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horanghaes-gaze · 4 years ago

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“We’re on a Mission” - Renjun fluff

Word Count: 1728

Genre: Fluff, a bit of crack/humor

Warnings: none

Notes: Here it is! The Renjun fluff is finally done and up, so I hope you guys enjoy it. As always, requests are open as well as my inbox in general, so feel free to send in something. And if you’re going to request, please remember to make sure that you read the rules and things to know post on my page before you do. Thank you so much, and once again, I hope you enjoy~~

"Are you staring?" Jaemin asked Renjun, who was indeed staring at you.

"No, of course not..." he looked towards his friend who could tell he was lying, anyone could from the look on his face. Jaemin dismissed it, not really paying much attention. Renjun however was still feeling a bit sour, his mind still focused on you. He honestly just accepted the fact that you are out of his league since you're beautiful, amazing, and talking to a guy with your cute smile that you do when- wait. No. It can't be. Or at least, he doesn't want it to be. Is that guy really trying to ask you out and expecting a yes? There's no way you're going to- oh, she said yes... Well this was a predicament. He's been too scared to ask you out for the past year that he forgot that another person could ask you out, which just happened right in front of him. Great, just great.

"Did you get dumped or something? You're more pissy than usual today" Haechan teased, only being half-serious. Half because he would never actually make fun of Renjun getting dumped, but the other half being serious because Renjun was being a little on edge.

"Mind your own business, Donghyuk"

"Ooh, he used your government name too" Chenle laughed at Haechan.

"Ugh", Renjun simply let out as he slumped on the floor of the practice room. He couldn't get the thought of how happy you looked getting asked out earlier out of his head. It bothered him even more since it wasn't him who asked you out, and also because you said yes to the other guy.

"Is it about that girl you were staring at earlier?" Jaemin chimed in.

"Oooooh a girl? Renjun and a girl? Do give details" Haechan said, wanting to know more.

Jaemin explained to the other five how for the past two months, he noticed Renjun staring or sneaking glances at you quite a bit. Renjun glared at him the whole time, not wanting to admit he had fallen for you, and that he had fallen deep... for the past year now. He also didn't want to admit that you had called him your "sweetest friend" one day when having lunch together. Mark, trying to be a bit helpful and not wanting to embarrass the younger boy further, spoke up.

"Why don't you ask her out? I'm sure she'll say yes, and if she doesn't then that's her loss”

Renjun groaned before speaking.

"Someone already did earlier, and I've been chickening out for a year now, and on top of all that, she called me her 'sweetest friend' at lunch one time" he buried his face in his hands.

"You already got friend-zoned, what a loser- ow!" Haechan doubled over in pain.

"Don't listen to him, he doesn't mean it" Jeno gave his signature eye smile after elbowing the aforementioned male.

"Oh wait, y/n? Like, the really pretty one? That y/n?" Mark spoke again.

"Yeah... that y/n" Renjun buried his face further into his hands, if it was even possible to hide that much more.

"Why don't you just ask her out?"

"...too scared" Renjun timidly said.

"Why?"

"Because she's her and I'm...me" he simply explained.

"Dude, come on, we'll help you out, don't worry, leave it to us and you'll have your girlfriend before you know it," Mark said, wrapping an arm around Renjun's shoulders.

"And how do you plan on doing that exactly?"

"As I said, leave it to us, all you have to do is show up" Mark assured.

"Yeah, because you're such a lady's man," Haechan said, earning a glare from the older one.

"Don't worry, just trust us, dude"

Renjun doesn't know why he decided to trust them with this. But he did, opting to make desperation the reason why he agreed to let them do whatever they were going to do.

...................

You were currently on your date with Minjun, a former classmate of yours that you had recently started talking to again. Sure, he was nice, but you didn't see him being anything more than a friend from high school. The only reason you agreed to go on a date with him was because you felt bad saying no, especially with how he awkwardly held up the flowers he got you. Shaking you out of your thoughts, he handed you the drink you ordered, you thanked him and sat down, hoping that you could at least enjoy the date even if you didn't see this going far. Just as Minjun was about to strike up a conversation, a group of loud boys came into the boba shop you resided in.

"Oh my gosh, y/n! It's you!" you looked up, seeing Jeno wave at you, the other members following suit. Well, all of the members except Renjun, what a shame.

"Oh, hey guys," you said as they came up to you. Minjun looked over, clearly uncomfortable with how the group of six interrupted his date with you.

"Um, are you getting drinks? And where's Renjun?"

"Oh, he got held back at practice, and we're here on a mission- stop elbowing me!" Haechan explained before yelling at Jeno.

"And what's going on here, y/n?" Jeno calmly asked.

"I'm on a date, this is Minjun, I know him from high school,"

"Oh, well, we'll let you get back to it then, it was nice seeing you"

"You too, and say hi to Renjun for me!" you said as they left.

"Yeah, we'll see you around-oh, I'm so sorry!" Chenle feigned guilt as everyone looked at the spilled drink on Minjun's shirt and lap. You hadn't noticed how fake the apology was, but that was fine by the boys, who made no moves to get napkins or something to clean it up whatsoever.

"It's fine, um, do you mind helping me get something to wipe it off with?" Minjun spoke towards the group.

"Oh, we would but we're already late so just have y/n send the dry cleaning bill, okay bye!" Jaemin replied, pushing the rest out the door to mimic a rush.

"Here, let me help you," you offered, getting napkins and wiping off his shirt as best you could.

"I'm so sorry about that, but please let me get the dry cleaning for this-"

"Don't worry about it," he smiled at you.

...................

As the date went on, it was clear that it wasn't going well. Maybe he had bad luck, but nothing was going the way Minjun had hoped it would. From the spilled drink to his phone getting lost and then his card getting declined, things weren't looking too good.

"Maybe we should call it a night so you can figure things out," you suggested.

"Nonono, we're going on this date," he insisted, almost sounding scary with how determined he was.

"No, really, we can go another time, you sound frustrated, not to mention your clothes, phone, and card-"

"So you're embarrassed to be with me, is that it?"

"Not at all, I'm just worried since you don't have your phone and your card is getting declined"

"I didn't know that you were a gold digger, would've never expected this from you, y/n" he scoffed.

"What? No, I'm genuinely-"

"Whatever, you should be thankful I asked you out at all"

That was your breaking point, only making a quick comment about wishing him home safely before speedwalking away. As you were in your head about what had happened, you bumped into someone. Someone very familiar.

"ah, I'm so sorry, y/n, I didn't mean to do that and bump into you, I was just-" Renjun kept rambling on with apologies until you cut him off with a hug. He awkwardly pats your back a bit until you hugged him tighter, making him relax and start brushing his fingers through your hair.

"What happened?" he asked you softly, voice calming you instantly.

"My date was an ass" you replied.

"I'm sorry, you deserve much better than that, any guy would be lucky to have you...or girl. I don't want to assume or anything you know and just-" he started rambling again.

A smile graced your features as he kept going on, thinking of how cute he was getting so worried as to whether he offended you or not. You simply laughed a bit, making him let go of the hug and scratch the back of his neck instead, a sheepish expression painted on his face.

"It's okay don't worry so much, Junnie" you reassured him.

He blushed a bit at the nickname you had used. If anyone else had called that, he might've threatened to punch them by now, but you were an exception. You were always an exception to him. You always will be because well, you're special to him. The only person that makes him not want to punch them every time they tease him or call him a nickname of some sort. Even if you dared to call him Renjeon or some other incorrect pronunciation of his name, he would still find it endearing.

"You still there?" you waved your hand at him a bit.

"Yeah, for you, I always am-"

"YEAH, THAT'S OUR RENJUN BEING SMOOTH AS HECK" could be heard from a nearby bush before abruptly being shut up. The voice sounding an awful lot like Jaemin if you were being honest.

Looking back at Renjun, whose face was now a deep shade of red, you laughed once again, this time at his friend's antics. He tried his best to smile back, swearing to get back at Jaemin when he gets the chance, but you didn't need to know that.

"This is embarrassing..." he cringed at his friend's comment.

"It's okay, you actually look adorable when you're embarrassed like this" you confess.

"I'm sorry about him, he's just- wait what? You think that I'm adorable...?" he gets even more sheepish than he was before if it was even possible.

"I always think you are" you let out another confession.

"I like you!" he blurts out with his eyes closed, scared to see your reaction.

You smile at him once more, even if he couldn't see it.

"I like you too, Junnie," you tell him.

"YEAH, GET IT RENJUN, THAT'S OUR FRIEND RIGHT THERE. OPERATION GET RENJUN A GIRLFRIEND IS A SUCCESS, SUCKERS"

"SHUT UP, JAEMIN"

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agentcable · 3 years ago

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Forgiveness

Title: Forgiveness TV: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit Pairing: Rafael Barba x OFC Prompt: “Do you forgive me?” Word Count: 2,167

Part 1 -- Part 3

Rafael just entered his shared apartment with Lauren. "Lauren? Are you home?" Rafael called out and put his bag down in his office. Before he went home he bought a dozen red roses to apologize for his behavior earlier in the day. The ADA listen closely but it was silent in the apartment. Too silent for his liking. "Lauren?"

Rafael walked into the living room and switched on the lights. The bouquet of roses was still in his hands. There was no sign of Lauren being home or at least she was home for a short time and then left. Maybe the latter is true because the apartment smelled after fresh baked cookies. He looked around the room and saw something standing on the dining table. The counselor walked over to take a closer look at it. He put the bouquet down on the table next to the romper on the table. Rafael carefully took it in his hand. He couldn't believe what he had in his hands.

"Future Havard Freshman" was written on the front of the grey romper. Rafael stared at the baby clothes for a long time. Suddenly he realized why she yelled at him that she can't have Carisis' kid. She already was having his. The man sighed and ran his right hand over his face. He had to find out where she was. It was clear to him that she wasn't here and now that he knew the truth... He had to make up for his mistake.

***

Meanwhile, Lauren was knocking on Olivia's apartment door. Shortly after her knock the door opened and Olivia let her in. "Thank you for letting me stay for tonight." Lauren put down her overnight bag and took off her shoes and jacket.

"Not for that. I'm happy to help out and Noah asked me when you're coming over again." She looked at her. "You and Rafael will work this out. After you left, he realized that he messed up bad."

Lauren got something out of her bag. "I hope you don't mind but I brought some cookies for Noah and you as a thank you. I made them myself before I left the apartment to come here." Just as Lauren finished the women heard feet running down the hallway.

The women chuckled. "Auntie Lauren!" the young boy yelled and hugged her leg. Lauren hugged him back. "I have brought some cookies with me." She gave him his small package and Noah had a huge smile on his face. "These are for me? All of them?"

Lauren nodded and gave Olivia her cookies. "These are yours. But you have to promise me something." Noah nodded eagerly. "Don't eat a cookie before a meal. First the meal and then cookies. And you have to ask your mom before you take one out of this box."

Noah laughed. "I can do that. Can I have a cookie, mom, pretty please?" The women smiled and Olivia nodded. "Fine. One cookie. Then go brush your teeth and change into your pajamas."

With that Noah took one cookie out of his box and put the rest of them on the kitchen island. Then he ran off into his room. "That should keep him busy for the next 30 minutes." Lauren and Olivia sat down on the couch. "How are you?"

Lauren sighed and shrugged. "I don't know. I feel disappointed by Rafael's accusation. I don't know how often I have to tell him that he's going to be the only man in my life. In a romantic way." They both smiled. "But sometimes he's insecure and instead of talking to me about it, he hides it until it boils over. I'm afraid that one day it's getting so far that we're not going to work it out and break apart. And I don't want that. Not when a child is going to be involved."

The women went silent. The silence was interrupted by Lauren's phone buzzing in her jeans back pocket. She got it out and looked at it. The screen showed that Rafael was calling. Lauren declined the call and put her phone on the coffee table in front of the couch. "I assume it's Barba, right?"

Lauren nodded. "I'm not going to answer his calls. I don't care how often he tries to reach me. He can stew a little." Just when she finished, her phone buzzed again. She declined again. "You know that he'll call until you answer him", Olivia stated.

"We both know he will. But I said it earlier: He can stew a little. I'll call him back later or tomorrow morning." Noah came back into the living room.

"Mom, I'm ready. Can I play with Auntie Lauren?" The boy held a card game in his hand. "Please?" Olivia looked to Lauren. Lauren smiled and took the game out of Noah's hand. "Of course, buddy. But you have to explain to me, how it works." Noah nodded enthusiastically. He sat down on the floor in front of the table and got ready to explain the game to Lauren. Meanwhile, Lauren put her phone in airplane mode. She didn't want to think about Rafael and the incoming calls and texts didn't help her.

***

When Olivia was sure that Noah and Lauren were engrossed in their game, she left the living room and went into her bedroom. After Lauren put her phone into airplane mode, Rafael was trying to reach her. The lieutenant had pity with the ADA. She wanted him to at least know that Lauren was with her and that she was fine for the time being.

Olivia closed her door and sat down on the bed. For a short moment, she was asking herself if she did the right thing. But before she could decide against her idea, she called Rafael back.

Rafael answered the phone after the second ring. "Olivia. Please tell me you heard anything from Lauren."

"I wish you a good evening, too, Rafael." Olivia looked at the mirror in front of her. "Lauren's with me and Noah." She braced herself for what's to come.

"I'm coming over. I need to talk to her." Rafael answered and Olivia could hear rustling in the background. "I'm an idiot and she needs to know. I don't want her to go to bed angry."

"Barba, I don't think..." But the lieutenant didn't even have the chance to express her concerns. The ADA had hung up on her. She sighed and just hoped for the best. The last thing she and Noah needed for tonight was a loud argument and one of the neighbors calling the police.

Olivia sighed and walked back into the living room. Noah yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Seems like somebody is tired and should head to bed", Olivia chuckled and tousled her son's hair. Lauren packed up the game they just finished.

"But I'm not tired", Noah protested and yawned again. "You sure are. Come on, I can read you a book if you want." Olivia took Noah's hand and went to his bedroom. "I'll be right back, Lauren. If you want, you can search for a movie we can watch." With that, she stepped into Noah's room to tuck her son in bed.

***

30 Minutes later, Olivia came back from her room. After she put Noah to bed, she changed into more comfortable clothes. "He's asleep." She sat down next to Lauren who also had changed into comfier clothes. "Found a movie we can watch?"

Lauren nodded. "If you don't mind I like to watch "Hunger Games". I started to watch it several times but never finished it."

"I'm fine with it. Start the movie. I'll just go and get us ice cream and something to drink. Chocolate and water." Olivia stood back up to get the ice cream from the fridge and water and two glasses. She brought everything over and sat it down on the table. "No wine?" Lauren asked her.

"No. We both drink water tonight. Drinking alone isn't fun." Olivia just opened the water bottle when there was a knock on her apartment door.

"You invited someone over?" Lauren asked her curiously. The lieutenant shook her head. "No. But I'll go and see who's interrupting our night." She gave Lauren the water bottle to pour into the glass. She tried to not let her see that she knew who's on the other side of the door.

Olivia checked a final time if Lauren was occupied. When she saw her reading a magazine she had at the table. The woman took a peek through the peephole. Sighing the lieutenant opened the door. "Barba, I told you not to come. I just called to tell you that she's safe with me and not in any danger."

"I know, Olivia. But I have to talk to her. I have to set it right. I don't want her to go to sleep after that fight." The counselor glanced at her pleadingly. "Please."

"What is going on, Olivia?" Lauren walked over to the door and stopped when she saw who's standing there. "Rafael... What are you doing here? How do you know where I am?" The three people stared at each other not knowing what to say to explain it.

"It doesn't matter but I want to talk to you, please." Barba took a step towards her, his right arm reaching for Lauren. The woman took a step away from him and the counselor stopped from going any further. "Lauren?" He was unsure what her reaction meant.

"You hurt me with your behavior today, Rafael. I know that you are insecure about yourself but I told you every time that you're the one I want to stay with. To be with until the end of time. There is no other man, no Sonny." Lauren had tears in her eyes. "But accusing me of cheating. That was low and stung. I never thought that you would say something like that. I would never do that. Not after seeing the aftermath, my mother went through."

The room went silent once again. Olivia still stood at the door. She didn't want to leave them alone. She knew that neither would do any physical abuse but she feared they would argue again. The lieutenant waited with bated breath for Rafael's answer.

Finally, Barba sighed and looked towards the floor. "I'm sorry, Lauren. I know what I said was wrong right after you slapped me. And after I found what you left behind in our apartment I was even more frustrated with myself." After that, he gazed back at Lauren. He carefully stepped towards her and grabbed her hands in his. "I'm really going to be a father?"

The tears Lauren tried to hold in were now flowing down her face. Rafael carefully brushed them away. Olivia closed her apartment door. Lauren smiled and nodded. "You're going to be a papi. And I know that you will be nothing like your father was when you're afraid of that."

They both hugged. Olivia smiled watching them. They let go. "You coming with me, cariño?" Rafael's voice showed hope. He didn't want to stay alone in their apartment. It felt cold and lonely with her by his side. But Lauren shook her head. "No, I'm staying here for tonight. I promised Noah to bring him to school with Olivia. Maybe we could do lunch together. Talk about us, what happened yesterday", Lauren suggested.

Rafael sighed. "Alright. But you should know that I am not happy to stay in the apartment alone."

Lauren chuckled. "I know. It's just one night, Rafi. You'll survive it." Rafael walked to the door and looked at Olivia. "Thank you for not kicking me out even though I didn't listen to you."

The lieutenant smiled and hugged him. "It's fine. If you had started arguing at the latest, I would have kicked you out." She opened the door. "Now, go and enjoy your night. I'm sure you have something to do, right?"

"Fine, fine. I understand what you're saying. I leave", Rafael laughed and left the apartment. Olivia closed the door behind him once again. She looked at Lauren. "So... Do you still want that ice cream?"

"Of course. Let's go eat that ice cream." The women walked back into the living room and sat down on the couch. Lauren gave Olivia her glass of water and a spoon. Then she put down the tub of ice cream between them. They both just wanted to enjoy the rest of their night before the next day come.

#law and order svu imagine #law and order svu fic #rafael barba #law and order svu #rafael barba x oc #svu imagines #rafael barba imagine

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noladyme · 4 years ago

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The Wife - Chapter 2

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. As rumors spread that Mr. James Delaney had returned to England – making a dramatic arrival at his father’s funeral – you might imagine mothers throughout London, rushing to present their marriable daughters to the man. They did not; and for three very good reasons. First; James Keziah Delaney was clearly damaged from his travels, and not a little dangerous. Secondly; it was the general opinion of the better society that Mr. Delaney had inherited his mother’s madness. Thirdly; Mr. Delaney was not single. In fact, he was very much married.

TW: angst, violence, blood, smut (7467 words)

He came to her, as she stood in the middle of a meadow of white flowers. As he walked towards her, the flowers he passed wilted. “Why are you here?”, Rosalind asked. “Because I cannot stay away”, James said. She put her hands on his broad, naked chest; and felt his heart beat as if he was really there, and not a dream vision. “Then don’t… I waited. Even after they told me you died; I still waited!”. “Why?”, James asked; putting his forehead to hers. “You know why, my love”. James pulled back from her, and pointed at the wilted flowers behind him. “This is what I bring. This is what will happen to you, if you let me in”. “You won’t hurt me”, Rosalind said, and reached for his hand.

He disappeared in the same moment, and appeared again, a way off from her. The white flowers were now all dead. “Death follows where I go. Do not put yourself in danger… I should not be here. Wake up”.

She woke with a start. The sun was already peaking through the gap in the curtains, and the room was cold. A wilted flower lay on the pillow next to her.

