words.

“But does my sister deserve to be left broken when the inevitable finally occurs?” she finally asked after a moment. Oscar closed his eyes, and ignored Ozpin’s attempts to give his input on the matter.

“Ruby deserves happiness and peace,” he said. He crossed his hands and rested them against his heart. Even months after the torture, the area where Salem had struck him with her magic was still sensitive to the touch. “I just want to help her achieve that.”

Even with his eyes closed, he could feel Yang watching him intently through the mirror. “You and me both, kid,” Yang said. “That’s all our mom wanted for us.” Oscar’s eyes shot open at the mention of their mother, Summer Rose. Ozpin went silent at the mention of his former silver-eyed student. Blake had shared the secret of the Hound with the others after they reunited at Schnee Manor back at Atlas, and Ozpin had realized fairly quickly what happened to his former pupil.

Yang let out a small breath. “Since we seem to be spilling secrets today, I might as well share one.” Oscar turned his head to glance at her curiously, only for her hand to stop it and move it back to where it was. She began brushing his hair again.

“I can’t tell you for sure why our mother left to face Salem like she did,” she started, her voice twisting with emotion. “But, I can give you my best guess.” Oscar felt Ozpin stiffen. “It was because of Ruby.” Oscar had a feeling that was going to be the answer, but he stayed silent, allowing Yang to continue. This was her secret to share.

“Back then, Salem was still hunting down and killing silver-eyed warriors, not… what she’s doing with them now. I think… I think mom got scared because Ruby was born with silver eyes, and knew that Salem would eventually come for her.”

Ozpin remained silent, but Oscar could feel him emanating complex emotions, mixing with his own. Oscar couldn’t imagine how he was feeling, knowing that his former student had been subjected to a fate worse than death at the hands of Salem, and he hadn’t been able to do anything.

“And so, she decided to strike first, to try to get rid of the danger to her family. But whatever her plan was, it fell through and she…” she trailed off.

Sympathy surged through Oscar, and finally got a good understanding as to why Yang was so adamant with her feelings toward Oscar’s crush on Ruby. She doesn’t want Ruby to feel the pain of a loved one disappearing again.

Talking wasn’t his strongest suit, but he would be damned if he didn’t find a way to express himself to Yang. “Oscar, wait,” Ozpin warned. “This isn’t a good idea.” Oscar took a deep breath. “You’re wrong,” he told the wizard firmly. “This may not seem like a good idea to you, but it’s what’s best for me.”

He met her gaze through the mirror. Her eyes glistened, though there were no tears.

“I understand that you want to protect Ruby from experiencing such pain ever again. But so do I,” he told her, conviction strong in his voice. “I promise you, merge or not, I will help protect her. But, she isn’t some helpless girl, either. She knows that the merge will happen.” He paused, thinking back to her . “But she has never seen me as Ozpin,” he continued. “She chose to be my friend, despite my circumstances, just as I chose to remain by her side.”

Yang quirked a brow at his response, and for a moment, Oscar feared that he angered her. Then, she burst out laughing. “Stay friends with you, eh?” Oscar frowned, confused by her reaction. “What, you don’t think we should even be friends?” Anxiety and anger fluttered in his chest. Wanting to protect Ruby from heartbreak by keeping him from admitting his feelings towards her was one thing, but to disapprove of her friendship with him entirely?

Yang coughed, her laughter dying down. “No, no. If only you two would remain just friends.” She put the brush down on the desk and picked up a hair tie, bright gold in color. “But, you have a point. Your life is your own, and my sister isn’t a baby anymore, not like she was when mom disappeared. Each of you can make your own choices.”

Though pleased that Yang’s disapproval had lessened somewhat, her words still confused him. “Why did you laugh at the notion that she wants to stay friends with me?” he inquired. “Oh, Oscar,” Ozpin sighed. “And here I thought Ms. Rose was the clueless one when it came to people.” Oscar’s brow furrowed. “Hey,” he scoffed indignantly.

Suddenly, Yang took a handful of his hair, gripping it hard enough that he yelped. “Really, Oscar,” she said. “Who knew that the one person you misjudge is the one person you like?” Oscar blinked at the connotations. “I-I misjudged that she wants to be friends with me? Has she said something? Does she not want to be friends with me anymore?” He began to fret. Had he done something? Said something? Was he too similar to Ozpin?

Yang pulled and bunched up his hair into a loose ponytail. “You said it yourself,” she said. “She can make her own choices. Why don’t you ask her?” As Oscar fretted to himself, she slipped the ponytail around the base of the ponytail, then wrapped it around his hair three times, until it stood up on its own. Yang stepped back. “All done!”

Momentarily distracted from his worries, Oscar instantly reached back to feel it. It was a small ponytail, but it held firm. He checked it out in the mirror. The golden hair tie stood out stark against his dark hair. It seemed to blaze as rays of sunlight struck it, like a ring of golden fire, from where they filtered through the window to his right as the sun sank further below the dunes. “Not a bad look for you,” Ozpin commented.

Oscar turned to Yang. “Thanks… for everything.” Yang put a hand on her hips, a grateful smile on her face. “No problem. I think we both needed it.” Oscar nodded. A relief had lifted from his chest, though worry over Ruby’s thoughts on their friendship still bubbled in his stomach.

Yang seemed to notice and patted his shoulder. “Hey, how I feel about your feelings toward my sister doesn’t mean anything, in the long run. As you said, she can make her own choices. If you want to know how she feels, ask her.” Oscar put his hands to his chest, clutching his vest, feeling the cloth rub against the tender, patched skin underneath, and looked out the window. The sun-baked sand turned tawny under the ember-glow of sunset, the desert sky clear and endless.

He turned back to her. “I think I will.” Yang’s body language still told him that she was worried about the situation and the potential consequences, but the familiar lavender fire had returned in her eyes. “That’s the spirit, pipsqueak. You do what feels right to you.” She patted his head again.

Ozpin sighed. “I really don’t think this is a good idea, but I have my doubts that you’ll heed my advice on this matter anymore.” Oscar puffed out his chest. “I can’t ignore that you’re a part of me,” he replied. “But for now, my life is what is ahead of me.”

#rwby #Oscar Pine #yang xiao long #forest fire siblings #rosegarden #ozpin #rwby one-shot #yang being overprotective #remember that exciting thing I had planned?#this is it #enjoy #i worked really hard on it #ruby rose

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theimpossiblescheme · 4 years ago

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The Rebirth of Lupin III

(I was rewatching Part 4, and this plot bunny took me hostage after watching Episode 14, “The End of Lupin III”. After what was probably Lupin’s most harrowing near-death fakeout yet, I couldn’t help but wonder about the aftermath, and before I knew it I’d written this. I hope everyone enjoys it!)

It wouldn’t have been the first time Lupin the Third “died.” Hell, given his track record, it probably wouldn’t be the last either. But damn if he hadn’t put on one hell of a show. Old Pops had been wrapped around his little finger the entire time—the discarded meals, the weakened voice, the repeated talk about the end being near… that final scene with the shared cigarette… the genuine sorrow in Zenigata’s voice, even moreso than all the other times… it was his finest performance yet.

It might also have been his stupidest.

Turned out skipping meals for multiple months, only eating what he absolutely had to in order to finish the painting on the cell floor… that kind of stunt tended to really negatively impact your health. Go figure. The amount of times he’d blacked out midway through mixing his makeshift paints, or he’d felt the acid from his own empty stomach rising into his throat as he worked… he’d honestly lost count. Walking made him dizzy, and that last cigarette tasted like nothing so much as burning tar on his lips, even as he forced himself to finish it. That final scene, hearing his ears ring as Pops spoke and feeling his hands shake under his blanket, really did feel like one. Empty stage as Lupin collapses before he can even unveil his master plan. Before he can live up to Pops’ faith in him. Lights out. Curtain.

