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youbloodymadgenius · 4 years ago

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Crashing Waves (Modern!Ivar x reader)

A/N: This is my entry to @waiting4inspiration's 9K Multiple of 3 Challenge 🌺 Congrats again, love!

Prompt 16: Something red / High heels / A quiet place

@geekandbooknerd - thank you, darling, you're a wonderful beta 💖

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: Bringing Ivar back to the place - Ragnar's hunting cabin - of his greatest failure seems pretty bold. Yet you are sure of your plan. It will work. And you will prove him wrong.

Warnings: smut; use of a cock ring; mention of Ivar's insecurities; no real plot.

Words: 2881

Sitting on the bed, Ivar swallows loudly, digging fingernails into his palms. "Why did you bring me here, Y/N? What are we doing here?" You watch the muscles in his jaw clenching and flexing as he grinds his teeth. You know he's trying very hard to control his anger.

Taking two steps towards him, you cup his face, "This is a quiet place," lean forward and your mouth grazes his cheek and then his earlobe. "You know how much I love quiet places."

"You love quiet places? Are you fucking kidding me??" Seething with anger, he gives you dagger eyes. "Of all the possible places, you really had to choose this one? This fucking cabin? You fucking know this is not just any quiet place."

Kneeling down in front of him – a task nearly impossible with your six-inch stilettos – you place your hands on the bed, on either side of his hips. Reaching up, your thumb strokes his cheekbone, your face peering up at him. "I know, my love."

Of course, you do.

You know exactly what Ragnar's hunting cabin means to your lover. You know what happened here – or rather what didn't. You know about his failure. You know everything because one night he told you, between sobs, and after way too much Akvavit. And that's exactly why you're here tonight.

"Why, then?" His knuckles white, he asks through clenched teeth, averting his gaze.

"Because," things are clear to you, so you don't hesitate, "it's time to start making some new memories, my love." Your right hand grabs his left and you intertwine his fingers with yours. "And because it's time I prove you wrong."

Ivar ducks his head down, unable to look you in the eye. His voice barely a whisper, you realize he is shaking. "I… You know I…", he releases a shuddering breath, his gaze finding yours, "I can't…"

The sharpness in his voice is gone, replaced by… despair… And the way he looks at you… Gods… His wide eyes are filled with fear, confusion and… tears? It's almost enough to persuade you to back off.

But no. You won't.

"I don't know that, my love. I only know what you told me." Carefully placing your hands on his thighs, you tilt your head to the side. There are a thousand questions in his eyes and he seems hurt, and self-conscious. Oh no, you won't allow him to go down this path. "Listen to me. I was not lying, Ivar – I never lied to you – with your dexterous fingers and your skilled tongue, you can pleasure a woman. You pleasure me each and every time, never doubt that. But I want more. For you more than for me."

"But… what…" He wraps his fingers around your right hand, squeezing it so tight it hurts, but you don't complain, not when you can almost feel the panic coursing through his veins, so you just keep looking at him, with a smile on your lips and love in your eyes. "What if it doesn't work? What if… I can't get it up long enough like… like with… with Margrethe…"

"Oh Ivar, stop dwelling on this old story, will you? You were so young, my love, still a boy. And she was just a girl. A girl you didn't have feelings for. A girl who didn't love you." Gently grabbing his chin, you bring his mouth to yours for a soft, light kiss. "I am in love with you, Ivar. And I know you're in love with me. That, my love, makes a huge difference. Plus, you're no longer a boy… And, as for myself, tell me the truth, my love… " You stand up and then slowly take off your long, black trench coat. "Do I look like a girl?"

The second Ivar sees what's under the coat, his mouth falls open. Gaping and gawking, he's literally gobsmacked. If you're being honest, that's what you were aiming for when you chose that red dress. Red is his favorite color and well, the dress fits like a glove and shows off every curve you've got. As he stares at you, his eyes wide open, you're pleasantly surprised to see more lust than fear, or worry, or anger in his gaze.

"So, do I look like a girl?" You ask once again, flashing him a cheeky smile while making your way between his thighs. Your hand grazes his crotch, but Ivar doesn't seem to notice, too entranced – mesmerized – by the sight in front of him.

"No," Ivar shakes his head and clears his throat but his voice is still hoarse when he speaks again, "No, you look like a fucking goddess."

"Then, you should help your goddess with the zipper." You pull away just enough to turn around and the next moment Ivar's hands are on you, roaming over your waist and back. He slowly unzips your dress, then slides his hands over your shoulders and down your arms to remove it. "Fuck!" Ivar gasps as your dress falls to the floor, and you can hear him swallowing. "You're… you're naked."