---

Two days later, Rosalind was seated on a plush sofa in countess Musgrove’s day room. She had long since given up on the card game, as the stakes were much too dear for her purse; and she was feeling dizzy and out of sorts. “I tell you, that feather made all the difference. Within minutes, he was meek as a lamb, and pleading with me to end the torture, and just let him finish!”.

The ladies in the room all laughed at the countess’ story. Musgrove herself relished in the attention, before turning to Rosalind. “Miss Beauchamp… or should I say; Mrs. Delaney”. The ladies all cackled. “Tell me; how is it, having your husband back?”. “Much as it was before he returned”, Rosalind said, surprised by her own bluntness. “Are you still being courted by that dashing Mr. Geary, then?”, a well-fed lady, who’s name Rosalind did not remember, asked. “I’ve never found him… dashing. And he smells like herring”. Rosalind could not cover the disdain in the voice.

The countess got up, and walked over to join her on the sofa. Her blue, silk gown covered most of the seat. It reminded her of water; and for a moment Rosalind considered stroking her fingers against it, to see if they would breach the surface of the fabric. The countess poured her another cup of tea, and handed it to her. “Please. I have it made especially”, she smiled. Rosalind took a sip, and tried – unsuccessfully – to hide how bitter the taste was. “It is not in everyone’s taste, of course. But quite expensive, I assure you”. “I’m sure it is”, Rosalind said.

The countess popped a meringue into her mouth. “Now, your husband…”, she said, after finishing chewing. “I hear he’s quite the brute”. “He wasn’t when I met him. Now, I do not know; to be honest”. “He has not moved you in to his house. Why?”. “You guess is as good as mine, my lady”, Rosalind said. “Perhaps he knows I am quite comfortable with Mrs. Owen”. “Bah, that old gossip monger”, the countess scoffed. “My maid tells me, she runs her mouth to every man or woman who will listen, about her tenants”. “I am not surprised. But my lodgings are fitting to my income, as it is”.

Musgrove raised an amused and overly painted eyebrow at her; while Rosalind took another sip of tea. “Are they? I hear your formerly dearly departed, now very much alive husband, is about to make quite a lot of money; from selling a plot of land. I’m sure you’ll be moving up in the world soon… You might not even need to take employment with me, the next time my niece visits”.

This was how Rosalind had met countess Musgrove a little over a year earlier; as she was entertaining her husband’s niece from Germany. The poor girl needed a chaperone for the rambunctious parties the countess hosted; and Rosalind had held the flabbergasted girl’s hand, as they made their way through rooms filled with acrobats and magicians. She had soon returned to Hanover, but Rosalind had been continuously invited to all the parties at the countess’ home; and had each time sent back a polite decline. She had accepted the occasional invitation for tea, and sat through the ridiculous gossip and banter such occasions had provided.

“I was not aware. We have not spoken much, since his return”, Rosalind said. “I have only seen him twice, and he never spoke of land or money”. She cleared her throat, feeling it suddenly dry. She could not stop herself from saying things, she felt she shouldn’t.

“But you must have heard about the land in America. Nootka Sound”, Musgrove said. “Here; have some more tea, for your cough”. She poured another cup for Rosalind; who took a large sip. “Only from Mr. Thoyt, my father-in-law’s lawyer”. A strange expression ghosted the countess’ face. “Mr. Thoyt… He has been in contact with you?”. “Well, I was the sole heiress to the Delaney estate, so yes”, Rosalind said. She took another sip of tea. “All my husband has spoken of; is how he believes someone is out to kill him”.

Rosalind halted herself. She felt as if she could not stop the words going through her head, from coming out of her mouth. Her hands shook, and she set down the cup on the small table next to her. “I’m terribly sorry, but I am feeling unwell. Would you mind having a carriage take me back to town?”. Musgrove took her hand. “Oh my dear! Are you sure you do not want to have a lie down in one of the guest rooms?”. “No, please. I should like to go home”, Rosalind insisted.

Musgrove got up, and walked over to one of the footmen, and said something below her breath. “… when she’s asleep…”, Rosalind thought she heard the countess say. She used her hand to fan herself; feeling not hot, but still like fresh air might do her good, in her faintness. When she looked up again, the other ladies were whispering at the card table, and the countess had disappeared off to somewhere. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when they opened again, she was alone, but for the countess, who had returned. “Come my dear. The carriage awaits”.

Rosalind managed getting into the carriage without too much help from the coachman. The countess waved her off, as they drove away. For a while, they drove down the roads leading from the Musgrove manor to London; and Rosalind let herself relax against the window. It became dusk while they drove, and the trip took longer than Rosalind expected. The coachman took a few turns she knew were wrong. “Driver, this is not the way back to town”, she called out. She noticed some of the same trees she’d seen earlier. “Why are you taking me back to the manor?”.

There was no answer, but the carriage halted, and she heard the coachman get down. Suddenly, the door opened, and the coachman entered the carriage; startling her. He pulled out a handkerchief, and pressed it against her face; with a firm grip to the back of her head. Rosalind screamed through the fabric, but when she inhaled, a strong acidic smell hit her nose; and she suddenly felt dizzier than before. “Sleep now, miss. You’ll feel better in the morning”, the coachman said. Rosalind let out another scream, and weakly struck at his head; before she had to give in. She had no fight left in her.

Another person entered the carriage; striking hard at the coachman’s head. A knife shaped as a claw slid across his abdomen, and Rosalind saw blood flowing from the wound. “Go back to Musgrove. Tell her the lady will be disinclined to return for tea, until she serves something of a better quality; and less disturbing to the senses”, James voice growled. Rosalind let out a gasp of relief mixed with exhaustion. She found it difficult to keep her eyes open, but managed to meet James’ eyes for a moment, as he pulled her out of the carriage, and tried to set her on her feet. “Can you walk?”, he asked. “No”, Rosalind replied; unable to raise her voice above a whisper. She collapsed against him, her face buried against his shoulder. She held on to his collar, but couldn’t stay on her feet. “Rose”, James breathed. Then everything went black.

---

There were flashes of lucidness. Leaning against a strong shoulder, seated in an open carriage. The smell of gutters, and sounds of laughing people. A street light forcing her to cover her eyes. A voice she knew, speaking a language she didn’t. Being carried up squeaking steps. A warm hand stroking her forehead.

She woke in a bed she knew well, and had slept in it many nights, years before. She was in the bed she was meant to have shared with James after they’d been wed, but had instead ended up sleeping in on her own, after he’d left. The room was darker than it had been when she had lived there; in spite of the fireplace being lit, and the candles set up on the nightstand.

Looking down at herself, she saw that her jacket had been removed, as well as her shoes; but otherwise, she was fully clothed. James was seated on a chair in the far corner; his expression dark and hard. “Did you kill him?”, Rosalind asked. “No. I had a use for him. He needed to send a message to your friends, the countess”, he said. “I did kill the pharmacist that sold her maid the powders she put in your tea, to make you compliant”. Rosalind shuddered at his words. “What happened to you, James?”, she asked. “I was always this. You are just seeing it now”, he replied. She sat herself up, leaning against the headboard.

They sat for a moment in silence, before Rosalind could take it no longer. “Will you not come closer? I can hardly see you in the darkness”. “I should not be close to you right now. I am very angry”, James replied. Rosalind went to get out of bed. “No, stay there”. “Are you angry with me?”, she asked. “Do I have reason to be?”. “I don’t know”, Rosalind admitted. “I know nothing about your dealings, and yet I fear I’ve let too much be known to others”. James nodded. “You did. But no; I am not angry with you”. Rosalind leaned forwards. “Then come closer. You won’t hurt me”. James got on his feet. “Do you believe I would hurt you, if I was angry with you?”. “No”, Rosalind replied.

A log in the fireplace cracked, and the embers lit up James face. His lips were parted, as if he was to speak again; but instead, he slowly walked towards the bed. Once close to her, Rosalind reached for his hand, and he sat down on the edge of the bed; allowing her to merge her fingers with his. “You put yourself in danger, when I asked you not to”.

“I didn’t know having tea could be dangerous”, she said. Swallowing hard, she met his blue eyes. In spite of the crows feet and the scar, they were still the same.

“You visited me in my dreams”, she said timidly. “Hmm”, James muttered. “I’m sure I’ve visited you there many times”. “But you did…”, she insisted “This does not sound like madness to you?”. “Madness that I believe you can do so?”, Rosalind said. James merely grunted as a reply. “You died, and then you came back. I believe you can do many things”. “Hmm…”, James grunted. Rosalind turned his hand in hers, and pulled it up to kiss his palm. “If you want to see me, don’t come to me in dreams”, she said. “I have dreamt of you too often. I want to you there when I am awake”.

James pulled his hand back abruptly, and got off the bed. He looked hard at her. “You are no longer safe on your own. You will move back into this house, where I can protect you”. “Is that the only reason why you want me here?”, Rosalind asked. She reached for his hand again, but he recoiled from her. “Sleep now”, James demanded. “You still have chemicals in you, it is why you are saying such foolish things. There is no such thing as visiting another person’s dreams”.

He left the room without another word.

---

The smell of coffee and bacon woke her. Rosalind gingerly stepped out of the bed; testing to see if her legs would hold. Once she was satisfied that they would, she looked under the bed. There, covered in a thick layer of dust, stood a pair of slippers. She smiled to herself, happy that she’d been correct in thinking she had left them here, when she’d departed the house 9 years before. They still fit.

She made her way down the stairs, into the sitting room. Two places had been set up for breakfast, and Brace was happily putting down a plate of eggs and bacon by the chair closest to the lit fireplace. The dog was laying in front of the fire, and lifted its head for a moment, when she entered. “Good morning, ma’am… or, miss”, he smiled. “I am glad to have you back in the house”. “Just a few days ago, you seemed to rather have me anywhere but here”, Rosalind chuckled, and seated herself in front of the delicious smelling food. “Well, maybe you can straighten him out. Lord knows, I can’t”, Brace replied, and poured her a cup of coffee.

“Bacon, Brace? We don’t eat pork”, James grunted; suddenly appearing in the doorway. He was dressed in trousers, and a blue shirt that was not tucked in. Tattoos were visible on his chest and neck, and the shirt exposed more of his skin than Rosalind had ever seen before. He was tanned, and looked strong. Heat pooled in Rosalind’s lower belly, and she had to look away. “Which is why I made you porridge”, Brace replied. “There’s no reason the lady should suffer, because you won’t eat anything from the market”. Rosalind stifled a smile, and raised a fork to her lips. “You bought this at the market?”, James asked. Brace nodded, and James sprang towards Rosalind; grabbing the fork from her, and throwing her plate into the fireplace. Some of the food landed in her lap. “James!”, Rosalind yelped. James raised an angry finger at Brace. “How many times must I tell you; we only eat what comes from Atticus. He is the only one I trust!”.

Rosalind got on her feet, and wiped the food of her skirt with a napkin. The dog got on its feet, and came over to eat the scraps that landed on the floor. James looked at her, his gaze slightly embarrassed. “I will have your things delivered here today”, he said. “Your clothes, and whatnot”. “I never agreed to stay”, Rosalind replied. Brace looked disappointed. “You don’t have a choice. What happened last night should be proof of that”, James retorted. “And, you are my wife. It is only proper”. “And you are all about propriety, are you?”. She let her eyes travel toward his partly uncovered chest. “I will fetch my own things, thank you". “I don’t want you leaving this house, until I’m sure it’s safe", James said.

Rosalind sighed in irritation. “Brace, I should like to eat in my room. Porridge will be fine��. “Honey?”, Brace asked. “Jam, please. If you have it”, she replied, and exited the room with as much pride in her step as she could muster. She heard another plate being smashed as she went; and hurried up the stairs.

---

She didn’t leave her room the rest of the day. Rosalind knew James was right. Though she had no idea why she was in danger, someone – quite possibly the countess Musgrove – had tried to kidnap her. Angry as she was at him, being in James’ presence – in his house – made her feel safer.

During the day, she heard shuffling upstairs in the attic. Heavy items being moved around, and steps across the floor. The senior Delaney had used the attic as an office, she knew, but she had only been up there a few times; and when she had, her father-in-law had been in a drunken stupor, and she’d had to help Brace get him down to his bed. The thought of James in the same condition, mad and rambling, made her heart sting with pain.

In the evening, she decided to go downstairs for dinner; needing a change of scenery. Her chest and travelling luggage stood in the hallway. On top of the chest, stood the new boots; still unused. She stood for a moment, looking at them, before walking in to the sitting room; where James sat at the dining table, bent over what looked like salted beef and potatoes. Rosalind sat down at the opposite end of the table.

“I’ll have to burn your old boots, if you keep refusing to wear the ones, I got for you”, James said; eyes fixed on his plate. “You don’t want me leaving the house. I don’t need boots”, Rosalind replied. James grunted nonsensically in response. “What was that?”. “Eat your food”. “Are you sure it’s not poisoned?” He looked up at her with narrowed eyes. “You should watch your tongue”, he said. “I am not afraid of you, James”, Rosalind snarled. “You should be. I am a dangerous man”. He returned to his food.

Rosalind poked at the meat on her plate. It looked unappetizing, and she decided to only eat the potatoes. “If you insist on keeping me here, I should like to know why", she said. James gave her a quick look, before downing a glass of brandy. “You don’t want to be here?”, he asked. ��You don’t seem to want me here, and I prefer not to overstay my welcome with anyone”. She put a piece of potato in her mouth, and chewed as femininely as possible; considering the undercooked consistency. She suspected these potatoes were of the kind, which would never be possible to cook properly.

James leaned back, and watched her intently. "Did my father ever give you any documents for safe keeping?”, he asked. “Something that might look like a contract, or a deed?”. Rosalind shook her head confusedly. Brace came into the room, with a tray of bread. “No. He wouldn’t let me near anything official looking. I was more or less an ornament, while I stayed here last". James narrowed his eyes at her. “How long did you live here?”. “A little over a year. Up until your letters stopped, and your father became too cruel", Brace said. James tensed up at this statement. “He wasn’t cruel", Rosalind said. “He was just in pain. He missed his son, and I reminded him of that". James studied her face intently. “You always seek out the good in others; almost to a fault, miss", Brace said. Rosalind blushed at Brace's words, though she was quite sure they were not truly a compliment.

She looked at James again. “You did not answer my question. Why am I here? And why did someone try to kidnap me yesterday?”. James looked at Brace, who shook his head almost pleadingly. “The lady wants to know”, James said. “Nootka Sound. Do you know of it?”. The old butler left the room, looking unhappy. “Not much. I’ve heard it is a plot of land in America". “Hmm…”, he grunted. “It is an area on the north-west coast. And it’s mine". Rosalind carved another piece of potato. “I was told you were about to sell it”, she said. “That is what they want. They tried killing me, so they could buy it from you, but they haven’t managed so far", James said.

A chill went through Rosalind’s body. “You’re not selling?”. “No. I intend to use it for myself. It’s located in a strategically beneficial place for trade…”.

James looked at her, as if he anticipated her next question. “And who are they?”, she asked. “The ones who want you to sell?”. He seemed to consider whether she was to be trusted enough to hear what was to come; before finally coming to a conclusion, and continuing. “The crown wants the land, to control the Americans; and the East India Trading Company wants it for naval trade. To add to them, are the Americans, who also want their hands on it. That is why Musgrove was trying to put her claws into you, yesterday”. “The countess is French", Rosalind said. James shook his head. “She is from New Orleans. An American spy”, he said. “All three parties believe they can use you; that if they have you, they can convince me to sell to them”. Rosalind pushed away her plate, and looked hard at James. “My life and yours are in danger, because you won’t sell a plot of land you’ve never even seen?”, she asked. “They probably won’t kill you like they would me, but rape and torture is certainly a possibility”, James said matter-of-factly. He raised a bottle. “Brandy?”. Rosalind shook her head. “I changed my mind. You are mad, James…”, she said; and pushed her glass forwards. “Make it a double”.

James got on his feet, and walked over to her, filling her glass. “I have a plan to keep you safe, and me alive”, he said. Rosalind raised the glass to her lips, and took a sip. “It is why you must stay here with me – and be my wife again”. Rosalind almost choked on her drink. “I… what?”. James handed her a napkin, and she wiped her mouth. “I am making arrangements to travel to America”, he said, and topped off her glass. “I can continue those preparations in secret, if we convince all three parties that I have instead decided to sell”. “How do we do that?”, Rosalind asked. “By you moving in here permanently”, he said. “They will believe that I have reunited with my wife. We are very happy, and I’ve decided that my future lies in England. It gives me free range to continue my preparations”.

Rosalind got on her feet, and reached for James hand; but he stepped back, to put some distance between them. “James…”, she said almost pleadingly. “Each of the potential buyers will want to keep me happy, so they will all be working to keep each other at bay. No one will touch you”, James said. And neither will you, apparently, Rosalind thought to herself. “This way, you are protected, until it is no longer necessary”. “And when will that be?”. “That is still to be determined”. James went back to his seat. “I am yet to purchase a ship, and I’m also still working on safe passage through the American blockade”. “And after you get that?”, Rosalind asked. “After I get that, I will go. You will be free of me”. He more or less ingested a piece of meat, looking like he could care less about the taste – he was only feeding a hunger, not enjoying a meal. “I will make out papers to leave you Chamber House. You can sell it or stay here, that is up to you… I will also leave you money; enough to keep you comfortable”.

Rosalind felt cold all over. James entire explanation had seemed indifferent to her emotions, how she’d longed for him for so long. “And I cannot come with you?”. He seemed surprised at her question, as if he’d never considered the possibility. “Why would you do that?”, he asked. She let out an exasperated sigh. “Because you are my husband. Because I loved you and you loved me, and maybe…”. “I told you. None of that”. He pushed away his plate. “Now, Mrs. Delaney, I have a use for you, and you have a use for me. Do we have an accord?”.

Rosalind looked at the garnet ring on her right hand. She’d kept it there for 7 years, unable to let go of him; but also, unable to wear it on the finger he had put it on himself, 3 years before that. “Why did you marry me?”, she asked. James met her eyes. His expression warmed; and he furrowed his brow, as if to make himself come across harder than he felt inside. “Because I was selfish. You did not see me as I was – as I am. You saw things in me I wanted to believe were there. It made me want you, but you deserved better”. “I still believe those things about you”. “Then you are a fool”. “I think you are the fool. There is no darkness without light. Goodnight, husband”.

She left the room, and went up the stairs; leaving James to his thoughts and plans.

---

In the morning, Rosalind woke up in determination. If James wanted a wife, he would get one. She held no hope that he would change his mind, and decide that he wanted her back; but if he was insistent on travelling to America – if that was what would make him whatever version of happy it was possible for him to be – she would do her part to make that happen. To add to that, she had no wish to be kidnapped, raped or tortured; and the only way to avoid that, seemed to be to go with the arrangement James had proposed.

Once dressed in her best morning dress, and she had made up her hair in a fashionable yet appropriately demure manner, she made her way downstairs to face her husband. He was not in the sitting room, but she found him nursing what looked like a terrible hangover, in the kitchen. Brace was seated by the fireplace, scratching the dog behind its ears. His face lit up when he saw her. “Good morning, miss Beauchamp!”, he said. “Mrs. Delaney from here on, Brace”, she smiled. The butler’s smile widened. “Coffee?”. He poured her a cup, and she sat down on one of the wobbly chairs, across the table from James; and looked over the kitchen. It was even drearier than the rest of the house; clearly vermin infested, and in need of a cleaning.