It had been an honest to God miracle he’d made it farther than that. Standing to gloat over his victory as Zenigata finally opened the cell made his legs teeter dangerously, and his throat still felt raw, but if he was going to live to see the finale, by God he was going to make it an unforgettable one. He’d managed to walk away smiling as Pops could do nothing but laugh in hysterical disbelief, and Lupin felt a bit of that hysteria bubbling up in his own lungs, too. He’d actually pulled it off… damn, somebody up there must really like him.

Somebody out on the bay liked him, too, apparently. As soon as Rebecca and Robson’s motorboat sped into view, Lupin wasted no time leaping into the water after it. Finally, another familiar face—even if his limbs felt like they might snap at any moment, he was still going to make it out to them. To know that Rebecca had made it out alive, that she hadn’t given up on him even after so long. When she hauled him up into the boat, his head lolled onto her shoulder against her neck, and he noticed her perfume had changed. Some new label must have sent her fresh samples… she smelled nice, like a fruity cocktail on a summer day…

Rebecca brushed a lock of hair out of his face, and he suddenly became very aware of how long he’d let it get. “You look terrible,” she said with a very faint smile.

Lupin managed a wheezing chuckle in response. “Yeah, probably.”

And then he blacked out again.

When he came to, he was in an actual bed. With sheets and a pillow. What a difference it made on his neck—sleeping on concrete had done him no favors. On the endtable beside him was a bowl of stew, still hot, and a cup of what smelled like lemon tea. Not his favorite, but beggars and choosers and all that, and Robson really didn’t have to go to the trouble. Besides, after so long actively avoiding any food provided him, it smelled goddamn delicious. Even with his arms and legs still feeling like matchsticks, Lupin still managed to sit up and help himself. The stew was gone in nothing flat, and the tea was half-finished and cooling by the time Lupin felt strong enough to stand up. The Rosselini’s guest rooms were comparatively plain next to the rest of the house, but they could still stand up respectably with any of Fujiko’s favorite upscale hotels.

(Where the hell was Fujiko… or Jigen or Goemon for that matter… best not to think of that right now. He’d only just woken up, after all. There was still time… there was nothing but time now.)

And of course, the décor was hardly the highlight. Propping himself against the wall, he turned the latch on the window and opened it, letting the morning breeze waft in and the sun warm his face for the second time in God knew how many days.

San Marino was still beautiful. A jewel too big to pocket, but not too small to admire. Lupin stood for a long moment drinking in the view before turning to the guest bathroom.

The sight that greeted him there was less than beautiful. He still had the damn beard and long tangled hair, but that wasn’t the worst of it. His cheeks had hollowed out into nothing, and his skin had gone so grey and cold from darkness and malnutrition it may as well not be there at all. A skull framed with dark hair stared back at him from the mirror, and it took all of Lupin’s self-control not to hurl the half-digested stew and tea into the sink. Of all the times he had to actually almost die, it had to be when he didn’t even look like himself. A disguise would be one thing—his true face and body would still be underneath—but this…

This wouldn’t do.

Luckily, a razor and shaving cream had been left on the counter for him. Lupin immediately snatched them up and began to fill the sink with hot water, actually tapping his foot impatiently as it didn’t fill fast enough. He needed to see his face again, needed to know that it was still him under all this. When the sink was full, he wet the razor and hurriedly slathered the shaving cream across his chin and cheeks, even carelessly getting some into his hair. This would be fine. He’d be fine. Good as new, even.

If only his hands would stop freaking shaking…

He lifted the razor to the underside of his chin and instantly felt his hand slip. A few seconds of panic preceded the bolt of pain as he felt blood drip into his fingers. Damn it all… dammit dammit dammit, why’d he have to let it go this far?

“Lupin?”

The voice didn’t come from the door, but instead the window. Lupin barely even processed that before wheeling around, knees weak and face burning with embarrassment. He couldn’t let anybody see him like this, not even—

“Goemon!”

His samurai still had one leg out the window as he climbed through, but he froze in place upon seeing Lupin framed in the bathroom door. A hundred different emotions warred in his eyes, and Lupin wanted so badly to run over and hug him before Goemon’s face settled into its usual stoicism. “Is this where you’ve been all this time?”

“Ah… not exactly,” Lupin said sheepishly, reaching a hand to the back of his neck and internally cursing the cold sweat that had gathered in his hair. “I’m not really sure how long I’ve been here. Rebecca and her butler came to get me after I got away from Pops.” Another poor excuse for a chuckle wheezed out of him. “Lemme tell you… they don’t half kid around locking somebody up here if they want ‘em locked up… it’s a lot worse if you don’t have the key.”

“I can see that.” Goemon finally drew closer, studying Lupin intently. “You don’t look like you had an easy time of it.”

“Honestly, does anybody have an easy time in prison? That’s why I try to stay out of it, y’know.” But it was hard to keep even a weak smile in place, looking at Goemon now… God, he really could have died. He could have never seen him again, or any of his gang. Faking a grand exit for the benefit of Interpol, knowing he could return when the coast was clear, was so much different. And Goemon looked so healthy next to him—he’d even put on a bit of weight for once, which told Lupin that Jigen must have found him a nice Japanese place outside San Marino. Hell, compared to Lupin’s sorry state, he looked downright beautiful. It felt like it had been years… Lupin could stand there staring at him for even longer than that. How must Jigen and Fujiko look at this exact moment? Were they worried about him? Were they okay? All at once, he wished they were all here, together, and that he didn’t look like the freaking Crypt Keeper when he went to greet them.

Goemon reached up and touched Lupin’s cheek with his fingertips, and Lupin tried very hard not to lean into the touch as he had with Rebecca. “I’m not sure if the beard suits you, though. Or the long hair. You look a bit like something else crawled onto your head and died.”

That got a stronger, if extremely wry, smile out of him. Nice to know both their senses of humor were intact. “Yeah, not a fan myself… I don’t suppose you could…?” He raised his eyebrows.

“I’m not using my sword to give you a shave, Lupin.”

“No, not with Zantetsuken, dummy—just use the razor.” There was the arch, fussy side of Goemon… he had to admit, he’d missed that, too. Nodding as if he’d understood all along, Goemon picked up the razor and washed away the blood before cupping a hand around the back of Lupin’s neck and letting him lean back as he worked. His hands were much steadier, almost gentle in their grip, and he was always a few degrees warmer than Lupin himself. Endless physical exercise would do that, Lupin supposed—ironic, considering how much time he spent under freezing cold waterfalls and out in the snow. Fujiko’s hands were always just on the comfortable side of cold, but she avoided that kind of exertion if she possibly could.

“Where are the other two?” Lupin asked, trying to move his jaw as little as possible so he wouldn’t obstruct Goemon’s work. “Are they--?”

“They’re both fine. Fujiko had rented out a beach house on the Italian mainland to wait for you, and Jigen had been spending time at one of the casinos. When I called to let them know you’d escaped, they told me they were on their day—they should be here this evening.”

Thank God… “So you finally figured out that phone I gave you, huh?”

“I’m not actually from the Sengoku Period, Lupin—I know what a cell phone is and how to use it.” He paused to wash off the razor again, and a very light pink stained his cheeks. “Fujiko also helped a great deal. Especially our first night in San Marino.”

“Oh, I’ll bet.” For once, Lupin hadn’t meant it with any lewd intent, but it didn’t stop Goemon from yanking his head back a trifle harshly as he found a new angle with the razor. “They’ve gotta be pretty pissed, too… that I took so long. I know I would be.”

“They’re upset, certainly. But no more than usual for you.” It wasn’t said with any real malice, just as a blunt statement of the truth, but it still stung. Did it make it any better or worse that for once—out of all the times he’d faked his death—he actually feared it might be for real? Instead of just an act he’d strung them along on for the sake of the greater plan?

Probably worse. At least all those other times, the plan was to come back.

“I’ll do better next time.” And he really did mean it. Although he’d probably stave off the “next time” for as long as he could—one impregnable prison cell full of rotten uneaten food was enough. “And I’m definitely not gonna let it go this far. Believe it or not, the beard isn’t even the worst of it. With my hands the way they are, I’d hate to think what’ll happen when I need to pee.”