"That I am." You turn your head just in time to see him licking his lips. His nostrils are flaring, his pupils are dilated, and the bulge in his pant is unmistakable. Good.

"Take off your clothes and then scoot over and lie down." You order, stepping out of your dress but keeping your stilettos on. Ivar barely nods, but starts unbuttoning his shirt.

Crossing the room completely naked, you can feel his intense gaze on you and as you bend down to pick up your purse, your butt on display, he makes a sound, a cross between a whimper and a groan. "Gods, woman!" He whines when you slowly come back, swaying your hips, your hand grazing his feet before putting your purse right next to him and dimming the lights.

Ivar, a white sheet covering his lower body, watches your every move, and even if his arousal is obvious, you can tell he's still scared, or at the very least, a little wary.

Kicking your shoes off, you climb onto the bed and straddle him. Careful not to put your full weight on him, you lean forward, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"Y/N, what are you planning to do?" His strained voice betrays his sudden anxiety.

Smiling, you brush his cheek. "Do you trust me, Ivar?"

"It's not about trust but about what I can or–" He starts but you stop him, a finger on his mouth. You then flatten your palms on his chest and soon your hands are venturing down. You explore the lines of his torso, tracing left and right across the ridges in his abdomen. Gods, you love his body! When your fingers come across the thin trail of hair leading lower, you tilt your head, your hand slipping under the sheet. Ivar's breath hitches in his throat as your hand meets his now half-hard cock.

"Answer me, Ivar, do you trust me?"

"Yes." Ivar breathes out his answer and, reaching out, he runs his hands up your ribs to your breasts. "You know I do." He doesn't have to say it for you to know he's referring to his legs. You know them; you're allowed to see and touch them and you know how big a deal it is to him. He does trust you.

"Then trust me, one more time, please. Trust me on this."

As you draw a finger up to the head of his cock and back down the underside, tracing a line around his balls, Ivar lets out a hiss, followed by a groan when you wrap your hand around him.

All of a sudden, he grabs your wrist, preventing you to move. "You know I can't…"

"Love, you're hard." Since you can't really move your hand, you squeeze your fingers around him to prove your point. You're rewarded by a deep, involuntary, grunt, but the next thing you know, Ivar is swaying his head from side to side. "It won't… last… long enough…" His words are barely audible; you know the admission kills him. And you know he's convinced that it is an unavoidable truth. Because that's exactly what happened with Margrethe.

"It will, my love. Have faith in yourself. And if you can't do that, then have faith in me."

Slowly, using your free hand, you unwrap his fingers from your wrist, your eyes never leaving his. Once he releases his grip, you give him a wicked smile and then scoot back farther while pulling down the sheet. Pushing his legs apart with care, you settle between them, reaching for his cock.

And then, you swallow him down and start to suck. Ivar gasps and pants, hissing breaths through his teeth. You know he never experienced anything like this. No one has never done that for him, and there's a sense of pride blooming in your chest knowing you're the one offering him so much pleasure.

Peeking up, you see your lover, propped up on his elbows, who looks at you as you really were a goddess. He's getting harder and harder, squirming underneath you. Pulling back reluctantly, you give him a sultry look, not missing how confused and… disappointed he looks.

"What… Why? I … Oh fuck… I think… Y/N… I… I was…" He stutters, struggling to gather his thoughts. You have to remind yourself of his reality. Your lover never had an orgasm.

"You were close, yes, I know, Ivar. And I promise you're going to come. But I want you to come inside me, my love."

Ivar swallows. "But…" Eyes darting all over the place, you know he's once again overcome with self-doubt.

"There's no buts, love." You cut him off, reaching out and then scrabbling around in your purse. When you find what you were looking for, you hold it triumphantly in front of you. "There's no buts because of this."

Ivar frowns, confused. "What's that?"

"A cock ring, my love. And well," you add, grabbing a small tube, "some lube too."

"A what?" Bewildered, Ivar sits up in the bed, but you push gently on his chest.

You did some research. The cock ring will help him maintain his erection. Not that he physically needs it – you're sure he doesn't – but emotionally, it's a different story. But since you don't want him to have time to rethink what you're about to do – and because you wouldn't want to waste such an impressive erection – you're not going to give him a lecture on cock rings right now.

"I'll explain later, love. It won't harm you; I promise. Trust me with this, Ivar, please."

When he nods – shyly, tentatively and almost sheepishly – you don't waste any more time and pour a small amount of lube into your hand. He gasps as soon as you wrap a slick hand around his still hard cock. Setting the lube aside, you slide the ring down his cock.