“I have terms”, she said. James looked up at her from his own cup; clearly wanting nothing but to be left alone. “Terms? You get protection for as long as needed; then this house, and money to live”, he said. “What else could you want?”. Rosalind took a deep breath, and tried to look as calm as possible. “Yes… the house. No lady with any kind of respect for herself, or her reputation, would live in it, in the state it is in now”, she said. “It must be cleaned; the leaking from the roof must be fixed; the furniture needs mending; and I want new curtains… Oh, and fresh flowers in every room”. “Why?”, James grunted. “I shall have to invite ladies for afternoon tea, and I will not have them gossiping about me being a bad housekeeper”. James looked disgusted at the prospect. “Tea…”. Rosalind smiled brightly. “Yes. Feel free to stay away on such occasions, if you are not comfortable with it. We will also need to light the fireplaces in all the rooms in use. It’s too cold here”. “There is not warmth in the Delaney house”, her husband grunted. “There will be now”, she retorted. “Hmm…”, James said. “Anything else?” “Yes”, she replied, and took a sip of her coffee. “The cleaning of the house shall extend to its inhabitants. Including the dog. Does he have a name?”. “Yes”, James growled. “It’s dog”. “Hmm”, Rosalind nodded.

Brace cleared his throat. “If I am to clean this whole house…”, he began. “You will not have to do it alone. We will employ a maid”. The butler’s eyes widened in fear. “Just for propriety’s sake, Brace. Don’t worry. She does not need to live here, and I can tend to my own dressing in the morning”. “You seem quite capable of that”, James muttered, and gave her a once over. “Ah, a compliment! How kind of you, husband”, Rosalind jeered. “You will of course have to extend those on occasion, especially in company, and when we promenade in public”. “I do not promenade”, James said, and took a sip of his coffee. “You do now. Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday, after church”. James sputtered in disbelief and disgust. “We must keep up appearances, James. Otherwise, this will never work”. James let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a laugh and a growl. “Agreed”, he said, and got on his feet.

“One last thing”, Rosalind said, halting him. James looked about ready to throw something heavy. “I will do my part to make your travelling to America possible; but as long as you are here, you will treat me with the respect a wife deserves. I do not expect you to be kind, or in any way affectionate and loving – you have made it clear that is not possible for you – but you will speak to me with curtesy, be honest and faithful; and never again imply that I am a whore”. “You dislike whores?”, James asked, a smile ghosting his face. “I don’t believe I’ve ever met one, so cannot say I do. After all, a woman must do what she can to survive in this world”, Rosalind replied. “But personally, I prefer sex without monetary exchange".

She got on her feet, and with a final smile, she left the kitchen; leaving a flabbergasted looking butler, and an angry looking husband in her wake. Rosalind smirked to herself, as she went to her room, to write down her plans for the renovation of Chamber House.

Soon after, she heard the front door slam, and felt the house shake from the sheer force of it.

---

She took in her lunch and dinner alone. In the evening, she was brushing her hair by the vanity, when her bedroom door opened, and James stood there, wet from the rainfall, and a devil in his eyes. Droplets of water fell from the brim of his hat, and onto his already soaking coat.

“Who?”, he said hoarsely. “What?”, Rosalind asked, shaken by his demeanor. “Who did you fuck?”, he growled. “Who did you let in you bed, while you belonged to me?”. She swallowed hard, and tried for a proud expression. “Maybe there was someone before you…”, she said. “No. You were untouched when I left. Now you are not. Who?”. He walked closer to her, and she got on her feet, backing away. “Geary?”. “No! I would never… Never him".

James grabbed her hand, and held it up in front of his, as if examining it. His grip on her wasn’t painful, but there was no way of releasing herself from it. He was strong, and had his mind set in one thing. Answers. They had not stood so close in years. “Then, who did this hand bring pleasure, hmm?”. He tugged her close, and with a firm grip on her wrist, he used his free arm to hold her in place against him; pressing it against her lower back. Rutting his hips forwards, they met hers, and Rosalind found it difficult to breathe, from the friction James' movement created. “And this? Tell me…”.

James broad frame was tense as a bowstring about to snap. His wet coat made the fabric of Rosalind’s nightgown damp, and she shivered, both from cold and from James pressing his groin against her own. “If I tell you, what will you do?”, she whispered. “I will kill him, for touching what is mine", James replied. “You left behind what was yours 10 years ago”, Rosalind retorted. “Since then, it has been mine to do with as I please. And for that, I will not let you commit murder. Do you mean to tell me you never laid with another woman while you were gone?". James growled some words Rosalind didn’t understand. She looked him in the eyes, never blinking or turning her gaze. She would not be intimidated. She was not in the wrong. “You don’t want me anymore. You should not be disturbed by the idea that another man does".

Unable to keep eye contact, James stepped back, letting out a snarling hiss, before turning around, and storming out of the room. “You left me, James. You left!”, Rosalind called after him. He slammed the door shut, and she fell to her knees, finally giving in to tears of heartache and a frustration over a need not fulfilled. She wanted her husband, soul and body; her own was practically screaming for his touch.

After a while, she climbed in to bed, and fell asleep, numb and empty of tears.

---

There were noises from the attic all night. Rosalind woke more than once, believing she’d heard voices, or maybe just one voice, having a conversation with itself.

When she woke in the morning, she spent some time mentally preparing herself for another day of loveless matrimony; and an, in spite of that, jealous husband. Then again, jealousy might be the wrong word. For all she knew, he might just be unhappy that someone touched his property. Brace had prepared breakfast for her in the sitting room. The house seemed, for once, not to be making a sound, and the silence was almost deafening.

“Where is he?”, she asked, once Brace entered the room, to take away James' uneaten breakfast. ”Finding another way to get himself killed, I’m sure", Brace grunted. “He left before sunrise”. “Why is he like this?”, Rosalind sighed. “What broke him?”. Brace looked at her with pained eyes. “James was broken long before he even knew it himself”, he said. “Whatever happened to him after he left England just brought it out, I’m afraid”. “I wish I had known…”. “Would you not have married him then?”. “I would. But maybe if I’d known, I could have…”. She couldn’t finish the sentence. “Saved him?”, Brace said. She looked down. “I believe that was his hope as well. I never saw him more alive, than just after he met and proposed to you”. “Then why did he leave?”, she whispered. “That is not for me to say, ma’am. But if he could have stayed, I believe he would have”. The butler gave her a sad smile disappeared out of the room again; leaving Rosalind to ponder his words, and remember.

---

There had been a ball, with drinks that were far too strong. She’d worn her favorite gown; one of red velvet, that she had made herself. Cadets from the academy had been present, and she’d not wanted for dance-partners. The only uniformed man who would not dance, stood brooding in a corner; gazing towards her once in a while. He looked deep in thought, and whatever that thought was, had put a deep furrow between his brows. Something made her want to see him smile, and when her partner in the next dance stepped on her toes for the third time, she caught the cadet’s gaze, and rolled her eyes. A hint of a smile traced his lips, and she felt her heart flutter at the sight. They’d spent the rest of the night in conversation, and when no one had looked he had broken all rules of propriety, and placed a chaste kiss on the corner of her lips. She had told herself that it was intoxication that had held her from slapping him; but truthfully, she knew better.

They had spent every chance they had the next month together, and whenever they had a private moment, their lips would meet; with each kiss growing bolder and more heated. Rosalind lived for his smiles and his gentle fingertips grazing her cheek. She knew it was lust, but she also knew it was love; and when suddenly he had dropped on one knee, she had not hesitated to agree to marry him.

They were wed six weeks after their meeting, with Rosalind never having been surer of anything in her life, than of James’ love for her, and hers for him. Then came the wedding night. With her heart in her chest, she had waited in what would be their bedroom from then on. He’d never entered the room, and she didn’t see him again for another 10 years.

---

The rest of the morning passed quietly. Unable to leave the house, Rosalind resolved to entertain herself by getting acquainted with the dog; who seemed to have no problem eating the salted beef she herself could not stomach. As she sat on the sofa to embroider, it fell asleep with its head on her feet. In the afternoon, she read the first three chapters of a book, before realizing that someone had ripped out pages from it; probably having used them for kindling. Boredom was taking over, but luckily Brace was obliged to play a few rounds of cards with her, before he had to tend to the kitchen. She noticed movement outside, and looking out the window, she saw a pair of rugged looking men tending to the garden, trying to make it look presentable.

James returned to the house just after she’d finished her dinner, with a young, dirty looking woman at his heels. He stepped in to the sitting room with a glum look on his face. “Your maid”, he said. “She will be here only during the day”. “I have employment elsewhere to attend to”, the young woman said; not meeting Rosalind’s eyes. Rosalind got on her feet and approached her husband. “I would have liked to speak to her, before you hired her”, she said. James stepped towards the dining table, away from Rosalind, and poured himself a brandy. “She has experience in the service industry, and you said you did not dislike whores”. The young woman stifled a smile.

Rosalind sighed defeatedly. “Right. What is your name, miss?”, she asked the woman. “Pearl, Mrs. Delaney”, the woman replied. “I’m glad to meet you, Pearl. Are you aware what your duties will be, as a maid?”. “Cleaning things, I suppose”, Pearl said. “I can’t cook, but I can make tea”. Pearl suddenly looked nervous that she might be sent away. “I don’t steal, and I don’t have no diseases!”. Rosalind smiled at her. “I’m sure you will do fine, Pearl. And we have Brace for cooking; don’t worry”. Pearl visibly relaxed. Rosalind noticed James looking at her through the corner of his eye, as he drank from his glass. “We shall have to find you a suitable dress, of course… Oh, and; I will on occasion receive guests here. I would very much appreciate it if you did not mention your other profession when I do”. “Just keep quiet whenever strangers are in the house”, James grunted. Rosalind sent him a chiding look. “When can you start?”, she asked. “Whenever you need me, ma’am”. “Tomorrow at 10 am, then”, Rosalind smiled. Pearl curtsied awkwardly, and took her leave.

Rosalind went back to sit on the sofa, and James took his seat in the chair across from her. He drained his glass, and set it down on the table next to him. Brace had left the mail for him there, and he picked it up, before seemingly remembering something. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out another letter. “This arrived for you at your former lodgings. Your landlady has opened and resealed it”, he said, and leaned forwards to hand it to her. “It’s from Mr. Geary”. “Did you read it as well?”, she muttered, and took the letter. “No, but I recognize his handwriting on the address. It looks like it was written in less anger than the one he sent me yesterday, threatening to kill me if I did not disappear from England again”. His tone was indifferent. “Well, I suppose it’s good you’re on your way to be doing that, then”, Rosalind said. He met her eyes again, and grunted nonsensically, before sitting back and going through his own mail.

Rosalind opened Geary’s letter.

To; Rosalind Beauchamp c/o Fanny Owen

My dearest Rosalind. I came to call upon you this Friday, but was told you were visiting with the countess Musgrove. It was my wish to extend my apologies for my unfortunate behavior when I saw you last. I realize I might have come across coarse in my manner of showing my affections towards you; but I pray you understand that I was struck by the urgency of the matter. With Delaney’s return, you see how I felt it necessary to make my plans of having you for my wife, known to you. I understand that for propriety’s sake, you had to let him escort you home; but I also know that deep in your heart you must long for me, as I do for you. Delaney will either fake his death, and leave England again, leaving you as heiress to the fortune – and the American piece of land – or actually die. Either way, you will be free of him; and we will be free to marry. We will have a rich and prosperous future together, my darling. With all my heart; Thorne.

Rosalind sighed and shook her head. “Another proposal?”, James asked. “Yes, actually”, she replied, and handed him the letter. James read through it quickly. “Well, he’s right about one thing. Before too long, you will be free to marry… Even him, if you’re daft enough to do so”. “He only wants me, because he thinks he can get your money that way”, Rosalind said. Picking up her needlework, she accidentally pricked her finger. “Fuck!”, she hissed, and put her bleeding finger in her mouth. James looked at her in startled amusement; his lips curling upwards. “I think you underestimate yourself”.

She got on her feet, and went to leave the room, when she made a decision, and turned around to face James again. “His name was William”, she said. James looked at her in confusion, before realization came through in his eyes. “William”, he grunted, and looked into the fire. “He was a soldier, but that is as much as I learnt about him”, Rosalind continued. “I was widowed, lonely and heartbroken; and for a moment, he made me believe I could be happy again”. “It only took him a moment, then?”, James said with a cold smile; but frowned when she began walking towards the door. “Rose…”. She halted, and looked at him again. “Don’t call me that…”, she said quietly. “I cannot bear to hear it now. That is what you called me when you loved me”. “No one else has ever called you that?”, he grunted. Rosalind shook her head, and swallowed hard. “No. That at least, was only ever yours. Good night”.

She retired to her bedroom.

---

She was in a forest, strange sounds and whispers surrounding her. He grabbed her shoulders from behind her, and leaned in to whisper into her ear. “Rose… my Rose”, he said. “Am I?”, she whispered. His arms snaked around her waist, and she leaned into his chest; feeling his lips against her cheek. “Yes. Always”. She turned around, and buried her face in the crook of his neck. “Not out there. Out there I am nothing to you. It is agony, my love”.

He leaned back, and put a finger under her chin; smiling at her. “Then let us stay here. We don’t have to go back”. The whispering around them intensified, and Rosalind looked around her. “I can’t live in a dream”. James took her right hand, and pulled the garnet ring from her finger; then lifted her left hand, and slid it onto her ring finger. “This is where it belongs, Rose”, he breathed, and leaned in; placing a soft kiss on her lips.

She woke with a gasp. Looking at her right hand, she panicked when she saw that the ring was gone from her finger. She frantically searched the bedsheets and cover to see where it had gone to; when she saw that it was right where it belonged. On her left ring finger.

---

#James Delaney #james delaney angst #james delaney x oc #james delaney fic #tom hardy

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 4 years ago

Text

Reckless (Dark Fic)

Summary: Waking home at night after a concert with her best friend she didn’t notice the police car standing on the other side of the street. Or the man following her in the middle of the night on her short way home. She could already see her house when she was pressed with her back against the wall, her hands handcuffed over her head. She should have listenend to her husband earlier who wanted to pick her up…

Warnings: Explicit, con noncon, mentions of stalking, obsession, breeding kink

Pairing: Dark!Walter Marshall x Nameless OFC

Wordcount: 2.8k

A/N: Okay so here it is. It’s something completely different to the stuff I write usually, but it’s been on my mind for weeks. Please read the warnings. I don’t want anyone coming in my ask box complaining about how sick I am. Thank you to @ladyreapermc who edited the shit out of it. Love you x

Masterlist

Humming to herself she walked down the dark road after attending a concert of her favorite band The taxi dropped her and her friend off at her house, where she had a beer before making her way home. It was only a five minute walk, so she declined someone bringing her home.It was a small town and it was almost midnight, on a school night. The only thing that would scare her along the way would probably be a stray cat.

With her headphones on, she fought the urge to sing along. She had to go out more. Between her job, the house, the man... She smiled to herself as she thought of him, probably still at work, trying to stay awake. When she met her husband almost 6 years ago, him being her knight in shining armour when her card was declined at the gas station, she thought he was just being nice, when he paid for her fill of gas. They got married two years after they met.

She didn’t notice the man following her as she took the shortcut through the dark alley to the right, already seeing her house in the dark just across the street.

Walter had watched her ever since she and her drunk friend got out of the taxi. She didn’t know that he had been watching her at every opportunity he got when he was free. No one would ever suspect a police officer being a creep.

He stayed seated in his unmarked police car, across the house she disappeared in. He wondered if she would be walking home by herself. As it turned out she was. He watched her say goodbye to her friend before she put her headphones on and all but danced down the street.

He waited until she was almost out of sight before he got out of his car and followed her. He knew that she lived only a couple minutes away. He knew there had been a concert in town and had seen her as he drove by the location hours ago. She was wearing that light blue summer dress. He loved how it looked on her. How it clung to the volume of her breasts and barely reached her knees.

He shook his head in disbelief when she took the shortcut through the dark alley. The light there went out months ago and nobody bothered to fix it, leaving that stretch of street completely in darkness,the light from the lamp post outside barely doing anything to help. It was the perfect place for what he had in mind.

She still had no clue that someone was following her, too lost in her music, too distracted to care and it gave Walter even more time to plan his move, to keep his identity concealed for a few more moments because she knew who he was, of course. He earned himself quite the fame after the killer twins a couple of years ago. He was the famous Detective Walter Marshall, the one who made everyone feel safe. No one would ever suspect that he could do the same things he arrested people for.

She was just about to step out of the alley, when she felt a strong hand around her left wrist, her back being pushed almost violently into the wall. A scream died on her lips when another hand covered her mouth.

“Don’t even think about it…” A gruff deep voice startled her as she pulled her hands up against his broad chest.

She didn’t even notice that she had started crying, slowly blinking her eyes as she tried to make out the face of the man who held her with his body against the wall. Once again, she tried to push him off, still not being able to see just who it was, though she knew the voice.

“If you want it the hard way…” He growled, the hand over her mouth moving to her neck, holding her still in a choke as he seemed to search for something. Her fingers scraped and slapped the strong forearm connected to the hand holding her still, but her struggles barely fazed him. He was so much bigger than her, so much stronger. Her resistance was futile.

Once he found what he was looking for, Walter grabbed one of her wrists, watching as her eyes widened in surprise at the familiar click and the cold metal surrounding her wrist tightly. He tugged her arm up, releasing her throat long enough to grab her other arm and pull it up, handcuffing her to the rusty metal railing of a fire escape stairs hanging right above her.

“No… No No No No no…” She shook her head as panic started to set in. Why didn’t she stay at her friend’s house?

“What brings you here in the middle of the night, sweetheart? Look at me.” He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“Det… Detective Marshall?” She asked. She would recognize the eyes of the handsome Detective anywhere.

Marshall might just be the most handsome man in the small town they lived. Always polite and helpful, even if somewhat grumpy, but right now there was also something animalistic about him that she found highly attractive.

“How many times did I tell you not to wander alone through the night, hm?” He asked.

“But.. It’s safe around here…” She managed.

“Clearly not.” He grinned down at her and she shivered.

“What… What are you going to do to me?” She whispered.

“Oh… Nothing you’re not going to enjoy.”

His hand ran down her side, pausing at the bare skin of her thigh and she finally realized what was about to happen.

“Please… Please don’t. You’re better than that…” She whimpered, tears escaping her eyes.

“Oh hush… I’ve seen how you look at me. Don’t pretend you haven’t fantasised about how it would feel….” His hand forced itself between her legs. “if I’d touch you right here.”

She pressed her eyes close. Imagining being everywhere but here. Her arms above her head felt heavy. How was this happening?

“Stop struggling. You’re clearly enjoying this…” He hummed, feeling her warm and damp core with his fingers.

“You could have had this the easy way. Without forcing me…” She cried.

“Where would be the fun in that, hm?” He asked. “I see you around all day, wearing all these sexy clothes, and you don’t even notice that everyone is staring at you, don’t you?”

She looked at him, noticing how his dark gaze watched her every move. He was so handsome. Would probably be even more handsome with a new haircut, yet the dark curly hair that screamed to be touched made him appear even more… beastlike.

She had always been fascinated by his eyes. How they seemed to hold all the answers in the world. She never would have thought that a deep inside he caged a monster that he now was ready to unleash on her.

“Just get it over with then…” She said, suddenly feeling very tired. He pushed his groin against her pelvis, making her hiss. She could feel his hard cock, as he brought his face so close his breath tickled her skin and she could smell the coffee he must have had earlier that night.

“Oh no… I want you to enjoy this….” His lips crashed down on hers, all teeth and tongue, his hips rolling against hers. “And I want you to scream my name every time I make you cum.” He whispered into her ear, biting her earlobe as his fingers ripped her panties off, making her gasp.