“As long as Jigen doesn’t have to hold you up.” There was no smile on Goemon’s face, but there was one in his voice. “And I know for a fact he’ll hold you to that promise.”

Lupin couldn’t help but grimace. As much as he’d love to see his gunman again… “Yeah, not looking forward to that conversation. Not just ‘cause I’m gonna bruise like a banana if he punches me.”

“I’ll do my best to separate you.” There was the smile—it softened up the prematurely harsh lines of Goemon’s face as it always did, and Lupin had to remember to keep his head still and resist the temptation to kiss his cheeks until his lips went numb. Rinsing off the razor again, Goemon tilted Lupin’s head slightly to his right. “I might be at this for a while—please promise me you’ll never grow a beard again.”

“You got it, man. And I got all the time in the world.”

#lupin iii #my fanfic #I can't believe this is my first non-prompted piece for this fandom... I don't hate it honestly. XD #But yeah that episode is both really good and a little wild because he's apparently back to 'normal' in the end #(after an apparent time skip but still) and I'm just sitting there like... *dude you almost died.*#I know it takes a lot to knock you out of the running but *come on.*#So that was where this came from (and his relationship with Goemon doesn't get enough love so that's why he's here too. <3).

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malumsmermaid · 4 years ago

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Piercing Love (LH)

Back at it with another fic from the collab group! This month we were randomly assigned a member of the collab to gift a fic to and I got the ever lovely Lauren @loveroflrh. It’s been a joy crafting a story for my fellow Lauren and I hope that you enjoy!

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Piercer!Luke x Tattoo Artist!Reader

Rating: M (18+ only please!)

Warnings: unprotected sex within an established relationship, nipple play, male receiving oral, discussion of tattoos and piercings (needles)

Word Count: 3.8k

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Luke placed the second suitcase in the back of his car, smiling as he turned to you after he lowered the trunk door. “Ready to go, sweetheart?” he asked, teeth glinting in the morning sunlight.

You nodded, taking his hand and leaning up to give him a kiss, “After you, sunshine.”

He smiled, leaning in for one more peck before walking around to open your door for you. You settled into the seat, humming as you reached back for the seatbelt. You reached over and gave Luke’s hand a squeeze after he clicked his seatbelt, giving him a reassuring smile before pulling away so he could drive.

As Luke began the hours long drive from your place to his parents’ home, you thought back on the past few months with him.

********

A year ago you began working at Michael and Calum’s tattoo studio as they needed another artist, the studio gaining popularity. On your first day there, you saw this handsome prince of a man, sitting at a table and talking with one of the piercers. You thought it was a little early for someone to be getting a piercing consult, opening not for another five minutes.

Michael appeared around a corner, grinning when he laid eyes on you. “Hey!” He called, bouncing over and putting an arm over your shoulder. “Luke, Aaron, you guys need to meet our new artist. Their work is amazing! Y/n, these are our two main piercers, Luke and Aaron.”

Luke smiled, waving before pushing a blonde curl behind his ear. “I don't think I’ve ever been in a studio with a piercer who doesn’t have any piercings.” You voiced before you could stop yourself.

Luke chuckled, “Most people make that assumption, since I took my lip ring out a couple years ago. Didn’t fit who I was anymore. Was just talking with Aaron about doing my nose though.”

You blinked, the insinuation that he did in fact have piercings you couldn’t see right now catching you off guard. He did up two more buttons on his shirt, the shiny fabric pulling across his chest, the imprint of two sets of barbels appearing in the fabric. He gave you a smirk, raising a blonde eyebrow. “I-I think that you would look good with a little gold hoop on your nose.”

He smiled, nodding at Aaron and both men got to their feet, heading towards one of the stations. The door chimed and in walked one of the other artists, Ashton. You’d had an unforgettable meeting with him when you wrapped up your interview with Calum, Ashton having been getting ready to go to yoga, shirt halfway off and a pair of dermals glinting in his lower back. He grinned when he saw you, setting down his coffee and giving you a tight hug. “Told those two they’d be idiots not to hire you when I caught a glance of your portfolio. Glad to be working with you.”

Four months into working there you’d met and befriended everyone who worked in the studio. However, there had been something brewing between you and Luke. A small golden hoop adored his nose from the day you had met, and a week ago he had scheduled a session with you for a thigh piece. You had since learned why his piercings were so few and disappeared under clothing, just like his tattoos, aside from the few tiny ones on his wrists, he had a side gig as a model (an ‘of course’ had spilled past your lips upon learning this tidbit about the blonde.)

When it came time for his appointment, he stepped over to your station from his, licking his lips anxiously as he looked at you before loosening his belt and letting his slacks drop, neatly folding them before laying down on the table. You finished getting set up and carefully lowered the stencil onto Luke’s thigh, giving him a moment to look and be sure it was where he wanted. He gave you a smile and nod, laying back down and you grinned, bending down and getting to work.

Part way through the session, Calum walked over. You looked up at him, smirking when you noticed that the jewelry in his septum piercing matched the plugs Michael had in his ears today. “Michael is getting take-out, you guys want anything?” Calum asked.

Luke smiled, rattling off his usual order. You hummed, “That sounds good, I’ll have that too.” “We can just share mine, I never finish it anyway.” Luke hummed, turning to look at you.

“Agh! Luke!” Calum cried, hand raised up to cover his eyes. “I get you’re getting a thigh tattoo and that’s why your pants are off, but Prince Albert coming to say hello is not cool.”

Luke gave him a quizzical look for a moment before realization crossed his face. You had pulled back to wipe away excess ink and he shifted to adjust himself. “Not like it’s not something you’ve seen before.” Luke muttered.

Calum rolled his eyes, tongue ring flicking out as he licked his lips, brown eyes going far away. “Not yours though.” He retorted before walking back to the front to tell Michael Luke’s order.

“You’re welcome for that by the way!” Luke yelled teasingly before settling back down to let you get back to work.

Twenty minutes later Michael returned with the food, setting the tray down on your worktable. He gave you a wave, looking at your progress on Luke’s thigh before walking back to the front to sit with Calum. “Do you have time to pause for a dinner break, have a bit of a chat?” Luke asked softly once Michael was gone.

You hummed, analyzing how much work you had gotten done on the tattoo and thinking about your schedule. “I think we can take a break for ten minutes.” You finally decided, walking off to get a plate so you could have part of Luke’s order.

He got down from the bench while you were gone, stretching his back and fixing his boxers while he looked at himself in the mirror, grinning as he looked at the half-completed tattoo. You came back with a fork and plate, settling into your chair after scooping a portion onto the paper plate. Luke walked back to the vending machine and got himself a bottle of water before joining you and digging into his meal.

You sat together and ate, chatting back and forth over the warm food. Once the food was gone Luke cleaned up your station, throwing away trash and wiping down the table while you went to wash your hands. Luke joined you a minute later, washing his hands before following you back to the station, laying back down and scrolling his phone as you resumed your work. Once you finished, giving his skin one final wipe, you crouched in front of him after he got a first look of the finished ink, taking a few photos for your portfolio, unsure if Luke would be willing to let you take healed pictures in a few weeks.

As you started cleaning up your stations, only having an hour and a half to wipe and sanitize everything before your next appointment, a third session for a coverup, Luke grabbed your wrist. You looked up at him, humming, “I’m trusting that I don’t have to give you the aftercare run down.”

Luke chuckled, running his fingers through his curls, “Yeah, but I wanted to say thank you...and ask if you wanted to go out sometime, have dinner outside of the shop or something?” You stared up at him, blinking before agreeing softly. “Great, text me your schedule for this week and I’ll cross reference with mine, come up with something and let you know.”

*********

You were brought out of your memories by Luke’s hand on your thigh, blinking as you looked over at him. “Hey, you hungry? I need to stop to go to the bathroom.”