"Does it hurt?" Looking closely at his face for any sign of discomfort, you slowly run your hands up his thighs, and as he shakes his head no, you straddle him once more without ever breaking eye contact.

Ivar can barely breathe and doesn't even dare to blink. He can't believe it. Fuck, he can't. This is happening. This is fucking happening. He's rock-hard, harder than he has ever been and he feels like his pounding heart is going to burst.

Earlier, the warmth of your wet mouth on his dick felt insanely good. Your lips wrapped around him, your hand holding him, your eyes filled with an equal amount of lust and love… It has been almost too much, and heavenly as the same time. He would have wanted it to never end and had resented you for a moment when you had released his cock. But it doesn't matter, not anymore, not when you're just about–

"Aaaaaaaaah!" He closes his eyes, the new sensation incredible, otherworldly, overwhelming. He's dying. Or maybe he's already dead. He can't grasp what's happening, or what he's feeling. It's magic, like nothing he's ever felt before. His head is spinning and tears are welling up in his eyes. This… This must be Valhalla; it can't be anything else. Gods…

And then a distant voice brings him back to the here and now. "Ivar, look at me, my love." It takes him several seconds to understand that it is your voice, and that he's the one you're talking to.

Slowly, very slowly and almost reluctantly, because a part of him believes that what he's experiencing is nothing but a dream, he finally opens his eyes. What a glorious sight! You, the woman he loves, are sitting atop him, looking down at him as if he were the eighth wonder of the world. And you're… he's… fuck.

"I'm… Ah… Y/N… I'm…" He can't even form a coherent sentence but it doesn't matter, because you're so beautiful, because your face is radiant with love, because you definitely are a goddess. And because you know what he's trying to say.

"Yes, my love, you're inside me. And you're hard, and you're not hurting me. It feels so good, Ivar. You feel so good… Your home, my love…" Bending forward and weaving your fingers through his hair, you kiss him as you begin to move. He's at loss for what to do, and it doesn't matter, and there's fireworks in his heart, and you're fucking right, he's home. You're his home. His.

His hands on your thighs, he looks at you and you're so fucking beautiful it takes his breath away. And the feeling of you, wet and throbbing around his cock, is the most amazing thing he's ever felt.

Sitting upright, your back arches as you widen your legs. Your heat engulfing him, he stares at you, bewitched. You're riding him, hard, gasping, moaning, praising, your skin glistening with sweat.

Fuck.

The powerful thrusts of your hips coax his body to a place he's never been before. The sounds of your lovemaking are filling the room… The suction when he slides out of you; the slap of his balls against you when he goes deep. Your grunts. Your pantings. His breaths.

"Oh fuck… it's… oh gods..." You begin to move faster and he keeps his eyes on you. You don't shy away from his scrutiny, holding eye contact as you bounce on him. His hands now cup your ass cheeks, pulling you against him, and then they find your hips, guiding you. He's going to make you come, like a man. Like a whole man. He's going to make you come because he's inside you. The thought is exhilarating, intoxicating.

"Ivar, I'm close!" The way your eyes are half-lidded and lust drunk as you breathe out his name is the most erotic thing he's ever seen. When you begin to lose your rhythm, your moans morph to keening cries and finally you shout and he gasps and you cry out his name as you clamp around him, throwing your head back. The rush of your heat surrounding his cock is overpowering, prodigious, and he thinks he may be losing his mind.

Struggling to catch your breath and still trembling, you kiss him deeply, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He groans when you lift off him but your hand finds his cheek, caressing it. "I want you to come, and you won't come with the cock ring around your cock, love." Your skilled fingers hastily removing it, you toss the ring on the floor and then you straddle him once again, sliding down his cock.

The tingling deep in his balls is nearly immediate and he's sure he's never felt this good. He kisses you like he's starving, and in some ways he's. His hands slide over your breasts, your hips rocking, and you're so fucking beautiful he can't believe his eyes. "I love you so much…" He manages to croak in a shallow breath.

And suddenly everything explodes and he loses track of where you end and he begins, and if you answer he doesn't hear it. His ears ring and his hips thrust up against yours and his whole-body shudders violently, once; twice; more. And then his eyes flutter shut as he comes, wave after wave after wave, until he feels disoriented and light-headed, his hot, thick seed flooding your pussy, and it's so powerful it's like a fucking earthquake.

When his whole body goes limp, he lets out a soft whimper as you rest your head on his chest only to reach up and toy with his hair.