Why was this happening to her? And why on Earth did she start to enjoy this?Anywhere his hands touched her body seemed to be on fire. She could feel herself getting wetter and wetter everytime his hand wandered down her body, despite her best attempts to keep her legs closed. But if to deny him accept or to offer herself some blessed friction, she didn’t quite know.,. However, Marshall was undeniably stronger and pried her thighs open, pushing his clothed thigh in between them. The whimper that escaped her lips, she didn’t know if it was of fear or relief from having the supple muscle pressing against her aching flesh.

“I wonder if you taste as good as you look…” His grin was more a bearing of teeth of a hungry predator as he cupped her breasts, squeezing them harshly, making her whimper once again.“Like they were made for my hands…” He yanked the neckline of her dress down, the noise of ripping fabric filling her ears and exposing her hard nipples to him.

“And wearing no bra… It almost seemed like you wanted this….” He whispered in a mocking tone, before he leaned down and bit onto one of her nipples, making her cry out.

She struggled against the handcuffs, wanting nothing more than to escape, yet at the same time she didn’t want him to stop. She hated herself for enjoying the way he sucked on her nipple, hard. She would have marks from him for days.

“Everytime I see these tits I’m hard as fuck. Do you feel that?” He pushed himself closer against her. “Sometimes I think about you when I’m alone. How you feel. But fuck the real thing is better than I imagined.”

Gasping she threw her head back against the wall as she felt his other hand on her pussy. He pushed one finger in, making her cry out, while his other hand pinched her other nipple.

“So tight and wet.” He groaned, looking up at her. He brought his finger up, licking it.

“Better than I imagined. Tell me how many men fucked this pretty pussy?” He asked, taking a step away from her. He looked at her, so helpless, her arms over her head, her lips flushed and swollen from his kisses.

He couldn’t believe his luck. Having her here. Where she couldn’t run. At his mercy.

She didn’t answer him as she watched him open the fly of his pants. She could see his gun on his holster, making her gulp. Feeling herself shivering as he pulled his cock out, she closed her eyes. He was big. Probably too big for her. She could only hope that he would prepare her a little. Otherwise this would be even more painful than it already would be.

“Aww don’t close your eyes. Look at what you did.” He hummed. Breathing in deep she opened her eyes, looking into his.

“Like what you see?” He asked. In one last effort to stop him she brought her knee up as he stepped closer. It didn’t do anything.

“You fucking slut.” He growled, slapping her across the face, making her cry out.

“I was going to go gently on you, but you don’t want it gentle, do you?” He pushed the remains of her dress up, spitting into his hand rubbing his hard and throbbing cock.

“You want to be treated like the whore you are…” He grabbed one of her legs under her knee, pulling it up around his waist, his cock at her entrance.

“No… No don’t.” She cried.

“Oh shut up. I can feel you dripping on my cock already. Want me to cum inside you, huh?” He chuckled. She shook her head, a million scenarios going through her mind. She could end up pregnant from this.

“At least use a condom…” She pleaded. He stopped, looking down at her.

“No. I think I want to risk you ending up pregnant with my baby. Maybe that’ll teach you a lesson.” He said, before she felt him push inside of her.

All breath seemed to be pushed out of her body. She must have been wetter than she thought because it didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. He hissed, pulling out of her before he thrusted his cock inside of her in one motion making her scream.

“There you go.” He hummed. He could see the tears in her eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.” He groaned as he bottomed out, only to slam back in, making her moan. He grabbed her other leg, pushing her against the wall as he began to thrust into her almost violently.

She whimpered, the feeling of his hands grabbing her legs so hard it would leave marks as he fucked into her, making her cry more.

“Even better than I imagined. I think I wanna make you cum…” He whispered. She felt one of his hands leave her legs, that she unintentionally crossed behind his back, as his fingers found her clit.

“You like that?” He rubbed her nub, swallowing her cries as he kissed her hard. She bit into his lip, making him groan.

“Fuck you Walter.” She hissed. She could see the muscles in his jaw twitch as he looked at her. Two of his fingers rolled her clit in between them, making her cry out.

“Cum for me you fucking slut.” He growled, thrusting harder into her.

“No…” She cried, even though she could feel herself getting close.

“If you don’t cum, I won’t stop.” He threatened. “We’ll be here until you cum, no matter how long and how often I cum inside of you.”

“No.. Please….” She cried, turning her head away from him.

“Look at me.” He growled. She swallowed the lump of shame and arousal clogging her throat, turning her head towards him. “I want to look into your eyes when you cum. I can already feel you tightening around my cock. And you better scream my name when you cum.”

He marked every word with a hard thrust making her cry out. Hot tears burned tracks down her cheeks as she tried to fight him off, but her movements seemed to be meeting his thrusts, sending spikes of pleasure up her body.

She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making her cum, but the way he was fucking her, the way he was touching her, pushed all of her buttons. With every thrust, every flick at her clit she felt herself growing closer. He brought his other hand to her neck.

“You better cum now…”

His movements grew harder, faster as his hand closed around her neck, choking her. The knot inside of her exploded, leaving her breathless as she cried out his name, her orgasm taking over her body. She shivered against his body, not even noticing as his hand left her neck, landing on her ass as he pushed her into him with every thrust. She didn’t feel the handcuffs around her wrists, the metal biting into her skin, leaving a bracelet of bruises. She only felt overwhelming pleasure, riding out the longest and probably most intense orgasm she ever had in her life.

“Fuck. Yes. Just like that. You ready for my cum, slut?” Walter growled. She only whimpered in his response, caught between pleasure and disgust as she felt him still inside of her, his cock pumping his seed to where she least wanted it. Silently crying, she felt his forehead on her shoulder as they both tried to catch her breath.

She heard the rattle of keys, before his hands opened the handcuffs.

“Slowly.” He shushed, as she groaned. He put her arms around her shoulders, as he picked her up, her gentleness such a contrast to the brutality of moments before. She breathed in deep.

“Are you okay?” He whispered. She blinked her eyes open, looking at him. The dark gaze, the monster was gone, and left was only her Walter. He rubbed his hands over her wrists where she slowly got the feeling back.

“I’m perfect.” She sighed blissfully. He didn’t set her down, instead picking her up, but not before he made sure that she was fully covered. When did he pull up his pants?

“Was that good?” He asked. She finally opened her eyes, looking at him, as he slowly walked towards their home.

“I didn’t know you would really do it.” She said. Even in the dark she could see him blush.

“You trusted me with your fantasy and I was kinda curious.”

“It was just like I imagined.” She said, kissing him softly. “And it was kinda hot seeing you so… dominant.”

“Really?” He asked with a grin. She only nodded, playing with the soft curls on the back of his head as he searched for the keys to their house.

“How about a long hot bath and then we go to bed?” He asked as he unlocked the door.

“Sounds perfect.” She smiled tiredly. “I love you, Walter.”

“I love you too, baby.” He smiled back, before he kissed her forehead.

#fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #Walter marshall #henry cavill #Walter Marshall x reader #Walter Marshall x ofc #dark fic

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dinogoofy · 4 years ago

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Rain x GN! Reader.

Asshole.

Its taken me two weeks to get back into the flow of writing fics, but I hope you guys like this!

Warning for swears.

(Disclaimer that this takes place from mkx to mk11, and is not perfectly accurate to the storyline that comes after aftermath, but its my own AU if how I wish it ended, so...)

----

"Shao Kahn was already pushing the line, but mileena as well? Rain, think about what you are saying!" He huffs, his gaze shifting to your eyes.

"You know my reasons." Squeezing your eyes shut, you pressed the palms of your hands to your temples. It's difficult to understand what is going on in Rain's head sometimes.

He had always been hard to deal with. Rain had hired you to help him find someone a while back. Your family line was well known in all relms for their tracking abilities and moral code. You had your doubts about accepting Rain's offer, but the payment offered was more than enough to get you on board.

As the months grew longer, the hunt slowed to a stop. There were No tracks. No clues, not a single strand of evidence to be followed. Rain's brothers remained untouchable. In the meantime, you and Rain had become... close. And you stayed by his side as he shamelessly served Shao Kahn.

Before this, you has always been neutral on outworlds chaotic ruler. But after meeting Kitana and learning of his cruelty in both his political and personal endeavors, you became increasingly uneasy as you remained with Rain.

But now, Shao Kahn was dead. Kotal had taken his place. And it was time to make a decision.

"Is the power- will it ever be enough for you?! Will you ever be satisfied? Mileena is a wild card, Rain! Agreeing to serve her is madness!" Rain's hands flexed, shoulders set back, eyes hard and zeroed in on you. You knew Rain well, you thought. And you could tell there was no getting through to him.

"The power will be enough when I say it is. I deserve everything I want. You deserve-" your heart fluttered as he cut himself off abruptly. Your demeanor softened, and his did too. You almost didn't notice as he started to take a few steps closer to you. His silence was deafening.

"I think you know what I am about to say," He was closer now, close enough for you to just barely feel his breath on your face. He has taken off his mask, and it took every bit of restraint you had to resist throwing yourself in his arms. No. You would never so such a thing. You scolded yourself for being so emotional.

"Do I?" He lifts a hand to caress your face, and against your better judgment, you melted into his touch. You could tell that this was an act. It had to be. From the very beginning you knew that he would most likely only ever love himself. You told yourself that this moment to him is only a chance to get you to remain with him as a pawn. You had always been a pawn to him, and you could tell he hadn't realized you always knew. Still yet...

"Despite my fondness for you Rain, I think this may be where our paths diverge." His body language remained stiff, but he pressed his forehead to your own. His lips in a thin line.

"I know..." This was quite enough. He was such a bad liar that it had started to hurt. You take his hand off your face and into your own, taking a step back from him. Your eyesight locked onto your conjoined hands only.

"This will not be the last time we meet, I can promise you that." For better or for worse, you silently continued after.

"Good. I'll be anticipating our reunion." You take one last good look at him, holding back the words, the tears, the angry and loving things you wish you could say to him in this moment, and you leave him there.

Sometimes, honor and common sense must come before a one-sided love.

You portal back to earthrelm for the first time in months both physically, and emotionally, alone.

----

Whatever time debacle that had just occurred ment, you sure as hell didn't want any part of it. After less than half a week, your younger self had disappeared from the old farmhouse where you lived, and almost everything had gone back to normal.

You hadn't heard from any if your outworld friends in quite some time now, and had faith that whatever had happened, they had it taken care of.

You had just returned from helping an elderly neighbor track down some lost cattle, and were currently curled up in the sofa with a warm cup of tea. Simply enjoying life altogether.

-When a sudden light filled the room, starting you enough to drop your mug, and two figures stepped out of the portal as it shattered on the wooden floors.

"Did we catch you at a bad time?" Fujin had a friendly smile on his face, Nightwolf by his side, his serious counterpart. You were so shocked you almost forgot about the glass.

"Fujin, Nightwolf, I'm almost happy to see you! It's been a while."

"It has," Nightwolf replied, "But I am afraid that this visit isn't simply to reconnect." You sighed, life could never just be simple, could it?

"I had a feeling." You stooped to clean the glass, inviting them to sit while you picked up the pieces. Nightwolf politely declined while fujin stopped to help you.

"Rain has returned. Along with Mileena." If you were drinking water, you were sure that you would've done a spit take. Your head snapped back to look up at fujin, heart almost stopping for a moment.

"I- I thought Mileena was-"

"Dead. We know. After the past and present merged she managed to worm her way into outworld again."

"And... and Rain?" Fujin and Nightwolf shared a look. Oh gods. They knew. They definitely knew. You busied yourself with the glass, taking the other pieces from Fujin and absent-mindedly walking over to the trashcan.

"Rain had resurfaced around the same time Mileena did. We caught them mid battle with an earthrelm man before both disappeared." The glass hitting the bottom of the trashcan was as much of a distraction you allowed yourself to have.

"Rain and I have cut ties. How does this involve me?"

Fujin spoke; "Kitana is now Kahn of outworld. Both he and Mileena want to take her throne, we are asking you to keep Rain in check while we deal with Mileena's uneveitable attack."

You froze for a moment, blankly staring into space. You would get to see Rain again. Maybe even have a chance to sort out the mixed emotions you've been holding in for so long. (By tracking him down and beating the shit out of him, of course. ) But most likely he would hold a grudge for the rest of time afterwards, despising you for "keeping him from his potential". Then again, you thought about Kitana. No, Kitana Kahn. For a moment all you could think about is how proud you were of her. Your old friend, restored to her kinder self and now ruler of outworld. It took a moment but you finally gave the two men an answer.

"I'll do it."

The men nodded.

"Buy us as much time as you can."

----

This was such a bad idea.

You had tracked Rain down in less than a day, and now as he stood before you, you prayed the swell of your broken heart would go down before you choked on your new mission.

Rain was roasting fish over a small campfire in the thickest part of the jungle you had ever been to, a wide smirk on his face. He was not at all surprised to see you, in fact, something about him seemed... different. More genuine. But maybe that is just the hunter part of your brain speaking. The more distracted the target is the easier the takedown will be. He called your name.

"It's good to see you," you swallowed hard, starting to regret agreeing to this before you spoke.

"I wish I could say the same." He stood, sauntering over to you. For a just a moment, his facade almost dropped at your words. You almost didn't catch it. Was he sick? What had happened to the rain you knew? The lair, the theif? No. He hadn't changed, you had to be over analyzing everything about him.

"I believe I know why you are here. Does your support of Kitana really outweigh our past?" The way he said your name after almost made you choke. You narrowed your eyes at him, curling your fists.

"Trust me. That kindness I showed you then won't transfer into Kombat."

The fight was a difficult one, and yet you still won. The demigod, exhausted and face down in the brush, could no longer fight. As you wound your enchanted rope around his wrists, Rain started to chuckle.

"I'm starting to wish I never gifted you that rope." A sly smile plastered itself on your face as you continued to focus on the knots.

"It was designed to help me keep your brothers trapped, you should've known the risks when you commissioned it." Rain mumbled something petty, and you replied by yanking him up off the dirt and into a sitting position, leaving him for just a moment to prod at the dying embers of his fire. You could practically feel his stare burning into the back of your head as he eyed you from behind.

"You are still just as beautiful as I remember." You were thankfull for the setting sun as your cheeks flushed red. He had never sounded so genuine about a compliment before.

"Flattery won't get you out of this." You stated as you sat down next to him, biting into the fish that he was cooking earlier. Damn. The taste was nice reminder of your old days together.

"Worth a try." You snickered at him. His personality surely hadn't changed much, but the way he glanced at you every once in a while caught you off guard. The beating of your heart being a disappointing reminder that you still loved him.

"I realized something the day you left," His drawl of your name caught your attention, but you said nothing, continuing to stare into the small, dying, fire.

"I know you will not believe me, not now, not ever. But I never truly knew how much I cared for you until you were walking away from me." Absolutely not. No. FUCK No. He was not going to do this to you now. GODS you hated how genuine he sounded, how genuine he seemed. It felt like anger and something else were stabbing the inside of your lungs and ripping out pieces of yourself.

And yet part of you knew that for once, he wasn't lying when he said that. At this point, logic had all but escaped from your mind. Grabbing him by the collar of his stupid purple armor, you stared in his eyes, searching for any sort of indication that this was all some well performed lie. But...

Rain was being genuine. He thought that he could rule alone, but the loss of your support ment a more to him than he thought anything ever could. And he hoped that after everything, you would believe him. (This did not mean he would just ignore the fact that you have him under arrest at this moment, however.)

"If I ever find out that you are lying, I'm killing you on the spot. Understand?!" Rain smiled widely as your eyes bore into him. He knew you were serious, you always had been one to keep promises.

When he leaned forward to kiss you, the anger dissipated just a bit, but your resolve, as always, remained the same. You never thought that a kiss would feel so good.

#mk11 #mk x reader #rain x reader #mk rain #mortal kombat #mkx mortal kombat x #mk imagine #gender neutral reader #reader insert #x reader

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julia-highstorms · 4 years ago

Text

Undermount series: The Heir to House Nightbloom

Chapter 1 - Shocking News

Summary: The story revolves around Luxia (my MC), who has her life turned upside down when both her parents die and she’s back to Undermount, to live with her grandfather, Sir Emrys Nightbloom, a respected scholar and private professor to the most influential houses. Now, being an outsider to the elven society, she must learn its culture and traditions and how to fit in (or not). While falling in love with the heir to the Ascendent House, Tyril Starfury.

Author’s note: I am very excited with this idea and it had been playing in my mind for a while now, so I thought “what the hell!” and I am finally posting the first chapter here! I wanted to write a couple more chapters before start posting it because I know me and it will take me 84 years to post a new chapter 🤦 but oh welp. Maybe posting it now I force myself to write more regularly? Who knows. Anyway, sorry in advance for the lateness of upcoming chapters.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixelberry Studios.

Rating: T (trigger warning: death, violence)

Pairing: Tyril Starfury x Luxia Nightbloom (F!Elf!MC) - read more about them here

Word count: +1.8K

___________________

Chapter 1 - Shocking News

The young lord leaned comfortably against his favorite armchair and looked outside the window, admiring the House Starfury Gardens.

That was one of the few moments in which he could sit down with a book in his hands and relax. Just relax.

As Tyril reached majority, more and more responsibilities were passed down to him by his father - Valir Starfury, the current Lord Starfury -, which the young man accepted proudly. Sooner or later, they knew he would inherit that duty as Valir aged and his health declined, so it was only natural that his first born child would take his place as the head of the House.

So, those rare moments of complete peace were always welcoming to the young man. Whenever he had a spare moment in his agenda, Tyril would lock himself in his study room to read and let his imagination run free. He firmly believed that few activities could bring him such joy as reading.

But today, somehow, he was unable to do so. He tried to pick up where he had stopped in the book, but was unable to focus. So he picked his favorite map and opened it. Sometimes, when he was unable to concentrate, he liked to open the old map and study all those places he had read about. Whitetower, Port Parnasus, Flotilla… Places he was sure he would never see in real life, only in his imagination.

But that proved to be an equally unsuccessful activity. The young lord did not know why, but he was feeling restless today.

Finally giving up after his fifth frustrated trial, Tyril decided to just relax. He watched the scene that unfolded in the house's gardens through the large windows for a few moments, the world complete serene.

He wondered to himself why the gardener was watering the plants when it was clear that it was going to rain soon. The sky was filled with dark and low clouds.

But his thoughts were soon interrupted when Adrina stormed into the room. He turned his face to his younger sister and raised a single eyebrow, surprised by that display of rushness.

"My dear brother, I've finally found you!" - she panted out of breath, her cheeks flushed. - "You won't believe what happened!" - but even before he could ask her what indeed had happened, she spilled it in a rush of words: - "Sir Nightbloom's son and daughter-in-law are dead and his granddaughter is back to Undermount!"

___________________

A week earlier

House Nightbloom was fated to great things.

At least, that was what Emrys Nightbloom stated and firmly believed.

Those from that house were known to be great scholars, masters of a greater magic and undying loyalty, with generations and generations of tutors and professors who dedicated their lives to teach young lords and ladies of the nobler houses, gaining status and prestige through the centuries.

They were one of the ancient houses, but had lost their importance through the years since the Great War, when Gustaf Nightbloom decided to flee instead of staying and fighting. But as Sir Emrys himself believed, better be an alive coward than a dead hero, because those that were able to move worlds were the alive ones. And that was what the past generations of the House Nightbloom had been doing since their embarrassing display during the fatidical war. They were great strategists and were able to restore some of their previous glory through the last millennia.

They would never be a noble house - unless one of their descendants married a noble house -, but they attended that social circle closely.

Sir Emrys Nightbloom was its current head and a very respected professor within the elven society, having taught some of the great houses' lords himself. Such as Lord Valir of House Starfury, the current Ascendent House. And his heirs, Young Lord Tyril and Lady Adrina. By this, it was easy to presume how old he was.