You hummed, glancing at the time to see that you’d been lost in your memories for a couple hours. Your stomach gurgled as you realized how late in the day it was and you nodded, “Sounds great, Lu.”

He stopped at the first food place on the side of the highway, you placed his order while he went to relieve himself, taking a chance to do so yourself once he found you at the table. Once you’d eaten you took another few minutes to walk around and stretch your legs before getting back in the car for the remainder of the drive.

You arrived at his parents’ home two and half hours later, his mom running out the door before Luke had even turned the car off. He laughed, stepping out of the car and catching her in an embrace as she reached him. As you got out you could hear him say, “You weren’t waiting at the window all day, were you?”

You smiled at the teasing tone in his voice, seeing his dad on the porch before you turned to get the bags from the trunk. “It’s been a while since you’ve brought anyone home,” You heard Liz say, “I was excited.”

Luke hummed, and lowered his voice, thinking you couldn’t still hear him, “Been a while since I’ve had anyone worth it.”

You licked your lips at the quiet admission, taking a deep breath and pretending like you hadn’t heard, closing the trunk and walking over to your boyfriend. He jumped in his mom’s embrace at the sight of you with both suitcases, “I was gonna get those,” he pouted, but you just waved him off.

“Hi Liz,” you said instead of replying to Luke.

You had met his parents over facetime once a few months into the relationship. It had been the first time you stayed over at Luke’s house, waking up in his bed alone, pulling his green button down over your frame and stepping out to look for him. You heard him talking to someone so you hastily did up a few buttons before finding him in the living room, half eaten bowl of cereal in his lap. He had given you a bashful smile before patting the spot next to him on the sofa, allowing you to join him as he talked to his parents.

She grinned, finally releasing Luke and hugging you. You froze for half a second, there had been several things you’d anticipated in meeting Luke’s parents, being wrapped in a bone crushing hug immediately upon arrival wasn’t one of them. You returned her hug, closing your eyes after seeing Luke walking up to his dad, one of the suitcases in hand before opening his arm to embrace Andy.

Finally, you all made it inside, Luke leading the way upstairs to his old bedroom so that you could put your things away. You found a spot to place your suitcase, crouching down to pull out your laptop and sketchbook, needing to touch up a few designs this weekend even though you were technically off. Before you could grab them, however, Luke was next to you, leaning in for a kiss. You hummed, crouching back and returning the kiss, which devolved into Luke hovering over you, now laying on your back on the floor, as his lips moved passionately against your own.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway and Luke quickly pulled back, sitting back on his heels while you sat up and reached for your sketchbook again. Liz gently knocked on the cracked bedroom door before poking her head in. “We have reservations made at your favorite place in two hours, if you two wanted to take a moment to settle in and freshen up.”

Luke nodded, whispering a thanks and she walked back out, leaving the door partially open. You smirked and Luke hummed, “Old habits die hard...honestly surprised that my old posters are still up though.”

You let out a giggle before looking around the bedroom, noticing images of pro surfers and some bands scattered around the room, on the back of the door, the closet door, and a few spots on the walls. You hummed as you took it all in, smiling, “I like this, it’s like getting to know a version of you that I’ve never met before.”

Luke sighed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Glad that you know me as the man I am today instead of who I was a couple years ago.”

You nodded, rubbing his back, knowing from late night conversations the two of you had had both as friends and since dating that he’d gone through a lot before he started working at the shop. He let you hold him for a minute before clearing his throat, “Anyway, the bathroom is across the hall if you want to freshen up first.”

You nodded, setting your computer and sketchbook on the bed finally and going back into the suitcase to get out your toiletries before heading across the hall. Once you’d finished your shower, you walked back across the hall, wrapped in a towel and crouched down to dig through your clothes, “You said this place was fancy right?” You asked, looking over your shoulder.

Luke hummed, “I mean, it’s not fancy fancy, but it’s pretty nice, y’know.”

You nodded, understanding what he meant, pulling out a nicer outfit you’d packed. Luke smiled, walking over and unwrapping the towel from around you, leaning in for a kiss before he picked up his own toiletries and disappeared through the door. Once you were both ready, you settled into the bed, you carefully working on perfecting a rough design a client had emailed you while Luke was texting Ashton. Soon a knock sounded on the door, Andy’s voice travelling through, “We’re ready to go if you are.”

You glanced at Luke, nodding to each other and getting up, following Andy’s retreating footsteps down the stairs. Dinner went well, learning more about Luke’s parents, telling them more about yourself, and hearing some stories about Luke’s childhood. You were all still at the table two hours later, Andy finally settling the check and driving home. Once there, you all changed into pajamas and joined each other in the living room to watch tv before finally going to bed. As you and Luke snuggled up, Luke nuzzling his head against yours, you both let out a content sigh. You could feel Luke smiling against the top of your head, then pressing a gentle kiss there, before he whispered, “I love you.”

You smiled, turning into his chest more before whispering a soft, “I love you too.”

You could still feel his smile against your head as you closed your eyes, slowly drifting off.

You woke the next morning to Luke tracing your tattoos. You slowly blinked, looking up at him, his eyes focused on following the different designs on your arms. “Mum left us a note. She and dad had made plans with some friends a few weeks ago, before they knew we were coming. They’ve gone out for breakfast and then are doing some plant shopping. Probably be back by lunch. She didn’t want to wake us, or bore us with the shopping trip. I was thinking, after breakfast, we could go drive around town for a bit, show you a few places I used to go.”

You nodded, running your hands across his bare chest, having somehow slipped the tank top he’d been wearing when you fell asleep without waking you. You shifted on top of him, noticing the usual presence of morning wood as you settled. Luke let out a groan, hands grabbing your shoulders, “I was trying to get it under control,” he murmured.

You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, fingers coming up to tease his nipple piercings. He let out a low hum, hands moving up from your shoulders and resting against the back of your head, deepening the kiss. “It is just us here, so if you want a better way to help take care of your usual morning friend, all you have to do is ask.”

You felt a low rumble building in his chest and smiled, pressing your hips against his hardening length. You gradually pulled back from his lips, trailing kisses down his neck, taking time to play with his jewelry, mouthing over his nipples as you kicked back the blankets. You both quickly removed clothing, you straddling his lap and grinding on his clothed length. Neither of you could ever take much buildup first thing in the morning, so it wasn’t long before Luke’s boxers joined the rest of the clothes and blankets at the end of the bed.

You sat back on your heels, admiring your boyfriend beneath you. You let out a content sigh, the contrast of the warm weight of his hard cock against your thigh and the cool metal of his piercing was one of your favorite parts of your mornings spent with Luke. You took him in your hand, flicking at a drop of precum that was about to roll down onto his piercing. Slowly, you lined up with him and sank down, both of you letting out relieved moans as he bottomed out, filling you perfectly.

You swivelled your hips, finding the spot where his cock piercing hit perfectly before pushing off of him, setting a lazy pace. Luke let out a soft moan of your name, crystal eyes closing and head leaning back against his pillow, his hands resting limply against your hips as you maintained the slow pace. You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips and pushing his golden curls back away from his face. You cupped his jaw in your hand, smiling as you looked at his relaxed face. “I was right about a gold nose ring suiting you,” you hummed as you sank down on him again. Luke simply groaned in response, relaxed grip on your hips tightening. “Hope you’re right about what I heard you tell your mum in the driveway yesterday.”

“Do we have to bring her up right now,” he whined, thrusting up into you.

“I just...was curious...am I really the first person in a while who’s worth bringing home?” You whispered, hands pressing down in the center of his chest.

Luke smiled, eyes opening to look up at you in adoration, “Course you are. Last person I brought here who was someone I was intimate with was Ash. And my parents didn’t know about that because Ash wasn’t anything serious, and they’d already known Ashton from when we were kids. He just came to support me while I was trying to find myself again, and we certainly didn’t do anything while we were here.”

You smiled down at him sheepishly and he leaned up for a kiss. He flipped you both over, leading to you gasping against his lips. His necklace dangled, pendant brushing your chest as he whispered “I love you,” a kiss punctuating each word.