When you look up at him, he's sure the whirlwind of his emotions is obvious on his face, but he doesn't care, just like he doesn't care about his tear-filled eyes, or his crooked legs. Truth be told, for the first time in his life, he doesn't give a damn about his legs. For the first time in his life, he feels whole and worthy. For the first time in his life, he feels like the happiest man on Earth.

And that could well be the greatest gift you, Y/N, the goddess of replaced memories, could ever give him.

He loves you.

🛡⚔️🛡

@waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @a-mess-of-fandoms @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @ivarthebloodyking @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @pieces-by-me @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood

#multipleof3challenge #Ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #ivar smut #smut ivar #modern ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar #modern!ivar x reader #modern-Ivar #ivar imagine #ivar fanfic #Ivar fic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #vikings imagine

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liyuesbian · 3 years ago

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✧ pygmalion!au [ningguang]

notes: btw idk how commissions from museums work i just made the process up LMAO and this one's kinda angsty? i mean, it is the pygmalion greek myth so iykyk. also, i describe this figurine of ningguang here but w/o the colour... i've linked it in case any1 needs the reference. (btw, this is not set in ancient greece specifically)

only yesterday had you been commissioned by an art gallery in the capital to create a piece for their up-and-coming collection titled desire, love and identity. yet here you are, slaving away to make the perfect image you had in your head come into fruition. your vision is exquisite once sketched on paper—you can't find any faults in it so you take the risk.

as soon as your chisel meets the marble, a feeling so invigorating dominates your body. no further references are necessary as you place your trust entirely on your hands, coarse from the labour. you find such mindless toil addicting and you work day and night, only stopping for a half-baked meal and the odd collapse into bed.

for months, love streams out of the tips of your fingers and through your sculpting tools to arrive at the stone figure. you sincerely hope the intimate emotion has been reached.

when you finish, you wipe the bead of sweat running down your forehead, rest the other palm on your hip and take slow steps backwards all while maintaining eye contact with the statue. a wave of sweet relief hits you and you fall to the floor, uncontrollably sobbing into tired hands that still grip the hammer and chisel.

it's beautiful.

you stagger, struggling to get up with your bruised knees while clumsily wiping the tears off your stained cheeks. setting the instruments aside, you lift your head to admire your handiwork up close. a woman made of stone sits elegantly atop an oriental chair, crossing her smooth, white legs over each other. her left elbow is propped on the arm of the chair while on the other side, a long smoking pipe is balanced between gloved fingers. around her lies an assortment of objects: a vase containing scrolls, a floor lamp, and a charmingly decorated folding screen.

you see, you had already thought it all out. you'd imagined ningguang's preferences for a life of luxury, her affinity for constructing and sprucing up interiors. she would be a master of the trades and a woman who likes to keep an air of mystery around her. and like how you increasingly project her to be more of a person than she ever will be, there is a creeping concern in the corner of your mind that you will lose your rationality just as quickly.

the sculpture's body is clad in a qipao with a slit that reveals alabaster skin below the waist. the dress—embellished with patterns and neat linings—hugs her figure and shows off a lean build. the extensive train and sleeves of the fabric are shaped curvaceously to mirror the flow of a waterfall. and her face. the section you strived so hard to refine. she stares at you with an imperious expression and a hint of a smirk. her gaze, so piercing, makes you avert your eyes in shyness but you find yourself gravitating back to her profile.

you muster up the courage to draw closer to your creation and unconsciously stroke her cheek with your thumb, captivated. if she were an empress, you'd be a common peasant—undeserving of setting your sights on such a goddess. you can feel your soul being sucked into eyes devoid of emotion—of anything, actually. after all, the woman sitting before you is not a person but an inanimate object.

the weeks following the completion of ningguang—which is the name you've picked up the habit of calling her—are spent in said lady's company. every minute of every day, you surround yourself with her presence as if she is your closest friend. you eat with her, tell her your troubles, even going so far as to decorate her with various types of jewellery and bringing her gifts you think she'd like.

"thank you," you whisper. "for always listening to me." in truth, you're always so immersed in your work that you forgot what conversations could feel like. though, you fear your art would never be on par with something so transcendent ever again.

you become curious, wondering what she would be like if the nymph in front of you were not just a figment of your imagination.

you perch yourself on top of ningguang's stone-cold lap and trace the contours of her visage. you inspect each crease on her lips and the minuscule crinkles in her eyes, applauding yourself for the well-crafted details. you don't know what possesses you but you close your eyes and press your lips against hers, hoping that once you open them, a living being would erupt from underneath the marble. but, of course, as soon as the light hits your retinas, ningguang is as unmoving as ever.

realising what you've just done, you drop off of her thighs and laugh anxiously. however, you could've sworn that you had felt warmth in the lips of your beloved muse.