But Sir Nightbloom had never been ashamed of his age. In fact, he was very proud of it. He had lived longly and greatly, and was among one of the wisest citizens of Undermount.

And being that wise, he knew that he was doomed. House Nightbloom had no direct heir.

Of course it wouldn't cease to exist, but when he died - which he was pretty sure would happen sooner than later. It didn't matter he had been saying that for the last 30 years, he knew this year he would definitely go -, the House's leadership would pass on to his younger brother, Qildor, who wasn't much younger than him, but much less… wise. His hobbies were playing card games and drinking lots and lots of elven wine. Old Emrys was worried that his brother could bring shame and dishonor to the House Nightbloom again, after all those centuries of hard work from their ascendents.

If only his only son, Kal, hadn't decided to be an adventurer and leave Undermount… Sir Nightbloom would be feeling much more secure about the House's fate.

It was a cloudy Saturday afternoon, and the old man found himself in his garden - besides teaching, Sir Nightbloom's great passion was taking care of his collection of exquisite flowers and trees -, when Siveril, the butler, came running toward him.

"Urgent news, Master Nightbloom. I'm afraid they're disturbing."

"Well then, shoot!" - he said, not taking his eyes off of his majestic yellow hibiscus.

The other man nodded and stepped closer to whisper into his ear. Sir Nightbloom's eyes widened and he even let the pruning shears he was holding fall onto the floor, as shock spreaded through his body.

"Are you sure?" - he asked after Silveril helped him to sit down on a bench.

"I'm afraid so, sir."

"Both of them?" - the butler nodded. - "And… and… what about Luxia?"

___________________

Everything happened in a blur.

One moment, she was laughing and talking with her parents, and the next moment, the small village they lived in, Riverbend, and their house was invaded and they were attacked by a bandit raid that took the lives of a dozen of villagers. Including her parents.

Luxia's mother promptly ordered her to hide inside the supply closet in the kitchen. She heard everything, her parents' cries as the blade slashed through their flesh, drawing out blood, while she forced herself to be as quiet as possible as they were being killed.

She crawled out of her hiding place only after she was sure that the bandits had left her house.

The young elf was found by Kade - her neighbor and childhood friend - and other villagers just hours later, after the bandits had been dealt with. The young human's parents had been killed too, but luckily, he was outside at the time of the attack.

The last two days went on a frenzy. The village's physician had examined her and stated that, although she didn't suffer physically, she was deeply traumatized. She had the vague memory of being asked if she knew about any relative she could have, and she told them about her grandfather in the elven city of Undermount, to the north.

She still could hear their screaming ringing in her ears, and the scene she saw when she left her hiding place. She found her parents lying on the floor, both dead. There was so much blood, the furniture and walls were stained by it. Their bodies dilacerated. They were stabbed to death.

She kept staring at them, unable to move or to do anything. The neighbors' screamings and cries for help could be heard from outside as the bandits invaded other houses, but Luxia couldn't pay attention to any of it. All she could think about was that Mom and Dad were gone.

Now, two days later, she was again staring down at her parents' and other villagers' bodies. Kade's parents were among them. Luxia was lined up with the other survivors, paying their tributes to those who had lost their lives in that vicious attack.

Even though Kal's and Irin's corpses lied in front of her, covered by blankets, waiting to be buried along with others, she still felt numb and overwhelmed by all of those events. She was unable to let a single tear out.

The burial was long and painful, everyone helping and digging graves for the dead, and it took the whole day. Those who had lost their families were being taken care of by other villagers. A kind farmer took her and Kade under his protection.

She was left in one small bedroom by herself and her thoughts. The young elf lied down and tried to sleep, but she just couldn't shut her eyes. Her mind kept replaying the events of the past couple days again and again and endless questions popped up in her head.

How could that have happened? Could she have done something to save her parents? Should she have been killed with them? What was she going to do now? She had nobody. Of course, the people of Riverbend wouldn't throw her away and she knew a thing or two about medicine and cures… she could work with it.

She tossed around the narrow bed. Mom… Dad… What was she going to do? She already missed them. She felt so alone…

And then. An idea popped up in her head.

The girl sat up and looked over to the old desk across the room. Not thinking twice, she went over there, lighting up the candle and pulling a blank sheet of paper and a pen. And started writing.

Emrys Nightbloom. That was the name of her grandfather. She knew her father and he didn't see each other in the eye, but he was the only family she had left.

Although she had grown up in Riverbend, and she had few friends there, like Kade, they weren't her family. And she had been and would always be treated differently. Because she was an elf. Maybe, among others like her, she would feel less of an outcast. Although she didn't have much faith in it.

Her grandfather and she were nothing but strangers, but still, she was positive that he would take care of her. He was family after all, and one thing she knew for sure was that the most important thing in the elven world was your House. Your family. So, she had to try something.

That same night, Luxia sent away her letter. She didn't know exactly her grandfather's address, but she knew that just writing down the House's name meant something. Her father would often say that House Nightbloom had a sort of status. Hopefully, it was status enough to bring her letter to grandpa.

And so, only after three days she had sent her letter and had buried her parents, an answer from Sir Nightbloom himself arrived and he was taking her under his care.

Luxia left Riverbend that same night, taken by her grandfather's maid.

___________________

Tagging: @hellomynameisdevi @thequeenchoices @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl @soft-for-drake @ohsnapitzlovehacker @melodyofgraves @sitsoncornflake @keviriass @lady-kaya-duskraven @tealtranquiltatter @vanillamaa @my-remedy-is-euphoria @choicesloversstuff @tyrils-star @lxdy-starfury @caaliyahxx @choicesarehard @fireycookie @sophie-summer @dalishessence @choicesficwriterscreations (and if you’d like to be tagged, just tell me 🙂)

#tyril starfury #tyril x mc #tyril starfury x mc #blades of light and shadow #playchoices #choices stories you play #playchoices fanfic #playchoices fanfiction #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #undermount the series #luxia nightbloom #tyril x luxia

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pynches · 5 years ago

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How to Seduce Ronan Lynch

a/n just a small idea that turned into a 3.7K fic... idk what happened either but ronan’s handkink is very apparent here so i’m not mad about it! thank you so much @hayleybot for beta-ing this fic for me and the little encouraging notes that made me feel a lot better about what i’ve written!

Adam should have seen it coming.

It felt inevitable now with the empty page in front of him, “How to Seduce Ronan Lynch” written at the top, but Adam, honestly, never thought he would fall for him. He figured that, after Blue, he would focus on school and fulfilling his life-long dream of getting out of Henrietta, but here he was, trying to come up with ways to make Ronan confess his feelings for him, if he had them that was.

He knew Ronan looked at him sometimes, always looking away when Adam gathered his courage to look back, but that didn’t mean he was actually attracted to him. Adam Parrish only dealt in certainties and Ronan Lynch wasn’t one. He couldn’t afford taking this risk and telling Ronan how he felt. Feelings were more Ronan’s forte even though he repressed them almost as much as Adam did. No, he couldn’t tell him, but he could try to push Ronan far enough to admit his possible feelings to which Adam could confess his own. It was foolproof, perfect, if only he could come up with seduction methods.

Adam gripped his pen a little tighter and tapped it against his lip, his mind working into overdrive. Maybe he was going about this wrong… Instead of focusing on how to seduce Ronan, maybe he had to tap into his core. His deepest desires. You would think Adam knew Ronan enough by now to know what those were, but he didn’t. Ronan was as much a mystery to him as Adam was to others.

He wished karma didn’t work as well as it did.

He could start simple, though. Maybe simple was enough. Maybe, trying to write down the entirety of Ronan onto a single paper was too ambitious, and he could start with the basics.

What did he know about Ronan Lynch?

1. Ronan likes the smell of gasoline.

Ronan’s car breaking down was bound to happen someday. Lucky enough for Adam, that day was sooner than later. He had set his sight on just fixing a car in Ronan’s presence, hoping it would awaken something in him, but the fact that it was his car he was fixing made it even better.

“How did you even manage to fuck up the motor this much?” Adam asked, staring at the mess that was the inside of Ronan’s dreamt up BMW. His father obviously knew nothing about cars, Adam couldn’t even find the brake fluid reservoir.

Ronan shrugged, watching him from the roll chair in the corner. “I was driving, and it started smoking.”

“Driving or racing?” Adam asked, a smirk pulling on his lips.

“Driving, you shit,” Ronan replied with a roll of his eyes though he didn’t sound angry. He hadn’t sounded angry in a while now that Adam thought about it.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Adam said, wiping his oil covered hands on a piece of cloth that he slung over his shoulder before he bent over the hood of the car again in a more exaggerated way than necessary. He had to force his features to remain neutral when he felt Ronan’s eyes follow the lines of his body.

He worked slower than was strictly necessary, liking how it felt when Ronan watched his every move. Adam decided to take it one step further and unzipped his coveralls a little, shrugging out of the sleeves before tying them round his waist, the white, tight t-shirt he wore sticking to his upper body with sweat. It was a little too small so his hip bones were on display. He knew Ronan was trying his hardest not to look.

Ronan still remained seated on the other end of the garage, only looking, never speaking up.

Adam sighed and with one more turn of the wrench he was done. He came to a standstill in front of Ronan, a little closer than he had to be, who kept his eyes on Adam’s face, never straying.

“I’m done, wanna test it out?” Adam asked, waiting for Ronan to nod and follow him to the BMW. “Start it for me?”

Ronan looked relieved but not surprised when the car started, sounding better than ever. “What do I owe you?” he asked, the only hint that he had been affected at all was the rough edge to his voice.

“Nothing,” Adam said with a half-smile. “It’s on the house.”

“Let me at least drive you home?” Ronan asked. Adam intended to decline, would have done so before he knew he liked Ronan’s company a bit too much for it being just platonic. He nodded instead. Even if Ronan wouldn’t speak up today, he could spend some precious hours in his company.

Ronan returned to his seat in the corner and watched Adam work, looking away every time Adam happened to look his way. It was the months old game they had been playing, forever captured in the feeling of longing and despair, waiting for the other to make the move. Adam was determined not to be the one to do it, and Ronan was too scared he was wrong to lay his own cards bare.

The car ride to St. Agnes church was loaded and silent, neither of them ready to speak up and break the palpable tension. Ronan took his place next to Adam’s bed as Adam worked on his homework for a few more hours before getting his much needed sleep; the next part of his plan culminating in his head as he drifted off.

2. Ronan likes cars a little too much (his own car in particular)

Adam closed his eyes against the burning sun, waiting for Ronan to finally finish with tennis practice and take him home. He had accepted Ronan’s ride to school in the morning, casually “forgetting” that Ronan had tennis practice that afternoon so he could work out his plan which involved him lying down on the hood of Ronan’s car, his shirt rucked up a little to reveal half of his stomach.

He knew it was a pretty cheap display but if it worked, it worked.

“I will rip your head off if there is a scratch on her,” Adam heard from beside him. He opened his eyes slowly, his eyelashes fluttering against the blinding light of the sun.

“No, you won’t,” Adam said with a shit-eating grin and sat up a little, leaning back on his forearms, squinting up at Ronan, knowing the sun had brought out the small freckles that littered his face. Ronan looked good, a little too good for Adam to handle. It was supposed to be him that seduced Ronan but it was starting to feel like Ronan was turning things around without knowing. He was still dressed in his tennis uniform that clung to his body sinfully, and it took Adam everything to not throw the whole plan away and speak up.

Ronan rolled his eyes but didn’t disagree just as Adam knew he wouldn’t. “I’m leaving, with you still on the hood or not.”

Adam laughed and stretched his arms above his head languidly. He could feel Ronan’s eyes zoom in on his flat stomach, undoubtedly tracing the pale scar that travelled beneath the waistband of his pants.

He slid himself off the car and looked up at Ronan who didn’t seem like he could look away, his eyes flickering from Adam’s to his freckles, following the line of his throat down to where Adam had loosened his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt slightly. Adam swallowed and Ronan copied him unconsciously. “I thought you were leaving?” Adam asked, his tone light and teasing.

“I am,” Ronan said but made no move to actually get into his car and drive off. Adam daringly took a step forward, peering up at Ronan from underneath his eyelashes, a smirk pulling on his lips.

“Then what are you waiting for?” he asked, his voice purposefully low.

Ronan swallowed again and shook his head a little, taking himself out of his daze. “Nothing.”

He stepped away from Adam, leaving him standing with his mouth slightly agape, the moment broken. Adam felt the disappointment settle into every fibre of his being. Taking the hint, he got into Ronan’s car and didn’t say anything, letting him drive them to Nino’s, hoping some cheap pizza would at least get his mind off of this.

3. Ronan likes to be touched, even if he pretends he doesn’t.

Adam slid into the booth at Nino’s, actually trying to keep his distance from Ronan after the rejection from earlier, but Ronan was obviously not following the script and leaned in close, his thigh nearly touching Adam’s.

Two could play that game.

Adam let his leg fall and rest against Ronan’s, watching as Ronan dropped the menu, his cheeks flushed. He wasn’t sure if he was blushing because of Adam or because he dropped the menu, but he counted it as a win anyways.

“What are you ordering?” he asked, leaning in close to Ronan’s face so he could look at the menu even though he already knew exactly what he was going to order.

Ronan wordlessly pointed to something on the menu, and Adam silently cheered about the fact that he managed to get Ronan Lynch of all people speechless.

“I was thinking this one,” he whispered, gently taking Ronan’s hand in his own and shifting it so his finger pointed at something else.

Ronan cleared his throat and nodded. “You always get that.”

“You noticed.”

Ronan looked like he was going to say something but he was interrupted when a waiter came to take their orders. Adam shuffled back in his seat, annoyed with the interruption but always polite as he explained what he wanted. He kept his leg pressed against Ronan’s, and he didn’t move away which was a step in the right direction for sure.

He zoned out Gansey’s chattering about whatever he found that was somehow relevant to their quest and focused on Ronan and the new plan forming in his mind instead.

He placed his drink only a few inches from Ronan’s and waited until Ronan was about to take a sip to move forward as well, his hand brushing Ronan’s just like he had planned.

What he hadn’t planned was Ronan dropping his drink in shock spilling it all over the table and himself. “Shit!” he exclaimed, jumping back in his seat with a dismayed look on his face. Adam bit his lip and wordlessly handed him some napkins helping him to clean up the mess.

“Are you okay?” he asked, placing a tentative hand on Ronan’s thigh as he wiped some soda from his shirt. Ronan’s leg was warm under his palm but he didn’t want to overdo it so he let go and sat back again, avoiding the curious stares of the others.

4. Ronan likes guys???

Sunday came slower than usual.

Normally, Adam always thought the week was flying by too fast, time being his worst enemy with the amount of things he had to do in a day. Now, however, it seemed like the week lasted forever, filled with boring classes and jobs he didn’t even like doing.

But then it was Sunday, and time to initiate step four.

He knew Ronan would come up every Sunday after mass, it was a tradition between the two of them Adam wasn’t even sure the others knew about. They didn’t do much else than talk a little while Adam worked on his homework, and Ronan dreamed or listened to his god awful music Adam had come to appreciate.

This time however, Adam pretended that he had slept in, which was not common, but it wasn’t entirely unlikely either. He didn’t have work today for once, and he did try to get a few more precious hours of sleep every once in a while to fuel him.

Adam smiled when he heard the telltale knock of Ronan’s fist on the door and turned to check his reflection. Slightly mussed hair, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, no shirt in sight. It was perfect.

Ronan knocked again and Adam rolled his eyes. “I’m coming, chill!” he said before opening the door, taking in Ronan’s appearance with his mouth slightly agape.

He thought he would be the one seducing Ronan, but it looked like it was the other way around.

He was wearing a suit as usual but his buttons had been undone a bit further than usual, his tie hanging loose around his neck while the edges of his tattoo peeking out from his collar. His suit jacket was slung over his arm, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up so it revealed his forearms, his skin silky and pale, soft enough to touch if Adam dared.

“Hi,” he said, his brain functioning just enough to let Ronan through.

“You okay, Parrish?” Ronan asked, and Adam swore he could see a glint of something in his eyes, but he was too enthralled by him to really think about it too much.

“Perfect,” he said and sat down in front of his makeshift desk, reopening his laptop. He had been too caught up in watching Ronan that he hadn’t noticed Ronan had been looking back, trailing his eyes down the wide expanse of Adam’s chest, following the freckles dusting his skin down to his stomach.

Ronan was still watching him sometimes, glancing his way every now and then. Adam could feel his eyes burning into his skin.

He felt rather hopeless. Ronan was still just looking instead of actually doing something about the tension between them in the exact same way he had before Adam had even come up with this plan.

Instead of focussing on Ronan, this time he turned his attention to his homework, hoping that school was at least one thing he wouldn’t fail.

5. Ronan probably definitely has a hand kink.

“You look like you’re in pain,” Adam said, watching as Ronan tried to get comfortable on his hard wooden floor.

“No shit, Parrish,” Ronan grumbled and shifted his weight again. “This floor is not exactly soft.”

“You’re looking more uncomfortable than usual,” Adam replied, abandoning his open text book to crouch down next to Ronan. “You okay?”

“Must’ve pulled something,” Ronan finally said with a sigh, unconsciously rubbing his back a little. “It’s fine, just do your homework.”

A brilliant plan started to form in Adam’s mind.

“I could give you a massage,” he said innocently, rubbing his hands a little. “I’m stronger than I look.”

Ronan’s eyes flickered from Adan’s hands to his face and back, swallowing hard before he spoke. “Why?”

“Because you’re in pain,” Adam said simply and motioned towards his bed. “You can just lie down and let me help you or you can be in pain for the next couple of hours.”

Ronan thought for a few moments longer while Adam waited in anticipation. “Fine,” he said and moved to lie on Adam’s bed.

“This would be more effective with your shirt off, you know,” Adam said smugly and moved to sit down next to him.

Ronan leaned up with a grimace and unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it off before lying back down.

Adam watched the muscles shift underneath his tattoo, staring in wonder at the black lines swirling around his back, the image seemingly changing every time he blinked.

He put a tentative hand on Ronan’s skin, relishing in the shiver Ronan let out before letting his other hand join, moving slowly up to his shoulders to rub the muscles there

He kept his hands light and gentle until he heard: “I’m not going to break,” and pushed harder, earning himself a small sound from Ronan. Adam balanced himself by leaning on Ronan’s back a little and swung his leg over Ronan’s hips, hovering above him. He leaned down so his mouth was right next to Ronan’s ear.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly. Ronan made a strangled sound and nodded his head, Adam could only smile and move back a little, letting his hands dance across Ronan’s back.

They stayed like that for a while, Adam rubbing Ronan’s sore muscles while Ronan shifted underneath him, sometimes letting out a sigh, even more rarely did he make a sound, but they were etched into Adam’s brain all the same.

Adam kept going until his hands were sore and kept going a little longer after that, not wanting to take his hands off of Ronan’s skin now that he had the chance. But his hands were starting to cramp up, and Ronan could feel that he wasn’t putting as much force into it as he did before.

“I think my back’s okay now,” Ronan mumbled and Adam got off his back after a moment of hesitation wherein he thought about kissing the centre of Ronan’s tattoo but refrained, knowing it would be a step too far.

Ronan rolled his shoulders and gave Adam one of his rare smiles, one that said thank you without Ronan having to say it out loud.

And that was it.

+1 step that wasn’t planned and oh my god why did Ronan choose this moment to confess his love what the actual fuck?

Or, so, Adam thought.