You sighed, “I love you too,” pushing back against him.

He smiled, giving you another kiss before beginning to thrust his hips, just slightly faster than you’d been when you left off. You moaned loudly as he hit inside you perfectly, nails lightly digging into his shoulders. “Everything about you so perfect babe,” he whispered, “perfect person, perfect fit for me in every way. Will never get over how lucky I am to have you.”

You let out a soft sigh, tightening your hold on him with your entire body, nuzzling into his neck. “I’d say it’s the other way around. Still don’t believe I’ve ever done anything to deserve a man like you.”

Luke just hummed, dropping one hand between your thighs, fingers working to bring you closer to the edge. His lips pressed against yours prevented you from voicing any other doubts that may have sprung forth in your mind, his cock driving into you with more force. You moaned his name, the sound muffled against his lips, coming apart with your high not long after. He helped you ride out your high, soft groans falling from his own mouth as he slowly thrusted. He pulled out after you finished, looking down at you bashfully. “Wasn’t exactly planning on us having a chance to do anything this weekend,” he said softly. “Dunno if we’ll have time to do laundry if I...y’know.”

You smiled, leaning up to peck his lips before moving to crouch on the floor at the side of the bed. He moved to perch at the very edge of the bed, legs spread on either side of you as you cleaned him up, taking a moment to toy with the ring at his tip with your lips and tongue before taking him into your mouth. You knew he was close so you didn’t take him as far back as you could. You hollowed your cheeks, working your tongue along him to help bring him closer, hand alternating between pumping the remainder of his length outside your mouth and fondling his balls.

You felt his cock twitch against your tongue before Luke let out his usual high pitched whine that he made whenever he was right at the edge of his high. You took a deep breath through your nose, giving his thigh a light pinch to let him know you were ready for him. He gave a shallow nod, whimpering as he started to spill over your tongue, giving small, eager thrusts as he filled your mouth.

You swallowed as much of his release as you could, some spilling from between your lips as he pulled his spent cock out of your mouth slightly too soon, slipping off of the bed to crouch in front of you. He gave you a smile, leaning forward and swiping his thumb across your bottom lip, slipping the digit in his own mouth for a moment before leaning forward to connect your lips once again. You both moaned as his tongue slid against yours, tasting himself on you. Finally he pulled away to rest his forehead on yours, “How about we shower and get cleaned up, have some proper breakfast, and then go out exploring. I’ll tell my parents where they can meet us for lunch when they’re ready.”

You smiled, giving him a quick peck, “Sounds like a plan.” You hummed, slowly getting to your feet, holding your hand out to your boyfriend.

He gave you a smile and a nod, taking your hand as he got to his feet, following you across the hall, getting in one last, “I love you” before the shower water started.

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#luke hemmings #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings 5sos #luke hemmings 5 seconds of summer #luke 5sos #luke 5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings x reader #luke x reader #luke hemmings x y/n #luke x y/n #malum #lashton #as a quick glance but y'know it's in there #piercer!luke #luke hemmings au

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onthepyre · 4 years ago

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the inevitability of everything

dumb little txf fanfic featuring mulder being a massive sap and scully just being so done with his bullshit. 1.1k, PG, dialogue heavy because idk how to write anything else

The sun has set outside as Mulder twists a pencil between his fingers, poring over a casefile. It’s the same absurdities he’s read hundreds of times; forgettably unforgettable, with just enough strangeness to make it into his filing cabinet. Bright lights, time loss, and stealthy glares from his partner — the usual. It’s the same story he has hundreds of copies of, almost verbatim. Scully could tell him that. But new cases have been few and far between as of late, so he finds himself sucked into old, dead leads. Scully says it’s the holiday season, approaching with alarming speed. People don’t have time to spin tales when they have festivities to attend. Even she had brought in a frankly rather ugly miniature tree to place on the desk. It’s Christmas, Mulder, she told him. Forgive me for trying to bring some holiday cheer into your lair.

He’s startled out of his focus as Scully sets a coffee cup in front of him. “I’m not even halfway through my paperwork, so I figured you haven’t started yours yet. Looks like a late night ahead.”

She’s right and she knows it, but Mulder leans forward and puts his elbows on the desk — a lazy attempt to hide his best efforts at putting it off. She doesn’t seem to notice this, but eyes the bag of sunflower seeds he’d come dangerously close to knocking over and raises her brows.

“You know me too well, Scully.” He takes a sip. It’s tooth-rottingly sweet, exactly the way he likes it. He smiles at her. “What do you say we blow this popsicle stand? We can get the paperwork done some other time.”

“Mulder, it’s Thursday. I don’t want to spend my Friday night at the office, and you’re already in hot water with Skinner after your, what, tenth trespassing charge?” She has a point, but he isn’t in the mood for giving in. “Next week,” she says, peering over her glasses in a rather accusatory way.

Mulder tucks his pencil behind his ear, leaning back in his chair again. “I think the KFC is still open,” he states, trying to keep his voice neutral. “I’ll pay.”

She continues to stare at him, but he notices the corner of her lips quirk a bit — the beginning of a smile.

“Come on, Scully, aren’t you hungry? You’ve been here since 6 this morning, and you barely ate lunch.” She drops her gaze to her lap, a sure sign that he’s getting to her. “Colonel Sanders is calling to you,” he says, lowering his voice to something near a growl for maximum effect.

“Fine,” Scully sighs as she stands. She shrugs her coat on and rolls her eyes, playing annoyed to make him feel bad. “I’ll meet you there.” With that, she marches out of the office, coffee forgotten on the desk.

The drive, though short, feels oddly lonely without her in the passenger seat. Mulder cranks up the radio to have something there, something to replace Scully’s voice. It’s no murder scene he’s driving to, he knows, so there’s no reason for it to feel this empty, but he’s so used to having her there. Even at the ends of some workdays, he drives her back to his apartment where they watch reruns of bad horror movies. He has an inkling that’s the reason she was so worried about wasting a Friday at the office. Now, though, Mulder listens to the weatherman talk about snow and tries to think of something else.

He pulls into the empty parking lot just seconds after Scully does. She waits for him, smiling over the roofs of the cars, and he has to look away for a moment to deal with it all. Everything he’d ever done had led him here, standing outside of KFC in mid-December, with the person he believes is something like his soulmate. If he told her that, she’d laugh at him. He doesn’t mind, though — she has a nice laugh.

Once they’re sitting, she thanks him.

“What for?” he asks. He knows what she’s going to say before she says it.

“Getting me out of there. I’m so tired, all these reports might kill me.” She takes a sip of her drink. “If I don’t get to Skinner first.”

Mulder lets her joke, if it is one, hang in the air between them before he speaks again.

“Do you ever think about the inevitability of everything, Scully?”

“What do you mean?”

“The way everything has led up to this. How, maybe, if one of us did one little thing differently, we never would have met.”

She pauses, gazing at some invisible point behind him as he looks her pointedly in the face. “What brought this on?”

“I’ve just been thinking a lot lately,” he says, declining to mention that she’s the thing that’s occupied his mind.

“It’s a scary thought,” Scully agrees, still avoiding Mulder’s eyes. “I’m just glad we ended up where we did.”

Are you, though? He wants to ask. Since she’s met him, her life has, by any measure, gotten drastically worse. She’s been abducted, two of her family members have died, she spends her time investigating spooks instead of passing her knowledge to the future of the Bureau, to barely scratch the surface. But then, she’s right — she could be dead herself, if one standoff had gone just a little bit worse.

“Me, too,” he says, and she finally looks him in the eye. His hand sits on the table between them, and she reaches out to grab it. Her thumb grazes the back of his palm and it’s everything he can do to not combust. He squeezes her hand and shoots her a grin.

They talk for a while longer, though it’s less heavy, a little further from the untreaded ground between them. Scully tells him of her disappointment in the FBI’s next rising star; Mulder explains the Lone Gunmen’s latest escapades. They stand to leave when Scully slips in a another mention of how tired she is, and their early morning tomorrow — a glance at the clock in the corner proves it’s later than they should be awake.