He quickly put a shirt on and drifted towards the bathroom, getting ready for bed. He cursed himself as he brushed his teeth for thinking that these stupid steps of trying to seduce Ronan were going to help at all. He probably made a fool out of himself more than anything.

Maybe Ronan didn’t even like him as much as Adam initially thought he did. It had never been a certainty, but something in the way Ronan looked at him or did things for him without taking credit for it made Adam believe there was more to them than just the friendship they had carefully crafted together. It was his apartment, after all, that Ronan seemed to be drawn to every night, though he was now questioning if it was because of him or because it was away from Gansey who Ronan didn’t want to harm.

Dejectedly, he stepped out of the bathroom and turned off the lights, letting the pale shine of the moon guide his steps forward, expertly avoiding the hanging nails in the floorboards.

Ronan had already turned his jacket into a makeshift pillow, his headphones on, though the music was turned down a little for Adam’s benefit, something Ronan would never admit.

“Goodnight,” Adam said quietly and climbed into bed, pulling his threadbare blanket around him tightly, hiding half of his face behind the fabric.

Ronan nodded at him and Adam closed his eyes but sleep didn’t come to him.

He could hear Ronan take his headphones off and place them next to him, rearranging his sleeping position with a soft groan.

Minutes ticked by, and Adam was still very much awake.

“Can you lie still?” He could hear from below him. Adam rolled his eyes and bent over so he could look at Ronan’s face.

“If it bothers you so much, go sleep somewhere else.”

Ronan grumbled and sat up. “Want me gone, Parrish?” he asked but Adam could see he wasn’t serious.

“Nah, if people break in, they will go for you first. I’m using you as my personal shield.”

Ronan huffed out a laugh. “Nobody would break into this shithole.”

“You’ve got a point,” Adam said and smiled, openly and freely, a present given to Ronan for sticking with him throughout this entire ordeal and beyond.

Ronan looked at him and Adam looked back, and Ronan didn’t look away.

The air between them suddenly felt loaded, filled with the months of yearning they had both been through, the tension that had built between them these past few days.

Ronan leaned in.

“Seriously, now?!” Adam exclaimed indignantly, unable to stop himself. He immediately regretted it when Ronan pulled away again, his eyes hard but his true feeling of embarrassment betrayed by the blush dusting his cheeks.

“A simple ‘no’ would have done,” Ronan said, his tone icy as he pulled away, snatching up his jacket in the process.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Adam scrambled to say, his hand wrapping around Ronan’s forearm. Ronan could rip his arm away easily if he wanted to but he didn’t. He stood frozen next to Adam’s bed, looking at him expectantly. “It’s just… These past few days I tried to… seduce you, and you didn’t react at all but you want to kiss me now?”

“You wanted to seduce me?” Ronan asked before laughing loudly, clutching his stomach a little as he sunk down next to Adam.

“Starting to regret that now,” Adam said, his lips pulling into a bit of a pout. He had half a mind to get up, run out of the door and catch the next plane to whatever country was available so he didn’t have to deal with the fallout of the mess he had created.

“Don’t be like that,” Ronan said and it sounded light and teasing rather than angry or disgusted like Adam had expected. He turned to Ronan and could see the hope in his eyes, the glee that had softened the edges a little.

This time when Ronan leaned in, Adam wisely kept his mouth shut besides opening it to welcome Ronan’s tongue into his mouth moments later when he was pushed against the bed, Ronan hovering over him with red, glistening lips that was all Adam’s doing.

“You could’ve just said something,” Ronan said but they both knew Adam couldn’t have. There had been too many risks, too many possibilities for failure.

“Didn’t have to apparently,” Adam shrugged and pulled Ronan down again for a kiss, the taste of him on his tongue addicting. “The plan worked.”

“The plan didn’t do shit, I thought you were messing with me half the time,” Ronan laughed but it wasn’t unkindly.

“But it led you to kissing me,” Adam said stubbornly. “It was a well thought out and perfectly executed plan.”

Ronan shook his head with a laugh and kissed him again and again until Adam was breathless, and his plan was the last thing on his mind.

#trc #the raven cycle #pynch #pynch fic #pynch fanfic #pynch fanfiction #trc fic #trc fanfic #trc fanfiction #the raven cycle fic #the raven cycle fanfic #the raven cycle fanfiction #adam x ronan #ronan x adam #adam parrish #ronan lynch

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princessjungeun · 5 years ago

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Half and Half: Lia x Reader

where the reader is a troublemaker at school and Lia is the class nerd and she tries to help the reader graduate by tutoring her and then they catch feelings... I rly need some fluff in my life rn 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

CW: violence

When Lia agreed to tutor a student who needed help to pass the class she didn’t know it’d be you. You were known as the bitch not to be messed with. You admit you had a short fuse when it came to your anger but you fixed it earlier this year. However that doesn’t dismiss the fact that you’ve gotten into countless fights over the past 4 years you’ve been in high school.

There was the time that one kid insulted Ryujin, you broke his nose, jaw, busted his lip, and gave him a concussion. That time that one girl called Yuna ugly, you broke three of her ribs. The time someone made fun of your family, you’re not even sure what happened to them, you don’t know if they ever left the hospital. And of course the time someone tried to ask you on a date as a dare, he got a black eye and a busted lip. All that being said, you were definitely feared by everyone in school.

But despite your bad girl image, you were good in school, you were at the top of your class directly under Lia. However, nobody in the school knew that but you. The biggest issue for you was anatomy, it was the one subject you were bad at. It was all memorization which you were good at, but something about the muscles and tendons and all that, it was too much. This being said you started failing slowly, your grade slowly dropping as the year went on. But now it’s March and to graduate you need an 80, your grade is a 54%. Your teacher knew you’d be able to fix it with a little hard work and determination so she set you up to meet with Lia everyday for the rest of the year. That leads you up to now, the first day you have to meet with Lia.

You walked into the library and saw Lia sitting alone, smiling as she looked out one of the windows. Your gaze followed hers and all she was watching was the clouds. You swore you could see her lips moving as if she was talk, but upon a broaching her you realized she was singing softly. You brushed it off and decided to just bite the bullet and get this over with.

“Choi.” You stood behind her and loudly called her name. She jumped in her seat before turning around “o-oh hi Y/N...I’m tutoring you?” You nodded and sat down next to her, it was very clear that she was scared out of her mind. You found it kind of cute.

“Ok um. Let’s get started then...anatomy. Uh wh-what’s it you aren’t understanding? I mean not that you aren’t understanding. I bet you do understand. You probably understand a lot of things! You-” You cut off her nervous rambling. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.” Those few words were the only thing she needed to hear to relax and talk normally.

Throughout the next few weeks you met up with her everyday. You slowly started to catch feelings for Lia and she definitely did too. She’d grab your hand over the table when you two were studying, you’d pretend not to notice. You would just stare at her admiring her beauty while she was asking you a question. She’d laugh at your blushing face when you came back to your senses, mumbling a “you’re so cute” under her breath too.

You liked being around Lia. She was truly an amazing tutor, she knew how to motivate you to do better. You could see her excitement when you got a question right and how much she wanted to help you when you got one wrong. She spent her own free time color coding diagrams and making flash cards just for you.

“That’s not fair! When she tutored me she made me write and color everything. What do you have that I don’t?” Yuna whines as she watched you flip through pages of worksheets Lia made for you. You smiled to yourself knowing she was doing this because she liked you.

Your younger friend whines about how unfair it was. See, Yuna was tutored by Lia for a math class as well as biology. You laughed “stop whining. Go bother Ryu, i’m busy, I have my final tomorrow.” The younger girl sighed and left you alone in the study room, running off to find her other best friend.

The bell rang and you went to your locker, a small note fell out reading:

You’ll do great, make me proud

- Lia ☀️

You smiled and tucked the post it note into your pocket.

When you took your exam it was a lot easier then you thought it’d be. You finished second to last but that was because you went over your answers at least fourteen times before turning it in. “I’ll be handing these back on your way out, for the remaining hour please work on something else quietly.” Your teacher collected the papers and got to grading them.

That was probably the best thing about being in a small class. There only being 14 kids in class with you, your tests, quizzes, and exams were always graded quickly. To pass the time you pulled out your phone, knowing your teacher wouldn’t care, after all everyone feared you.

On the way out you got your paper, nervously you flipped it over and saw you earned a 97% on it. You smiled knowing that this was the last thing you needed to get an A on to pass the class for the semester.

You walked out of the room to go find Lia in the library. After circling around the library and all the study rooms you didn’t see her. That was unusual, she was always here. She practically lived in the library. On your way out you noticed her backpack hanging on the back of a chair and her laptop on a table, but that was it. You felt a pit form in your stomach...something wasn’t right here.

You snatched her belongings up and sprinted out the doors to go find her. You ran into Yuna and Ryujin in the hallways and asked “where’s Lia?” Ryujin shrugged and Yuna responded “I think she’s in the back hallway? I heard some boy earlier saying he was gonna ask her out.” You asked “who? what boy?” Yuna replied “i don’t know he was a little taller than me, pretty muscular, he looked like a player though.”

Your eyes widened as you realized she as with the schools known player. He was the kind of guy to ask a girl on a date and not take no for an answer. He’d cheated on a fair share of girls from other schools as well. Just an all around piece of garbage.

You reached the back hallways and there they were. You watched from a distance and did your best to listen in. Lia was trying her best to politely decline his offer but he wasn’t letting up. She’d managed to stay steps ahead of him as she walked towards the exit which would get her to a more populated area. Just as she was about to walk away for good he grabbed her shoulder forcefully to turn her around. You heard her whimper and you saw her eyes covered in fear.

Without hesitation you grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him. He pushed Lia away so he could focus on you, and Lia fell to the ground with a thud. You heard her soft sobs, an unfamiliar anger courses through your veins. You felt your mind go completely blank, your only thought was “i’m about to beat the life out of him” .

You threw a punch and your hand collided with his jaw making him take a few steps back. You shoved him in the chest and he fell to the ground before holding him up by the shoulder and throwing a few more punches, adding a slap or two just because. Your eyes filled of fire, you only felt yourself getting angrier, stronger with every punch.

You weren’t showing signs of stopping anytime soon, adrenaline flowing through your veins. As you were about to deliver another punch you felt someone grab your hand. You saw Ryujin standing over you “stop. You’ve done enough. Take her and go, I’ll take care of him.” You grabbed him by the collar and said what you thought was only loud enough for the two of you “I swear to God if you ever think about laying your nasty hands on or near my girl again, I won’t stop. There won’t be anyone to hold me back. And i’ll make sure of it.” You let him go, letting him fall back into the lockers behind him.

You stood up and walked over to where Lia was, still laying on the ground. Making sure you had her backpack as well as yours before you scooped her up in your arms. She whimpered softly “Y/N?” Tears were still on her cheeks, her eyes puffy. You shushed her “shhh just close your eyes it’s fine. I’m here you’re ok.” You carried her in your arms all the way home, internally thanking your older brother and dad for making you take boxing and weightlifting classes with them.

When you got home you kicked the door open and laid Lia on your sofa. You left her to rest for a minute and you went to check if you got any part of your face scatched up. Luckily only your lip was bleeding which wasn’t something to worry about.

You went back to see Lia, her eyes fluttered open and she seemed more aware than before. She asked “wha-where am i?” You responded “you were in and out. I brought you home...well my home.” You told her “you have a cut on your forehead, let me fix it.” She grabbed a hold of your hand, which made your heart beat faster.

“Here” You lifted her onto the counter so she was at level with you. You grabbed a cotton ball and doused it in hydrogen peroxide and said “it’s gonna sting.” The second you placed it on her forehead she squeezed her eyes shut, a few tears leaking out as her one hand squeezed yours. You patted it dry with a cloth before putting a hot pink bandaid over the cut.

You pressed it on and smoothed your thumb over it gently. Before this moment you never really took a good look at Lia’s face. Sure you knew she was beautiful but this... she was more than that. Lia’s eyes scanned your face as well until the two of you met eyes. Slowly you felt her legs wrap around your waist and her arm rested on your shoulder. Bringing your thumb up you wiped away one of her tears and said “pretty girls like you shouldn’t cry.”

She asked “earlier...you said i’m your girl?” You replied “not unless you want to be.” She smiled softly before leaning in slowly. You followed her lead before your lips touched softly. Your hand cupped her cheek and you held her fsce as if it was the most precious and valuable thing you’d ever had.

When you two pulled away she shyly smiled before saying “yeah, i do. I want that a lot actually.” You pulled her into your embrace, she kept her head in the crook of your neck. Her breath steadily hitting your skin.

She told you “thank you...i don’t know what i’d do without you.” You pulled her away and told her “thank you too...i got a 97 on my final, I don’t know what I’d do without you too.” Her eyes lit up and she kissed you “i’m so proud of you. Really it was all you.” You laughed, holding her close once again “it was half and half.” Holding her head close to you, you kissed the side of her head and stroked her hair softly feeling her relax against you. “Fine. Half and half.” She giggles against you, pressing soft kisses against your neck as you held her in your embrace.

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #itzy imagines #itzy scenarios #itzy fluff #choi jisu #choi lia #itzy lia

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castielismyfavouriteangel · 5 years ago

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Jealous

Thanks to @bend-me-shape-me @helianthus21 and @pray4jensen for creating this challenge! Word count ~1.6k mostly fluff and two dumbfounded idiots. Read here on AO3.

“Seriously, Agent. This is the weirdest death I have ever seen, and I have seen a few,” the young coroner told Dean.

“No one in Med School prepared you for a completely sucked dry brain. Not even in the worst death by dehydration cases I have seen something like this. Have you seen this kind of injury before?” she asked while touching Dean’s forearm.

He shortly looked down on her hand on his arm and smiled at her warmly.

“Actually I have. It’s a nasty business.” he said truthfully.

“So what caused it? I really don’t know what to put into my report.”

“Cranial stab wound sounds the most fitting. The missing fluid in the brain isn’t related to the cause of death.” Dean said with his most charming smile, trying to distract the coroner from the clearly supernatural death on her table. Dean took out one of his business cards, made sure it’s the right one and handed it to the - objectively - pretty coroner and said: “If there’s anything else you feel noteworthy, just give me a call”

He winked at her, then turned around, nodded his head in the direction of the door to Cas and absolutely missed the gloomy look on the latter’s face.

“Well, looks like we got a Wraith on our hands.” Dean stated the obvious and lightly slapped Cas thigh as he sat besides him in Baby. Cas growled in return.

“Whoa, Buddy, what’s going on? I thought you wanted a little more action? A Wraith hunt should be just the thing, shouldn’t it?”

Cas only gave him a stinky side eye and a mumbled “Action, yeah” before hiding behind the small screen of his mobile phone.

Dean shrugged and concentrated on the road in front of him.

Back at their hotel room Dean sat down at his laptop and started researching. He knew they were looking for a place where it was easy to find people with a high dopamine level. So happy people. Since there were no asylums around, there had to be something else. A brothel? There had to be dopamine there. And the only victim so far was a young, single male, so brothel could be a possibility.

“Hey, Cas. You think a brothel could be the Wraith’s hunting ground? Lot’s of dopamine and probably lonely people without someone to miss them.”

He could see Cas lips moving, but he couldn’t hear anything of the muttering coming from them.

“Cas, what’s up?” Dean stood up and walked over the sofa where Cas was sitting, stood behind him and rubbed his shoulders. Cas rolled them back to get rid of Dean’s hands who just shrugged, walked around the armrest and let himself fall besides Cas on the sofa, a little closer than necessary.

There was a bit more mumbling before Cas said actually audible words.

“A brothel? That’s all you can come up with? A brothel? I bet you can’t wait to start researching there.”

Cas turned to his phone screen again and started tapping on it excessively. Dean took the hint and stood up again, walking back to his research table.

“If you don’t like my brothel idea, why don’t you give a hint on where to look for the Wraith?”

There was more inaudible mumbling before a faint “I don’t know where” came from the direction of the couch.

“Then what’s your problem with the brothel?” Dean asked, curious.

“I don’t have one.” Cas replied, audibly upset.

“Cas, seriously, what’s wrong with you? You’ve been acting weird since we left the coroner.” and in just that moment Dean’s FBI-phone rang - it was the coroner.

“Agent Coulson! I’m glad I caught you.”

“Dr. Shepard, what a pleasure. Did you notice anything else on the body? Or what do I owe the honor?”

There was a loud cracking sound and a growl coming from the sofa and a few moments later the motel door fell loudly into its latch.

“I’m sorry, I got distracted, what did you say?” Dean asked the coroner.

“I said I didn’t call because of the body, but because I wanted to ask if you’d like to grab a drink together? I’ll be off in 30 minutes.”

Dean stopped short. What?

“I’m flattered, Doctor, but..”

“Please, call me Angela”

“Doctor Shepard, I’m sorry, but I have to decline. I’m already spoken for.” There was a gasp coming from the door which Dean didn’t hear opening.

“Good night, Doctor Shepard,” Dean said and ended the phone call without even waiting for a reply.

“You’re already spoken for? What’s that supposed to mean?” Cas asked, furious. He had his head tilted a little, which was usually a cute view, but right now Dean was afraid of his opposite.

“Cas, it was just a way to get rid of her, I didn’t mean it seriously.” Dean approached Cas very slowly and with raised hands.

“And why would you wanna get rid of her? You were obviously flirting with her earlier. Over a dead body no less.” Cas still seemed to be quite enraged.

“Cas, you know my MO, I was just trying to distract her from the fact that a monster had killed the man on her table. It didn’t mean anything, at least not for me.”

One step in front of the other. Cas looked like he wanted to retreat, but he stayed put.

“That’s not nice of you. Leading them on like that. But why didn’t you mean it seriously? It’s not like you to send away such a pretty girl.” ‘“Maybe she just wasn’t what I want right now.” “Is that why you’re so eager to start researching the brothel? A larger variety of women?” Cas looked like he was short of steam coming from his ears.

“Cas, Buddy, calm down.” Oh no. Wrong choice of words. Now Cas was straight up exploding.

“Calm down? How am I supposed to calm down? On every hunt you end up in someone else’s bed. I’m sick of it. Can’t we just for once work together like actual partners?” Cas stormed into the bathroom. Which was weird, since he doesn’t have to go as an angel.

Now that Dean thought about it - Cas’ strange behaviour started when he fake-flirted with the coroner. Which was weird, why should his flirting bother Cas?

But then he thought back a little further. Cas seemed different the past few weeks. More - affectionate. In his own, dorky way at least. A lingering hand here, a long, genuine smile there. Dean never really noticed that because he didn’t even pay a lot of attention to Cas. Big mistake apparently.

Was Cas jealous?

Nah, that’s impossible. Why would he be jealous?

Or...could it be Cas wanted more than they had for the past few years. More than the profound bond he once talked about? There was only one solution to this mystery - Dean had to talk to Cas. Who just stepped out of the bathroom, maybe a little less furious than before.

“Cas? Can we talk?” Dean gave Cas his brightest and most genuine smile. Maybe it helped calming Cas a little further.

“What is there to talk about, Dean?” Apparently it didn’t calm him down. Dean put his arm around Cas’ shoulders and led him to the sofa, where they both sat down, closely besides each other.

“Cas, what’s going on? You’re acting - weird, since we were at the coroner’s office. Did my distraction method bother you that much? If so - why?”

Dean still had his arm firmly around Cas’ shoulders, so he felt the deep breaths the man besides him took. Then he slumped down.

“I - I can’t do this anymore, Dean.” “Can’t do what? Cas, please, talk to me, I’m worried, man.”

“I can’t keep watching you flirt and sleep around.”

“Cas. Is there something else you rather meant to tell me? Maybe - the reason for this?” Cas got angry again and shook off Dean’s arm.

“What? What do you wanna hear, Dean? That I’m choking on my own jealousy? That it’s breaking my heart over and over again when you don’t come back to the motel until the next morning? That all I want is being the person you spend the night with? Now you know, Dean. Now you know why this will be our last hunt together.”

Cas got up again and started pacing.

“Cas, please. Sit down. You didn’t even let me say anything. Com’ere.” he patted the empty space besides him on the sofa and Cas reluctantly sat down, immediately followed by a tight hug from Dean.

“You’re an idiot, Cas.”

“And why exactly am I the idiot now?” his voice was hushed by the still ongoing hug, but Dean heard him.

“Because -” Dean pulled away and gripped both of Cas’ shoulders, “Because I went out and spent the night in someone else’s bed because I couldn’t stand being in the same room with you and not share a bed. And because I was too much of a chickenshit to say something.”

The anger left Cas’ face and was replaced by bewilderment.

“What - what are you saying, Dean?”

“I’m saying, there’s no need for you to be jealous, Cas. Because you are the one I wanna spend the nights with, the one I wanna wake up with, the one I wanna do this to.”

Before his courage left him again, Dean leaned forward and softly pressed his lips against Cas’. It was a short contact, but he hoped it would get his point across.

And considering the look of wonder on Cas’ face, it did.

#SPNStayAtHome #Monday 6: Jealous #fluff #mostly at least #first kiss #jealous Cas #Cas has enough #idiots #all of them #destiel #my writing

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tsc-updates · 5 years ago

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Modern TID - Part 14

Part 13 - Part 15

The little café the boys had chosen was full. It was a small establishment, and if you weren’t looking for it, you’d probably miss it. Due to the overflowinf of people, Tessa had asked if they should go somewhere else. But the boys had declined. Jem insisted that they had the best pastries in this side of London, and Will kept rambling on about their coffee.

They sat in a little table by the back corner, Tessa and Jem seated on the long comfy seat covered in pillows, and Will in front of them on a folding chair. Though the breakfast was initially intended for Tessa and Jem to get to know each other better, the boys ended up doing most of the talking. They told her several stories from the time they met when they were twelve all the way till now.

More precisely, Will told a story, and then Jem retold it more accurately.

“And that’s the story of how i was a real-life Tarzan by swiging on a chandelier.” He leaned back, a proud smirk on his lips.

“You mean that’s the story of how you broke Charlotte’s chandelier and almost broke both your legs. Not to mention, nearly died.”

Tessa nearly choked on her coffee. “What?”

Will waved it off. “Minor technicality.”

“I don’t think Charlotte agrees with you on that.” Jem chuckled.

“The point is: I did it, and it was awesome.”

Jem leaned into Tessa. “When the chandelier fell, he screamed in a pitch higher than Jessamine’s.” They both started laughing.

“Why must you always tell that part?” Will’s cheeks were reddening quickly.

“Because you keep making that face when I tell this part.” Jem’s smile widened. His eyes widened as something swarmed his mind. He turned to Tessa. “Why don’t I don’t tell you about the story of how Will was, allegedly, pushed into a lake by a duck.”

“Hey, that little demon had his eyes on me since the moment I entered the park.” He pointed his finger at Jem, which just set him and Tessa off into laughter again.

“Maybe his duck friends dared him, don’t be so harsh.” Tessa giggled.

“That’s what I said!” Jem exclaimed.

Will squinted his eyes at them. “Is this how it’s gonna be from now on? You two ganging up on me?” He sighed and got up. “If you’re going to tell the duck story, then I’m not going to hang around to hear you stripping the creature off its guilt.” He stood up.

“Where are you going?” Jem asked.

“Wash my hands. Am i allowed, Mother?” He mocked.

Jem observed him for a few seconds. “You’re not gonna pay are you?”

Will shrugged. “The cashier happens to be on the way from the bathroom. I thought I’d make a small detour.”

“I’m the one who invited you.” Jem’s face turned serious in the flash of a second.

“You invited us because i asked you to get to know my girlfriend better. Technicalyy, my responsability.”

“William.”

“James.” Will’s eyes had a sharp look as they spoke with no words. Tessa hadn’t seen Will this serious since she’d met him.

At last, Jem sighed and leaned back. “Fine, but I’m getting the next one.”

“Deal.” Will chirped, returning to his laid-back self.

As he walked away, a silence set between them. Even though it was a comfortable one, it still made Tessa anxious. After a few minutes, Jem cleared his throat. “I need to get the awkward part out of the way.” He straightened up. “Will is the most important person in my life. And he cares about you deeply. He’s serious about your relationship. I don’t want to see him get hurt.”

Tessa looked down at her hands. “I’m serious about this relationship too. And I really like him. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about someone before.” She looked up at him, straight into his eyes. “I promise to never hurt him. Not intentionally. And if I ever accidentally hurt him, I will kick my own ass, so you can keep your title of gentleman.” She smiled at him.

He laughed. “As long as we understand each other.”

“Very much so.” She nodded. “You really love him, don’t you?”

“He’s my...” Jem tilted his head. “’Best friend’ never sounded enough.”

“Brother?”

Jem made a face. “No. We are like family, but ‘brother’ doesn’t feel right.”

“You know...” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

“What is it?”

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “When I was watching you guys earlier this morning, there was this word that I couldn’t get out of my head.” He urged her on with a nod. “Soulmates.” His eyes widened. “I know how it sounds, but what I mean is not exactly what you’re thinking.” She took a deep breath. “After Will and I got considerably close, and I got to know him better, I realized there was a part of him that I wasn’t seeing. I wasn’t meeting half of him.

“And then I met you. And it clicked. You’re the half of Will that was missing. And it’s the same with you. He completes you. It’s like you have fifty per cent your own person, your own uniqueness, and the other fifty is him. And the same with him. You two overlap. You’re half of your own soul and half the other.” Her brow furrowed. “Does that make any sense at all?”

He considered her for a while. Then he gave her the smallest of smiles. “it makes perfect sense. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a more accurate description of how we feel towrads each other. How did you get all this from just three interactions?”

She shrugged. “I’m observant.”

“And it doesn’t bother you? That I’m half of the soul of the boy you’re dating?”

“I’m fine with you being half his soul. As long as i get to be half his heart.”

“Smooth.” He said bemusedly. “If you weren’t dating my... soulmate,” He winked, causing her to giggle. “A line like that would’ve floored me.”

“Oh, really?” She smirked.

“Definitely. I would probably be hitting on you right now.” He leaned his head on the wall behind him.

“Good to know I have options if this goes down the drain.” She laughed, and he followed suit.

Will approached them as they laughed. “Good to see you two getting along. Just don’t get too comfy. I don’t want you stealing another one of my girlfriends.” He pointed the finger at Jem.

Jem gave him a confused look. “What girlfriend did I steal?”

Will’s eyes widened. “Marie? You made out with her during Charlotte’s Christmas party while we were still going out?”

“You guys went on two dates! I’d hardly call that a relationship.” Jem tilted his head. “Not to mention that you told me you weren’t into her.”

“I could’ve been! If only you hadn’t made out with her and cut any chance of me going out with her again.” Will was mocking, it was written in the amusement of his eyes.

Jem read the look on his face as well. “What can I say? I’ve got game.” Will snorted. That made Jem get serious. “I have game.”

“You only have slight game when you’re drunk, and even then it’s painful to watch. It’s specifically painful to watch your horrible tolerance to alcohol.”

Jem gave an exasperated sigh. “That’s not on me. I blame that on my mother’s genetics.”

Will huffed. “We can’t blame parents genetics on everything. Can you imagine if I was like my parents?”

Jem held out his left hand. “Reckless and flirty when drunk.” He held out his right hand. “Loud and dramatic when Welsh.”

Will huffed. “Great. I’m both my parents. Bloody fantastic.”

“You’re Welsh?” Tessa asked.

Jem looked from her to Will and back, a look of complete disbelief in his face. “You didn’t tell her you’re Welsh?”

Will shrugged. “Never came up.”

Jem stood up and stood next to Will. She noted with surprise that Jem was slightly taller than Will. “I’d think someone as...” He took a quick, sly glance at Will’s back ad smirked. “Patriotic, as you would’ve told her immediately.”

Will bit his lip to keep himself from laughing. “We’re not exactly there yet.”

Jem chuckled. “Knowing you, it won’t take you long.” Will gave him a small, mock shove on the shoulder.

Tessa cleared her throat. “At what point do I start understanding these jokes?”

Will gave her his hands and pulled her up to him. “When you’re part of the inner circle.”

“And how does one get a membership card to that?”

Will pretended to be thinking. “Mhmm marry me?”

She inhaled sharply. “Anything else?”

“Marry me?” Jem offered.

She pointed a finger at him. “We’re getting warmer.”

Will kissed her temple. “Funny.” She turned to him and bumped his nose in an Eskimo kiss. He grinned at her and kissed her deeply.

After a few seconds, she heard Jem’s voice. “Wow, that’s a lot of tongue.” They broke the kiss, and both gave him an annoyed look. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I make this uncomfortable?” He said, the sarcasm dripping through every word.

Will threw an arm around Jem’s waist, and another around Tessa’s and pulled them both close. They exited the café like that and walked to the car without disentangling, which got them particular disapproving looks from passer-by’s. But Tessa didn’t care. She felt happy and safe. With every nasty look, she snuggled closer to Will and rested her head on his shoulder, joy flowing through her every nerve.

#modern tid #tessa gray #will herondale #jem carstairs #charlotte branwell #jessamine lovelace #wessa #jessa #heronstairs #herongraystairs #the infernal devices #the shadowhunters chronicles #tid #tsc

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tamakiamajikistentacles · 5 years ago

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Lucky Charms {Eijirou Kirishima}

A/N: So I got this idea earlier this morning for the holiday and wrote it instead of finishing the piece I originally wanted to put out this weekend. I hope you all enjoy because Kirishima as a dad has me weak!

When he was younger, Kirishima was a night owl through and through. Waking up in the morning to attend classes at UA had been a struggle especially before the dorm system was put in place. An earlier time on the train meant an earlier alarm but on campus he had an explosive best friend to quite literally drag him out of bed.

Now two children, a full-time job as a pro hero, a shared agency, and ten years of marriage later, his body took whatever sleep it could get and refused to let him sleep past seven am. Which was fine because it allowed him to get done what he needed before the rest of his family awoke.

It was definitely fine on Mother’s Day because it gave him the time to wake up his two children in preparation for the holiday. Since they had inherited his late-night tendencies and reluctance for mornings, it was often a challenge.

“Chiyo, its time to get up,” he said softly, nudging his daughter’s shoulder lightly. “We’ve got Mother’s Day to celebrate.”

The teenager grumbled, her comforter pulled tight around her curled up form and scrunching up her already rumpled black braid, every minute of her thirteen years evident in the reluctance.

“Don’t make me send your brother in,” he threatened playfully.

“Dad!” she groaned, blinking up at him with her mother’s eyes. Brows furrowed, she rubbed her pajama sleeve across her face before sitting up. “Why can’t we wait another hour?”

He laughed as he walked towards her bedroom door. “We wake mom up with breakfast, she doesn’t come looking for it. You act like you haven’t done this a dozen times before.”

Ignoring her huffs he told her to meet him in the kitchen as he made his way across the hall to his son’s room. Walking into the smaller room, he chuckled at the sight in front of him.

Kazuma was lying on his stomach, his arms and legs star-fished out in all directions. One foot peeked out from beneath his blankets, the blue sock half off and the elastic clinging desperately to his toes. The closer he got, he could also hear the tiny snores escaping his parted lips.

“Wake up, little Riot, its Mother’s Day,” he laughed, grabbing his foot and shaking it.

The boy snuffled and rolled over slightly, blinking up at his father sleepily.

He grinned. “C’mon, we gotta meet your sister in the kitchen to get started!”

“Oh, okay,” he mumbled as he tossed his comforter aside. Just like his sister, his dark hair stuck up in all directions, though the shorter length made him look more like a black-haired version of his favorite uncle.

The Kirishima boys made their way down to the kitchen where Chiyo was waiting for them on one of the breakfast stools, her thumbs flying across her phone’s screen. Her braid had been taken out and her hair laid in wild waves against her shoulders.

“Alright,” Kirishima started as Kazuma took the seat next to his sister, “I’m gonna start on your mom’s breakfast and you two can go get your gifts from the closet, make sure everything’s ready.”

Chiyo set her phone down and gestured back towards their living area. “I grabbed our gifts and everything looks good. We both signed the card last night. The flower and card from you are with the gifts on the kotatsu.”

“Thanks baby girl,” he smiled. “Then let me get her breakfast ready and we can get this show on the road!”

Kazuma giggled. “Dad, you’re just making cereal!”

“Yeah, but that’s Mother’s Day breakfast!” he replied as he pulled a bowl down from the cupboard. He declined to add that breakfast also included coffee, but that wasn’t always the case. “Chiyo, can you grab the milk please?”

She nodded, moving towards the fridge. “He’s right, though, dad. We don’t do much for Mother’s Day breakfast. The Bakubabies were telling us that Uncle Katsuki wakes up super early and makes a big American breakfast for Auntie, then wakes them up to help carry it and give gifts.”

He grabbed the milk from her, dousing the poured cereal as he chuckled lightly to himself. Bakugo should never have made such a big deal about the little nickname for his children.

“Its just sort of tradition,” he said easily, pouring the coffee into a large Red Riot mug from his first official merch line.

“How did it start?” Kazuma asked curiously, kicking his legs absently.

Kirishima paused as he finished putting the coffee and cereal onto the serving tray. He often thought about the first Mother’s Day they had celebrated after Chiyo was born, especially when the holiday approached, but he didn’t think he’d ever really discussed it with his children.

“Well, your mom and I had been dating in high school and after graduation we moved in together. I was just starting out as a hero, doing sidekick work at Fatgum’s agency with Suneater, and your mom had taken a position at Ryukyu’s agency for management. Chiyo was born about a year after we graduated, and even though we both worked fulltime up until then and even after, money was tight,” he admitted.

He didn’t find it shameful that they had struggled when they were just starting out or that having a baby young had been difficult, but he often worried that his children’s confidence in him would wane if he showed too much of the hardship. Old insecurities always died hard.

“The very first Mother’s Day we celebrated, I… I couldn’t afford much,” he murmured. “I got her a card and a pink carnation, but when I went to make her breakfast I realized we didn’t have anything to make a special meal. All we had was an unopened box of Lucky Charms so I went with it; either I brought it to her in bed or she would walk out to the kitchen to get it, you know? If nothing else I could save her a trip down the hallway.”

Glancing up at them, he saw the eagerness to listen to their parents’ beginnings, no trace of pity in either of their gazes. He briefly marveled at how beautiful their eyes were, thankful that they got their mother’s eyes and his dark hair to become perfect little combinations of them both.

“She didn’t mind the cereal and cried when she opened the card,” he continued, smiling at the memory. “She told me that it was the best first Mother’s Day she could imagine, and that she couldn’t wait until Chiyo was older to help carry in the tray of cereal. So that’s just how it’s happened every year since. Even when I became a hero with Fatgum and when your Uncle Katsuki and I started our agency, she told me I should only ever get her a card and maybe flowers, but no gifts. When you two got older it was easier to get gifts because I could just say they were from you, though.”

They all laughed, the tension that the air had held since he began his story gone.

Chiyo bumped Kazuma’s shoulder with her own. “That’s the kind of husband you better be.”

He puffed out his chest and knocked his little fists together in his father’s signature move. “It’s the manliest way to be a husband!”

Kirishima smiled widely, pride filling him at how truly amazing his kids were. He was blessed in every way possible with his family and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

“C’mon, kiddos, let’s go surprise your mom,” he said, and they ran to the kotatsu to grab their gifts to her, Kazuma handing him the single flower and dusty pink card he had chosen for his wife.

The trio made their way upstairs, presents held in the children’s grasp and him balancing the tray in one hand and his own presents in the other. He was sure his wife was already awake from their laughter in the kitchen, but tradition said they had to wake her up with breakfast in bed.

“Happy Mother’s Day!” they shouted as they entered the bedroom, Chiyo and Kazuma jumping onto the bed with her to give hugs and kisses.

She looked up at him with a beaming smile as he set the food on her bedside table, mouthing “thank you” as she hugged the children close.

Kirishima nodded, his own smile wide, as his eyes drifted to the three frames on the wall behind her. The bottom two displayed each of their children’s pictures from when they were born, the frames a soft purple color with their names engraved under their respective photo. Above them hung a dusty pink frame that read My First Mother’s Day, an open card and a single, dried pink carnation inside.

The carnation represented endurance, and he knew what the writing in the card said by heart, the words he had written so many years ago still true.

“I grew up with two mothers, and I used to think that taught me what motherhood was all about and, in a way, it did. I’m forever thankful to the women who raised me but when it comes to motherhood I look to you as my source for what it truly is. Growing up I didn’t see them struggle but persevere through the hard times. I never came home to see them swaying a sleeping baby in a sling across their chest while they prepared dinner, a laptop on the counter with a business meeting half over where they presented end of the quarter data. They supported my dreams of being a hero, but not by staying home with a newborn daughter while I took extra hours to grow my name and try to earn just a little more than enough money. I love you endlessly for the sacrifices you’ve made for our little family and the way you mother Chiyo. I can’t imagine anyone else by my side during the good times and the difficult ones, and I say difficult because with you they’re never bad. You’re an amazing mother and I can’t wait to see you teach Chiyo even more as time goes on. I love you so much.

Eijirou”

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flowersandskeletons526 · 5 years ago

Text

“Broken Noses and Bad Ideas” - Glitradora fanfic, part 3

I think Catra is becoming my favorite character to write. Also, plot! Damn! 🙃

Enjoy part 3!

Part 1 Part 2

—

The water ran pink as Catra washed the blood from her hands. Her knife sat on the counter beside her, scrubbed clean and disinfected. Her knuckles were split open from the short fight. She focused on her hands as Scorpia paced behind her, arms crossed, still wearing her outfit from the performance.

Catra wanted to shout at her to stop pacing, but she really couldn’t blame her for being worried. She disappeared after the performance, which already made Scorpia worried, and then showed up covered in blood with a knife and some battered pink stranger in her arms. Now, said stranger was asleep in her bed on the other side of the cramped, rickety house. For once, Scorpia had a right to be concerned.

“You’re sure that no one saw you?” she asked as Catra dried her hands. “Catra, what if someone calls the cops?”

“No one is going to call the cops,” Catra said.

“Are you sure?”

“It was dark, no one was around, and none of them cared to look at me. They were too busy bleeding out. Besides, what are they going to say if they do call? The four of us were kicking the shit out of some girl and one random person came over and took down all of us?”

“Maybe.”

Catra snorted. “Not gonna happen. I swear, we’re fine.”

Scorpia made an uneasy sound in the back of her throat and wrung her hands. She glanced in the direction of the bedroom. “Why did you get involved, anyway?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, it is a little out of character for you.”

Catra pursed her lips and shrugged, keeping her back to Scorpia. “She needed help.”

“Are you okay?” Scorpia turned Catra and cupped her face, squinting at her. “Are you feeling sick?”

“No! Get off me!” Catra swatted her hands away. “Look, as soon as the girl wakes up, she’s out of here. And besides, I met her earlier this week and now I can call in a favor. It’s always a good idea to have friends in a new city, right?”

“I guess.”

“Come on, you trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” Catra patted Scorpia’s shoulder as she stepped around her. “Nice job during the show, by the way. Go get some sleep.”

“Thanks, Catra! Night.”

“Night.”

Catra watched Scorpia until she shut her bedroom door behind her. Running her hands through her messy hair, she grabbed her knife from the counter and looked at her reflection in the blade. She knew where she stabbed those thugs; they wouldn’t die if they got to a hospital. She slipped the weapon into her pocket and went to her bedroom.