She stops him as they’re walking back to their cars, grabs his arm with nervous force.

“You know, Mulder, I’ve been meaning to tell you…” She pauses, as if trying to find the words. Maybe the courage. He waits patiently, but is surprised when she grabs his shoulder and pulls herself up to kiss him.

It’s short, but not gentle by any means. With one hand on the back of his neck, she’s practically yanking him closer to her height, nearly knocking their teeth together. He isn't sure where she got the nerve. He's glad she did. She breaks the kiss, takes a step back. Her brow is furrowed, but her face softens when he starts to grin. She glances away, her face a mask of conflicted emotions.

“Goodnight, Mulder,” she says with a nod. She’s gone in seconds, leaving him deserted and beaming.

“You too, Scully,” he whispers to himself.

#txf #the x files #x files #msr #mulder and scully #fox mulder #dana scully #xf fic #fanfic #june's writing

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ahsokasanity · 4 years ago

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Chapter Thirteen

A Court of Shadow and Ribbons Chapter Link

Oh, you’re gonna wanna read this one!

The house arranged a beautiful table setting and centre piece. The room was bathed in the orange and bright pinks of the evening sun. Azriel was already there. Dressed casually in black pants and a teal shirt with the cuffs rolled up nearly to his elbows. Cassian and Nesta wandered in, drink in each hand. Cassian passed his spare to Aziel, who took it gratefully and swallowed a large gulp. He looked up at them quickly

“sparkling water?”

Nesta answered for them “I’m not, you know drinking anymore so the house offers what’s best for every situation. Cassian agreed, a totally sober night for him and you will be best – especially with the work you have to do tomorrow”

Azriel nodded “I see, and I agree alcohol is not necessary, maybe I was looking to take the edge off, but I don’t need it”

Cassian laughed “You might, but we’ll back you up buddy”

Gwyn arrived taking the last step slowly and looking around furtively. She was talking to herself quietly “Are you Idisi? Is this scarier that fighting for your life on Ramiel? Can you chill out and have a quiet dinner with your friends and with Azriel? She sucked in a breath “Oh Mother, would you look at him”

Nesta stepped forward and took Gwyn’s hand, having left her drink on the table.

“You are so welcome Gwyn, I can’t believe we haven’t done this before” they hugged and walked to sit at the dining table.

“Please sit down Gwyn. Cass, Azriel we can eat whenever we are ready”

She turned to Gwyn “You know since the house was gifted to Cassian and I, we don’t venture to the kitchens. Every now and then I send a basket of treats or some blooming flowers of Elain’s to say thank you, but Windy does it all. It is an interesting way to live never knowing or bothering to think about what we should eat” she smiled and Cassian stopped talking to Azriel for a moment to appreciate that spirit. A year ago he could not have fantasised about this kind of hope and happiness for her.

Aziel noticed too but his eye was caught more by the slight giggle that Gwyn made, her curls bouncing either side of her face and the way her eyes sparkled with merriment.

“Windy” as Nesta had begun to refer to the house of Wind did not disappoint with dinner. Although you might think it was a Den Mother the way each person was served different amounts depending on their body’s requirements and tastes. It was all food on a theme, but no two plates were the same.

Gwyn was enjoying the food and the easy conversation ranging from training, to the mating ceremony, to singing and pranks that Azriel and Cassian had played on each other and Rhys growing up.

Dessert was served and when Gwyneth’s plate arrived bearing a colourful meringue pegasus, she burst out laughing. The house had remembered her request from the girls night months ago.

She really did not relish eating the work of art, but the dinner had been served in order and amounts to leave her room for this treat. Azriel had heard the story from Cassian about what the house had provided the three recovering females and was so pleased to see Gwyn relaxed and joyful. When she offered him some of her meringue, he took the tail.

“This is only so that we can tell people you did not eat an entire pegasus by yourself” and popped it into his mouth. Gwyn watched every move, caught by the idea of that melt in your mouth delicacy on his tongue, dissolving and fizzing and finally being swallowed. She consciously dropped her eyes to her plate, but hoped that he would not scent her want. A feeling that she just couldn’t stop, rising within her.

Suddenly she wished that she had not eaten all that the house had offered. Her stomach knotted and her heart beat was going to drown out the conversation. In fact, she noticed Cassian and Azriel had stopped speaking and Nesta was looking at her worriedly.

“Gwyn, what’s wrong? you’ve gone pale all of a sudden”

She abruptly stood, pushing the chair back and stumbled toward the dark doors leading to the roof.

“I just need some air.” She scrambled outside. The others too shocked to follow

It was dark outside, but she knew every corner and seat and railing here. She moved to a bench overlooking the city and it’s twinkling lights, with one wall of the house behind her. Gwyn sat and breathed. She counted to ten for each inhale and each exhale until the nausea stopped, then began the proper Valkyrie exercises to centre her mind. On purpose she did not try to find a reason for her panic. It was all too obvious.

Moments or hours later Nesta came out to her, carrying one of the house’s magical light sources so that she could find Gwyn. Although, she knew the layout better that anyone, Gwyn realised she was announcing her presence.

“I’m so sorry Nessie, I don’t know what happened” (even though she did and it scared her to death). Nesta sat beside her with one arm over her shoulders.

“Don’t mention it, you know around here, we’re all about do as you feel” She winked. Gwyn knowing full well about Nesta’s behaviour when she arrived up here, and about how many different rooms she and Cassian had enjoyed each other in. She just smiled and said

“Thank you. Really, I appreciate that, but I’m not sure what to do now. Do I sit here breathing or do I come back and face my trainers feeling embarrassed and silly?” She shrugged and Nesta could see the internal struggle for the female who always put on a brave face to cover the unforgettable trauma of death and rape that dogged her still.

“How about a compromise?” Nesta dipped her chin, “Azriel and Cassian and I could come out here to sit with you in the dark, then you don’t have to feel like you look silly because they won’t be able to see you!”

Gwyn huffed a laugh, then it broke to the surface and it came out properly. Nesta joined her and they pushed on each other’s shoulders making the other start up again.

It didn’t take long before Cassian and Azriel made their way out to see what was going on out there. They were talking loudly and teasing each other about who was the best trainer, Nesta blessed them for their attempt at subtlety.

“What’s your opinion Gwyn, who is the best trainer? Your General, OR the guy who helps out sometimes?” Cassian had arrived and dragged over a sunbed made for wings to lay on.

Gwyn looked at Azriel who stayed standing on the other side of Nesta. His silk shirt caught the moonlight and she could see the colour ripple as he breathed

“Well, General" She started and the others laughed

“You definitely make me work harder, Azriel seems to like stretching and cooling down best” Cassian made to accept his win.

“But….” Gwyn continued “The person who helps out sometimes, has, I think, been the reason behind my technique improvement” She smiled at Azriel then and he looked modestly at the ground.

“So, I’m not going to choose!” Gwyn declared. Cassian and Nesta clapped and congratulated her, and Azriel laughed and the joy in that laugh had Gwyn tensing up inside. In a good way. The stomach churning did not happen, but a bubbly, happy humming started in her chest.

Cassian held out his hand to Nesta, beckoning her and she went and lay next to him with her head on his chest and their hands linked across Cass’s belly.

Azriel glanced at the bench vacated by Nesta “May I?” he asked Gwyn softly.

“Of course” She said shyly. What else could she say. She edged a little further from him so that she would not accidentally touch his wings. His shadows stayed as a second skin around him, but where his hand rested on the bench closest to her, they seeped out a little. Gwyn did it without thinking, she ran a finger through the darkness of the inky feelers. She pulled away as they touched her coolly, but stretched her hand out again when it didn’t hurt.

“Can you feel that?” she said quietly

Cassian and Nesta were silent, she knew they could hear her, and Azriel’s reply, but surely someone had asked the shadowsinger about his shadows before.