The girl from the magic shop was still unconscious. Rogelio helped bandage her up, glaring at Catra standing over him the entire time while Lonnie raged about stabbing strangers “for some punk princess,” as she put it.

The worst of the wounds on her face were covered, but smaller scrapes and cuts were still visible. The few spots of blood soaking through her sparkly shirt were tiny and superficial, so Rogelio left those alone and focused on her face and arms. Most of the wounds were bruises, anyway. The girl had turned onto her side in her sleep, her jacket lying beside her, face battered and exhausted but somehow peaceful in the dim lamplight.

Catra crossed her arms as she narrowed her eyes, nails digging into her biceps. Scorpia’s questions ran through her head. Sure, the girl needed help, but Catra wasn’t going to lie to herself about it. She saw that portrait behind the counter in the magic shop.

She knew that face. It had haunted her for over a year now, since the last time she was dragged to Etheria on business. It wasn’t her choice to be back, even if she had convinced her bandmates that it was. If she had any say, she would write the city out of her mind and never come back, never think about the place or what happened here ever again. But now, with this girl lying in her bed and the image of the portrait from the shop in her mind, she couldn’t forget any of it.

Adora suddenly showing up didn’t help with anything, either. No matter what else she tried to scrub from her thoughts, Adora always stayed. Every waking moment, she was there nagging in the back of Catra’s head. It made her blood boil in her veins as she clenched her jaw, suddenly ready to tear the next wisetalker in her path to shreds.

The girl’s phone buzzed on the bedside table. Catra cringed. It had been going off since before they even arrived at the house, and the noise drove her insane. Stepping into the room with a sigh, she grabbed the phone to see if she could put it on silent.

Someone must love her, she thought as she turned the phone on.

Adora’s face lit the screen. Catra froze. She was sure she was hallucinating for a moment, but the picture didn’t disappear. Her fingers curled into talons as the phone continued to buzz, barely restraining herself from declining the call. She set the phone down before she crushed it by accident.

Once the phone finally stopped ringing, she figured out how to put it on silent and flipped it facedown on the table. She stepped back and took a shaky breath. Her eyes fell on the sleeping girl.

A portrait of that woman was hanging in the girl’s store. Adora had been calling her nonstop since Catra found her.

Catra narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”

The girl didn’t stir. Gritting her teeth, she exhaled sharply and stepped out of the room, closing the door halfway behind her.

She sat at the card table in the middle of the kitchen and arched over the back of the folding chair. Her phone rang once. She answered before it could ring again. It was never a good idea to keep this particular caller waiting.

“Hello?”

“Catra.” Hordak’s raspy voice cut through the speaker. “Have you settled in Etheria yet?”

“We just got everything situated. I was about to call you.”

“You were planning to call me at such hours of the night?”

Catra swallowed hard. “The show ran late, sir. My apologies.”

“Are you lying to me?”

“Of course not, sir.”

“Good. When can I expect your payment?”

“We get the check next week.”

“I will remind you once that I expect every payment to be on time. It is proving expensive to fund this endeavor of yours.”

“I understand.”

“And remember that you must always be available should I have business for you to conduct in the city.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You claimed to have missed when I said to call on account of your performance running late?”

“It did.”

“In the future, you will inform me of any such instances beforehand. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You have served me well thus far, Catra. I expect this trend to continue.”

Catra clenched her fist and snarled at the table, but her voice was level and calm. “Thank you, sir.”

“Are there any other setbacks you would like to report to me now?” Hordak asked.

Her eyes flickered towards the room where the girl lie sleeping. She thought of the woman in the portrait. Her decision had to be quick; any hesitation would be obvious to the ruthless man on the other end of the line.

“No sir.”

“Excellent. We will be in touch.”

The line went dead. Catra dropped her phone to the table and shoved it away. Scratching the back of her neck, she grabbed an opened, half empty energy drink from the fridge. She had been functioning on the same level of exhaustion since she was fourteen, but she didn’t want to take the chance of being asleep when the girl woke up. Getting jumped and then waking up alone in a strange house did not lend itself to any good outcomes.

As if on cue, Catra heard groaning as soon as she finished the drink. Tossing the can in the trash, she stepped into her bedroom. The girl propped herself up on one arm, holding a hand to her head. Her eyebrows were drawn together, eyes screwed shut, and she sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth as she prodded a bandage on her head. Her eyes fluttered open as Catra stood in the doorway.

The girl yelped. Scrambling back, she pressed her back against the headboard and smacked her head off it in the process. Catra just stood in the doorway and tilted her head. It took a moment for the girl to calm down, still breathing hard as her eyes roved over Catra. Their eyes locked. An infinitesimal bit of tension left her shoulders.

“You,” she said.

“Me,” Catra replied. The girl’s odd reaction drew a tiny smirk from her. “How do you feel?”

“Fine.” The girl looked her up and down. “Where am I?”

“My place.”

“Where?”

“West side. Not far from downtown.” Catra took a few steps into the room. The girl turned to follow her movements. “You took quite the beating back there.”

She held her side and grimaced. “What happened?”

“I took care of them and brought you here to patch you up.”

“Why not a hospital?”

“I don’t like them, you weren’t dying, and they’re expensive. You really don’t know what anyone’s money situation is like these days.”

The girl nodded slowly. “I should probably get health insurance, now that I think about it,” she mumbled to herself. Catra chuckled. “Thank you for helping me.”

Catra didn’t respond. She stepped around to perch at the foot of the bed. The girl drew her knees up her chest and watched Catra over them, torn between gratefulness and suspicion. Catra didn’t blame her; she would have reacted the same way. She didn’t risk a handshake. “I’m Catra,” she said.

“Glimmer,” the girl introduced herself as.

Catra raised an eyebrow. “Is that your real name?”

Glimmer frowned. “Is Catra your real name?”

Catra chuckled. “Fair. Alright then. Glimmer. How did you end up getting the shit beat out of you outside some little club in the middle of the night? Did you piss off your coven or something?”

“Because I work in a magic store. Funny,” Glimmer deadpanned. Catra tilted her head at the little push, fighting a smirk. “I ran into two of them earlier in the week at a party. They came after me and lost the first time, so then they got some friends and tried again.”

“And won.”

“Yeah.”

“Not much of a fight.”

“Not until you showed up.”

Catra grew hyper aware of the knife in her pocket. She shrugged one shoulder and stood. “Well, now that you’re awake, I can bring you home whenever you want. You can stay the night here if you need it or I can drive you. Answer your phone first, though. It’s been going off for awhile.”

Glimmer nodded and reached for the cellphone as Catra stepped out. She closed the door and stood off to the side, able to hear Glimmer through the thin walls.

“Adora? Hey, yeah, I’m fine… I ran into those people from Mermista’s party again and… No, no, it’s okay. I know it’s been hours. Someone I know brought me to the hospital just to get patched up and I couldn’t really pay attention to my phone.”

Lying to calm her down? Catra thought. Guess Adora hasn’t changed much.

“It was just someone I know,” Glimmer continued. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. It wasn’t bad, they just gave me a few bandages… Adora, you don’t have a car. Listen, I can catch a ride home. Just meet me at the store, okay? I’ll be there in a little bit… Yeah, okay, Adora. I’ll see you then.”

Catra stepped over to the table before Glimmer walked out of the room. She caught the limp Glimmer tried to hide as the shorter girl slipped her jacket on and popped the collar. “I’m assuming you’re taking me up on the ride?” Catra asked.

“Please,” Glimmer said.

“Where to?”

“The magic store.”

Catra grabbed her keys and tossed a cropped leather jacket over her shoulders. “Let’s go, Sparkles.”

“Sparkles?”

“Hey, it fits.”

The band owned an old van with their logo emblazoned across the side. It shook slightly as they drove through the city, quiet rock music playing over the radio. Glimmer faced forward with her head leaning on the window. Catra glanced at her out of the corner of her eye to find Glimmer already watching. Both turned their eyes forward when they saw the other looking.

“Thanks again for helping me,” Glimmer mumbled.

“Don’t mention it,” Catra replied.

“Is there anything I can do to pay you back or something?”

“Why?”

“I feel like I should.”

Catra smirked. “Maybe you can give me a discount on some crystals next time I check out the store,” she joked. Glimmer smiled. Catra decided she liked it when the girl smiled. “So, do you own that place or just work there?”

“Both. It was my parents’ but my friends and I manage it now.”

“They retire?”

“They’re both dead.”

That woman must be her mother, Catra thought. “Mine too. I think, anyway,” she said. Glimmer turned to her for a moment, eyes roving over her, before she looked away again. “Your friend, is it that kid that was at the club with you? The one with the crop top?”

“Yeah, that’s Bow.”

“He knows that it’s only like, fifty degrees during the day, right?”

Glimmer snickered. “He always wears that.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

They pulled onto Glimmer’s street. Catra held a hand out and glanced her way. “Hey, I’m performing at the Crystal Castle for a while. You should come catch me after a show sometime.”

Glimmer hesitated for a moment before taking Catra’s hand. “I’ll see when I’m free next,” she said.

“Cool.”

Catra parked on the side of the street by the store. Adora and the boy with the crop top stood outside on the sidewalk, the former pacing around and the latter biting his thumbnail. When Glimmer stepped out, they flew to her and immediately wrapped her in their arms, fretting and fussing over her. Glimmer held onto Adora for a moment before waving both of them off. Catra left the car running and stepped out as Glimmer said something to them, leaning over the hood.

Adora caught sight of her and snarled, but Glimmer spoke up before she could do anything. “Catra, these are my friends Adora and Bow,” she said. “Guys, this is Catra. She sorta saved me tonight.”

“We’ve met,” Adora growled, putting an arm around Glimmer’s shoulder and holding her close. Catra glanced at Adora’s hand and met her eyes, an obvious gesture to the blonde after memorizing each other’s every mannerism over the years. Adora pulled Glimmer closer.

Bow stepped forward. “Thanks,” he said. “We’re really more grateful than we can say. Not many people would help a stranger like that.”

Catra shrugged. “Eh, we’re acquaintances. It’s nothing.”

“Well, it’s something to us,” Bow said with a smile. Catra just watched him. Was he always this friendly? “So, thanks.”

Catra nodded and stepped back to her door. “Alright. Feel better, Sparkles,” she said. Glimmer rolled her eyes, and Catra smirked. That nickname was definitely going to stay. She noticed Adora still glaring at her and nodded once. “Adora.”

“Catra.”

With one last smirk, Catra slid into her seat and waved as she drove off. In the rearview mirror, she watched Adora and Bow pull Glimmer close to them before she turned onto another street.

Her phone chimed. She opened it to find a message from Hordak about a job: collect from a reluctant debtor on the east side and send the payment in with her own.

Catra threw the phone to the floor with a snarl of disgust. Her knuckles turned white from her grip on the steering wheel, hate flaring in her chest as she clenched her teeth. She couldn’t stand to be in these situations, at his beck and call whenever he needed an intimidator or a hitman to take care of his dirty work. There were times when she thought about crushing the phone beneath her heel and running away from it all, just living her life with her music and her band, but he would find her. He had spies all over the country. The only way to get away from him was turning her car off the side of a bridge.

She had thought about it more than a few times. A sharp turn and she would be gone. But for some reason, she held back. There was always something that held her back.

Taking a deep breath, she managed to make it back to the house and took the keys out of the ignition. With one hand by her side and the other on the wheel, she rested her forehead against the top of the ring and closed her eyes.

She came back to this city and the first person she met was that woman’s daughter. And she was best friends with Adora! That had to mean something. It had to. Whether it was karma or just some cruel trick, it couldn’t be coincidence.

She hoped Glimmer would come to meet her at a show. Part of her was curious; she had to see where this situation led her.

Mostly, she had to get rid of the nagging voice in the back of her head. She didn’t care about anything else.

#glitradora #glitra #glimmadora #catradora #glimmer #catra #adora #bow #bow she ra #scorpia #hordak #spop #She Ra #she ra reboot

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frickfrancegetmoney · 5 years ago

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sunflower feelings

tw: weight loss, character death

Two years had passed by in the blink of an eye. Alfred remembered almost every moment, every little thing about his time with Arthur. He didn't think he'd ever forget, not for the rest of his life, however long that may be.

He savoured everything, every little thing that Arthur had brought into his life. He remembered first laying eyes on Arthur. He had decided to take a stroll after first being admitted into hospital, and the hospital had a beautiful garden filled with trees, flowers and plants of all different kinds. He remembered spotting the other blond sitting on a wooden bench, his nose buried in a book. Alfred didn't think he had ever seen such beauty, and he hadn't even seen the patient's full face. But, by Gosh, when he did, he swore his breath had been taken away. The slim faced individual was simply sensational.

And his thoughts hadn't changed. No matter how much Arthur paled, to the point where Alfred swore he was going to suck his blood or something, or how skinny Arthur got, Alfred always found the Brit to be prettier than a picture.

However, the more Arthur worsened, the more Alfred worried.

"Artie, come on. You have to eat this, you're supposed to be taking in 3,700 calories. You've only had 2,600." Alfred frowned.

"How many times have I told you to not call me that? And, that's 100 more calories than I should have. Men are only supposed to intake 2,500." Arthur retorted, staring out of the window, seeming fixated on the garden outside, "Can we go outside soon?"

"You're losing weight, Arthur, and fast. The doctor says that you need 3,700 to gain."

"I don't want to gain, Alfred," Arthur whipped his head around to face his dusty blond boyfriend, "I'm perfectly happy the way I am."

"But, you're not perfectly healthy. And I need you to be both." Alfred's hand reached out for the other's, only for it to be slapped away. The frown he wore earlier returned to his face, as he withdrew his hand.

"I'm fine, Alfie." The other turned his head away again, and Alfred really wanted to believe him, really and truly.

He supposed not all of his moments with Arthur were happy. They fought a lot of the time, but Alfred was used to turning up to Arthur's room to deliver him flowers and apologising with a handmade card. Sometimes, he thought that Arthur started arguments just so he could receive a gift, but that idea was dismissed after that one time Arthur didn't speak to him for three days even when Alfred had delivered him a gift each day.

But, Alfred knew that the good times of their relationship outweighed the bad. Every time he thought of Arthur, the hospital disco popped into his mind. It was a stupid thing really, having a disco in a hospital, but the five minutes that Alfred showed up for seemed to be awesome for the patients, especially the kids.

Sadly, Arthur couldn't be with him, as that was when his condition was worsening, and being on his feet for more than ten minutes was painful and Alfred found him wheezing and clutching at his chest. But, that wouldn't stop Alfred from bringing the disco to his love.

He tapped three times on Arthur's door, before receiving a faint "Come in." He took the invite, the door creaking open at his entrance. He saw Arthur's face light up, which brought fireworks to his chest as a grin appeared on his face. He sauntered over to Arthur's bedside, taking a seat. Alfred handed the other a bouquet, which small hands accepted with glee. He brought them to his nose, inhaling the scent of the roses and lilies.

"Thank you, Alfie. This means a lot to me." Arthur croaked out, handing the bouquet back to the American, "Put them in the vase for me." And he did.

Arthur asked how the disco was, and Alfred shrugged, "It's pretty boring. Without you there, that is." He chuckled, a grin spreading across his face. Arthur shook his head, chuckling with the other.

"Ah, right. Well, I thought that if you couldn't go to the disco, I'd bring it to you," The grin transformed into a sheepish smile, "So, I've got music on my phone, and uh..." Alfred cleared his throat, "Can I have this dance?" He asked, standing up and holding out his hand for the other to take.

Arthur's eyes widened, "I'm afraid I have to decline, I can't dance for the life of me." He chuckled, his face flushing at the request.

"Never said I could either," Alfred laughed, "But I want you to dance with me. Won't be longer than three minutes, so you'll be okay."

"Gods, Alfred Jones, you are the biggest idiot I've ever known." Arthur threw the covers back, holding his hands out for Alfred to take, and he did. He helped Arthur to his feet, only for the other to dive into a coughing fit.

Alfred frowned, "Are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't think about it getting worse." He rubbed the other's back, not wanting to smack it in fear of hurting the other.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Arthur sputtered out, before regaining his composure, "Let's dance, love." He smiled, draping his arms over Alfred's shoulders.

A song began to play from Alfred's phone, 'Sunflower Feelings' by Kuzu Mellow. It was 'their song', as Alfred had proclaimed one day that it was made for them, about them and their relationship. And it would be right to say that Arthur agreed, smiling as he heard the familiar tune. Alfred's hands found Arthur's waist.

They didn't so much dance, but slowly spun in circles while staring deeply into each other's eyes. As soon as they got into a rhythm, it felt that the two of them were the only beings in existence, holding each other dearly. The song only lasted for around a minute, but it felt as long as their relationship had gone on for. As the music slowly faded out, there was no sounds anymore, but they continued their dance, and it felt like they were walking on the stars.

And Alfred had begun to wonder, what would their life be like if they weren't dying? He knew he would love to spoil Arthur. He'd take him on so many dates, to the carnival, to fancy restaurants, to libraries. He knew Arthur would love a museum date. And out of all of the art there, he knew his Artie would be he most endearing piece there.

"What are you staring at, git?" Arthur broke him out of his imagination. Alfred just smiled.

"I love you." And he pressed their lips together.

That felt like months ago, but it had only been two weeks. And now, Arthur lay dying. Alfred knew that he wasn't going to make it through the night, so he sat by his bedside for the whole day, speaking to him, and clutching his hand like he was going to fly away. And Alfred wouldn't be surprised, not if Arthur really had grown wings and flew, because the petite blond was the brightest angel he'd ever seen.

"I swore I wouldn't cry." Alfred sniffled, remembering the promise he had made to Arthur a few days prior.

"So don't." Arthur replied, his voice hoarse, his head resting back against the pillow as he had no energy left to pick it up.

"You know I can't help it, Artie."

"Arthur, not Artie. I've told you millions of times. Can you grant me my dying wish?" Arthur chuckled, but his face fell as he saw Alfred's pained expression. "Alfie, don't look so sad. I want this, I've wanted it for years."

"More than you want to be with me?" Was Alfred's stupid response, and even he knew it was the dumbest thing he'd ever said.

"Don't say that, you know it isn't true. I love you, Alfred, but I shouldn't exist like this. You and I both know that." Arthur squeezed the other's hand to the best of his ability.

"I know, I know. But I can't deal with the thought of you leaving me." Alfred covered his face with his hand, biting his lip to stop him from breaking down.

Arthur began to sob, "I want to be with you, too. More than anything I've ever wanted before, but I can't, not like this." He sniffled and cried.

Alfred attached their lips, wiping Arthur's tears as he did so, "I love you, Arthur." He whispered as he pulled back. Arthur smiled, his body visibly shaking.

Alfred knew Arthur was scared. He was scared to die, but didn't want anyone to know. No matter how much Arthur tried to hide it, Alfred could tell he was putting on a front.

Arthur was scared of dying, but he was more scared of people knowing his fear.

"I've fallen for you, Alfred Jones, and I don't know how to return to my feet." Arthur's words shook.

"And you, Arthur Kirkland, I've fallen for you." Alfred kissed his forehead.

And they sat for hours and talked, basking in each other's presence. But soon, they were interrupted by doctors rushing in to the beeping of Arthur's heart monitor. His heart was slowing rapidly, and Alfred knew that he was witnessing the last minutes of his love's life.

And then Arthur's hand went limp, and Alfred broke his promise.

———

originally posted on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22163416

thank you for reading! <3

#usuk angst #usuk #sorry for the linespacing #it’s ugly as hell i know #i hope u like!#america x england

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