“Yes, but it’s a feeling not a sense”

Cassian called out “REALLY?” and Nesta put her hand over his mouth laughing. Azriel shook his head “Yes, really. I don’t feel hot or cold or sharp or blunt with my shadows. Right now I just feel happiness, and maybe uncertainty?”

Gwyn slid her hand away. He was reading far too much of her mood right now.

“That’s really amazing” she looked properly at him and fell headlong into his dark blue eyes. He blinked and she was able to look away

“It is pretty good. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have the power, but it’s saved me, well, us, so many times I’m grateful despite the “feelings’ all the time”

Nesta “oohhhhed” from her chair like suddenly Azriel made more sense. Cassian nudged her and she squirmed “What?”

“Well, I was just thinking how tired I am and that I have to get up early tomorrow for Rhys’ little errand, and you know, maybe it’s” he spoke lower “bedtime”.

Nesta got the hint and went a little pink cheeked, although it was too dark to see.

“Good point Cassian, what a responsible mate you are. Definitely bedtime when we’ve got to get going early” she yawned deliberately. Cassian merely stood and took her hand bowing to Azriel and Gwyn

“Brother, Gwyn, thanks for tonight. Let’s do it again soon”

Nesta nodded and giggled at Cassian’s attempt at politeness and sudden need to be alone with her. She had the same idea.

“Thank you Nesta, Cassian” Gwyn nodded but didn’t attempt to rise, instead she looked at Azriel. He stared back but farewelled his friends absentmindedly

“Yeah, bye”

#Angsty stuff #acosf #acotar #sjm #Gwynriel #Nessian #House of Wind #Shadows #Double date #triggers

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jenonctcity · 5 years ago

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Destroy Dick December - Jaemin

Na Jaemin – Smut, Crack, Fluff

Warnings: Graphic smut, oral.

Word Count: 3k

Summary: 00’s line take part in Destroy Dick December

Like No Nut November, Destroy Your Dick December is a month-long challenge related to orgasms of the penis persuasion.

On the first day of December you orgasm once, on the second you orgasm twice, on the third you orgasm three times, and so on.

Day 1:

As if making up for lost time, Jaemin had gone a bit sex mad the last few weeks of November. You’d previously hoped that if he had succeeded in no nut November, then the sex he’d provide you with in the beginning of December would be mind-blowing and unforgettable. He’d only lasted a week, and since then, he’d been trying to worm his way inside of your underwear nearly every day. You didn’t mind, he was pretty good at using his penis and the charm he used on you was enough to make the fabric of your panties stick to your dampening heat. But, where he had warned you in advance to no nut November, he’d neglected to tell you about his decision in destroy dick December.

He’d just finished fucking you till your eyes were rolling into the back of your head when he tucked his face into your perspiring neck, his cock still inside of you as it slowly softened, and his arms wrapped around your body to stop you from escaping him. Not that you wanted to.

“Baby,” He sang in a cute voice, hoping if he used a bit of aeygo on you it would persuade you to go along with his ridiculous idea. “I have something to tell you.” He started to whisper now, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine with every word.

“What?” You sighed, bracing yourself for whatever stupid thing he was about to propose to you. “You didn’t accidentally send my mum a selfie of you wearing my dress again did you?” You raised an eyebrow, sniggering at the memory of the time you’d left Jaemin alone whilst you showered, and he’d taken it upon himself to put on your dress and take a mirror selfie, meaning to send it to your phone but accidentally sending it to your mother instead. He groaned loudly, wiggling his hips and nipping at your neck.

“You promised never to speak of that again!” He whined like a spoilt brat, cringing at the vivid yet embarrassing memory. You laughed in response at his cute reaction and trailed your hands down his back, swirling your fingertips around his damp skin to soothe him. “I’m going to do destroy dick December, its basically a challenge th-” You cut him off as he started to ramble.

“I know what it is Jaemin. And no. I am not helping you with it.” You put on your stern voice, hoping if you showed your displeasure in it then he’d drop it and not take part in it.

“Why?!” He squeaked in surprise, sounding almost scandalized that you weren’t going to help him.

“Because its so unsafe Jaemin! All that masturbating and sex isn’t healthy for your body.” You scolded him, genuinely concerned for the health of his heart because in your opinion his health was way more important to you than a stupid internet trend. He huffed in annoyance, his breath flooding over your skin again and causing another shiver to ripple down your spine.

“Pretty please.” He whispered in the cutest voice he could muster, your eyes rolling in response.

“No. You can take part in it if you like. But I am not helping you.”

“But surely you can’t go without sex for a whole month and if you won’t help me then you can’t have sex with me.” He used his arms to suspend his body above yours, staring down at you with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, believing he’d caught you out. You deadpanned at him, not responding which caused him to wiggle his eyebrows at you to encourage a response.

“Fine, I’ll have sex with you once a day but that is it!”

“Deal!”

Day 4:

“Baby…I want to eat you out so badly…can I?” Jaemin’s sultry voice whispered in your ear, his teeth nipping at your ear lobe as a gentle persuasion. You closed your eyes, picturing his face between your legs, a smug look plastered on his face from how wet he’d made you and how you whimpered under his touch. A hum ripped from your throat, almost sounding like a soft moan as you actually felt a dribble of arousal leak from your entrance.

“I already gave you one orgasm today, that was the deal, remember?” You thought back to when you woke up beside Jaemin this morning. He’d rolled himself on top of you and rutted his leaking cock into your thigh until you parted your legs and let him have his way with you.

“I never said you had to do anything to me…” He circled his fingers over your thigh, ghosting his fingertips against the bare skin leading goose bumps to rise up. You scoffed a laugh, rolling your eyes at him as you took his hand in between your own.

“Na Jaemin, do I look stupid?” You raised an eyebrow at him, his eyes widening to show innocence and fake confusion. “I know you’ve had three orgasms so far, and you need another one so you’re trying to butter me up, so I’ll cave and perform another one on you. It isn’t happening.” He didn’t respond, his eyes darting around the room as he thought of something to say.

“Please?” Was the best he could come up with. You sighed, smiling cutely at him with a twinkle in your eye.

“Okay!”

“Really?” He gasped, his face lighting up like a struck match.

“No.” You said in a monotone voice, your face falling to one of no emotion. His face also fell, his eyebrows lowering and a pout forming on his face.

“You’re no fun.”

Day 8:

You hadn’t heard from Jaemin since earlier on in the morning. He’d sent you a simple good morning text and also told you how beautiful you looked despite the fact he hadn’t actually seen you. It was this charming personality that you fell in love with when you started dating Jaemin. His text had brought an undeniably huge smile to your face on your morning commute to work, patterning your good mood for the day. The day before you’d arrange to go to the dorm to see Jaemin in the evening after your shift at work had finished. You let yourself into the door like you usually do and raised a sceptical eyebrow at how silent it was. The eery silence not sitting right with you and leading your gut instinct to tell you something bad had happened.

“Nana?” You called out gently, removing your shoes and adventuring cautiously further into the dorm.

“I’m here.” A gruff and solemn voice called out from his bedroom. You let yourself in and gasped upon seeing his body all tucked up in bed, his head the only thing visible, a pout that told you he was feeling sorry for himself moulded onto his lips.

“What happened? Are you okay?” You rushed to his bed, sitting on the edge and staring down at him and scanning his head for any damage.

“No.” He stared up at you, a short sigh leaving his lips as he shuffled around underneath his cover, pulling his arms out from their confines. He held up his right hand to you, a wrist brace attached securely to his hand and wrist. Shock took over your body, your mouth popping open and eyebrows dropping in sadness at how your baby was hurt.

“What did you do?!” You moved around so that you were laying underneath the covers with him, resting your head on his chest and rubbing your hand over his chest comfortingly.

“I slipped over and sprained my wrist.” He cuddled you tightly, his chin resting on the top of your head. You knew he was going to milk this, your attention being too irresistible to him for him not to milk it.

“How did you do that?” You very gently grabbed his injured hand, pulling it towards you to place a delicate kiss to each of his fingertips. He remained silent, almost as if he was trying to avoid telling you how it happened.

“Erm…ha…funny story really.” He started to stumble over his words as he got nervous, his cheeks flushing red as embarrassment overtook him.

“Jaemin just tell me.”

“Okay well I had already jerked off four times and my penis was starting to get sore from only using spit. But lube is messy, so I decided to use it in the bathroom.” He cleared his throat, letting out another sigh as he continued on his story. “I dropped the lube and it went all on the floor, so I went to get something to clean it up with and when I came back, I misjudged how much lube was on the floor…and I slipped on it…” You had to use every ounce of self-control inside of you to stop yourself from combusting into a fit of giggles. “Don’t laugh!” He whined, snuggling his cheek into your hair, his face now bright red from his mortification. You couldn’t contain it any longer, laughs spilling from your mouth and your chest rising and falling rapidly as you chuckled.

“I can’t believe you sprained your wrist because of lube!” You pulled away from him, gazing at his pouty expression.

“It was so embarrassing babe, I had to shout for Jeno and then explain to him what had happened. Then when we got to hospital, I had to make up a lie to tell the nurse!”

“I hate to say it Jaemin, but I told you that this challenge was bad for your health.” Before you’d even finished your sentence, you’d started laughing again at the irony of the situation.

“Ha ha. So funny.” He deadpanned with no expression on his face. He then whined and started to pout once more. “I have a huge bruise on my hip too and I feel sore. I only have four more orgasms to go too before I completed the day.” You smiled gently at him, leaning forward to cup his face in the palm of your hands. You pressed a tender kiss to his puckered lips and bite your bottom lip at you pulled away.

“Can’t you use your other hand?”

“No, it’s useless.” You gingerly kissed his lips again, letting them linger against his own as you giggled softly.

“Well, I’m not going to make you cum four times, but I’ll hold up my end of the bargain and get you off once. How does that sound?”

“Sounds perfect.” He reached forward and connected your lips once more. You carefully straddled his thighs, not wanting to jostle him too much and hurt him as he was in a delicate state and very sore. You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs, kneading his lips with your own as the kiss heated up, his tongue breaking the barriers of your soft pillows and pushing against your tongue. He explored your mouth with his tongue, it brushing the roof of your mouth and almost dancing with your tongue in your passionate state of affair.

You moved around, removing your own clothes with ease and discarding them haphazardly on the floor. Jaemin had already gotten his pyjamas on before you’d made your entrance, so it was easy to pull down his pyjama bottoms and free his half-hard cock. You pulled away from the kiss, reaching down to his cock and gripping it firmly in your grasp. He seethed at the sudden contact, his bottom lip finding purchase between his teeth as he watched your every move with interest. You smirked up at him, leaning down to place a barely there kiss to the tip of his dick. Pre-cum coated your lips, your tongue swiping out to rid your lips of it. He groaned as he watched, erotic thoughts swirling around in his mind of all the dirty things you could do to each other. You pumped his shaft repeatedly until he was fully hard, soft breaths leaving his parted lips. Without any warning you took him in your mouth, hallowing your cheeks and sucking him harshly as you sank down further on his cock. His leg twitched up in response, his good hand finding its way to tangle in your hair. You closed your eyes momentarily, enjoying the heavy feel of him on your tongue as you bobbed your head up and down, his hand tugging at your hair in encouragement. You pulled off, your lips smacking together as you leaned down to lick up the underside of his shaft, purposely putting on a show for him. You trailed up the prominent vein with your tongue teasingly, placing another delicate kiss to the head as you reached it.

“No more baby, I want to be inside of you.” You smiled smugly at his request, pulling away from his hard appendage immediately to shuffle back up so you were hovering over his cock. “Wait, hold it there.” His injured hand gently settled on your waist to stop you from sinking down onto him. He used his left hand with slight inaccuracy as he stroked two fingers from your dripping hole up to your clit, only to drag them back to your hole and dip them in swiftly. He curled his fingers, pumping them in and out of you with not much rhythm, the use of his hand proving that it was his non-dominant hand. Nonetheless, it was doing a wonderful job. The tips of his fingers sending sparks of pleasure up through your body causing a chain reaction of your nerves.

“I’m ready.” You whispered, his fingers retreating from you without having to be told twice. Jaemin always liked to prepare you before you took his cock, the thought of hurting you from the sudden intrusion making his heart hurt. So just to be on the safe side, he always fingered you first or ate you out. You held his cock to your entrance, taking a deep breath before sinking down onto him slowly. You let out a whine, feeling how his cock rippled up your walls as he entered you without any resistance. His eyes screwed up as your tightness felt like heaven wrapped around his cock. You leaned forward, attaching your lips to his as you both took a moment to adjust to the sudden connection you had between your bodies. “Tell me if I’m hurting you Jae.” You whispered against his lips, rolling your hips forward and gripping onto his shoulders for support.

“You’re fine baby, go crazy.” He would endure the pain if it meant he could keep his cock buried deep inside of you when he finished. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your bare chest to his as his arms automatically connected around your waist. You ground your hips into his before starting to bounce, his cock doing wonders to your insides. You felt tingles go up your spine, your head wanting to loll back from the pleasure you felt. Jaemin had a tight grip on you, moving his own hips in time with yours despite the slight ache of pain he felt on his hip. You felt your body get hotter the more you moved against him, his skin starting to feel slick against you from the heated activity. “You feel so good doll.” He moaned out, attaching his hot lips to the skin of your neck, sucking his mark into your skin as you slowed your hips to circle them slowly.

“Jaemin you’re gonna make me cum.” You whined, letting your head roll back as Jaemin planted his feet against the mattress, bucking his hips up into yours. His cock started to hit your sweet spot inside of you, stars floating around the backs of your eyelids as you winced from the overwhelming feeling of white-hot ecstasy took over your system. You gripped onto him hard as you rode out your orgasm, moving with him to bring him to his own high.

“Hold on baby, take it like a good girl.” He grunted into your ear, holding you to him tightly as he continued fucking up into you at an almost superhuman pace. You started to experience the high inside of you build up again like a bottle of fizzy drink being shook up. Something inside of you snapped again and you found yourself cumming on his cock for a second time within the space of five minutes.

“Jaemin!!! Oh my god!” You squeaked, feeling yourself release over his cock, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he neared his own peak. The juices you’d leaked onto his cock made a slick sound resonate throughout the room only to be interrupted by Jaemin’s loud moan, his hips slamming into your one more time as he came. The tight rope inside of him breaking as he realised hot sticky cum inside of you.

“Shit.” He cursed, relaxing against the bed in exhaustion from how hard he went. He then winced as the pain he felt overpowered all his other senses. “Your turn to clean me up this time.” He shot you a cheesy grin, his chest rising and falling fast as he tried to regain control of his breathing. You let out a weak laugh, very slowly rising off of him and smirking as you stayed crouched over him, letting his cum dribble from you onto him. “Hey!” He groaned, watching as you made more mess on him.

“I have to clean it up anyway, let me have my fun first.” You leaned forward, pecking his lips before you stood up off of the bed with shaky legs, pulling on his robe before making your way to the bathroom to get a hot cloth. When you came back you wiped him down, doting on him in the same way he normally would for you when he was giving you aftercare.

“I could get used to this.” He winked at you; his cheeky smile still plastered on his face.

“Well don’t.” He pouted at your words, trying his best to be cute. “Still can’t believe you slipped on lube.” You burst out laughing at the memory of his confession, his face immediately falling, cheeky smile completely wiped from his face.

Destroy Dick December: Na Jaemin - Fail.

(A/N: Hey! This was the last part to my No Nut November/ Destroy Dick December series, it’s been two long months and I’m honestly quite proud of how much I’ve written and by how much love this series has gotten. I hope you’ve enjoyed this series and look forward to my upcoming fics. Please let me know some feedback on this series, or just tell me your favourite part in a certain piece, or which members was your favourite. Love you all!)

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