"i've finally gone mad!" you cry aloud.

hell, you say to yourself, is it even possible to fall in love with such an... an artefact? you dismiss your glaringly obvious infatuation.

"nonsense," you mutter under your breath, sensing your heart breaking slightly. how can something so painfully humanlike also not be human at the same time? you must've caused a tremendous atrocity in your past life to have made the gods harbour a grudge against you. of all things, you'd never have guessed that a lifeless piece of art would be the object of your desire.

you can't bear to look at the handcrafted lady any longer and with an anguished face, cover her with a large cotton cloth. the plan was to wait until you could hand the statue over to the curators and try to ignore its existence until then.

for a few days, you act according to the plan, going about your daily routine but eventually, your stoic demeanour crumbles. you lock yourself in your room refusing to eat or believe that your affection would never be returned.

during the hours of sunlight, you weep under your sheets, drowning in self-inflicted sorrow. and at night, you do the same, lamenting over the loss of what could've been your true love. she would've been so perfect in your eyes, your other half, and the only one who could calm this growing turmoil!

the reality pains you. hence, you do the only thing you can do: you pray. you pray to the gods for a miracle, that the light of your life would stride into your room and pull you from the depths of despair... but she never does.

your last day "cohabitating" with the sculpture has arrived and for the first time in—what felt like—an eternity, you open the doors to your workshop. taking a deep breath, you unveil the stationary maiden.

it's still as beautiful as you remember.

you give it a sad smile, wanting to get its departure over and done with. you manoeuvre about the room to prepare the things for the movers who're due to come in a couple of hours. while you go down your little list of errands to be done, you cough and bat away the smoke—wait, the smoke? frantic, you spin around, eyes darting everywhere in search of its origin until they land on the smoking pipe you so intricately moulded for the commissioned piece.

it's strange, you don't recall colouring the statue. and how on earth is smoke coming out of the pipe? suspicious, you approach the motionless entity and almost stumble when you spot its chest rising.

oh lord! �� i really must be descending into madness! you clutch your head, clawing at your hair in hysteria.

"stop, please don't hurt yourself." the sound of a low, worried voice penetrates your ears. you shut your eyes tight.

"no, the gods have cursed me! i mustn't listen to your poisonous words!" you exclaim. your state of agitation is alleviated when the woman caresses your tensed arm.

"what has happened to you? i haven't seen you lately either." the tone is more soft and more tender than you had imagined. you release your grip.

"is it really you, ningguang?" your voice cracks at the end, and the woman you sought after witnesses your features twist into an expression of longing and hope.

"yes, my darling. i dare not go anywhere else."

helplessly, you rush to cup her face to check for heat, for the blood traversing under her skin—anything that would prove that your sweetheart is truly alive and breathing. and when you do get the confirmation, you beam, trying to withhold tears born from elation.

you bend down to kiss ningguang, who is still seated on the chair, once, twice, and three times to rid your scepticism. oh, deities! she's real.

"i love you," you declare.

"i know." you watch as the same creases you'd etched on the corners of her eyes spread into a loving half-moon shape and you kiss her again.

you reach a conclusion: you couldn't give away your lover—let alone a live person—to be displayed as part of a museum exhibition so when the workers arrive, you hide your muse away in another room. you apologise profusely and spin a lie, rambling on about how you had nothing to relinquish for the piece you had prepared had been oh-so-viciously stolen by a mob of trespassers!

the movers share with you their sympathies and ask what the work of art looks like and maybe they could sort something out with the authorities. nodding, you recount—so ardently—the details of your divine maiden. you feel heat rush to your face, chuckling when you realise that you'd run your mouth for too long.

in response to this, the two labourers exchange dubious looks as they peer at the static sculpture standing in the middle of the studio—its appearance unmistakably matching your elaborate description.

#ningguang #ningguang au #ningguang angst #ningguang x reader #ningguang headcanons #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin headcanons #genshin au #pygmalion au #ningguang imagines #genshin imagines

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nishisun · 4 years ago

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suna rintaro is NOT a genius.

summary: you loved the idea of soulmates. suna rintaro didn’t. it isn’t that hard to put two and two together to realize that maybe people with different opinions on things don’t belong together.

part 2

a/n: this was literally supposed to be a series, i gave up on it because i just didn’t like the way it turned out. it used to be called “out of my league” and this was the intro. i also renamed it. just emptying drafts!! please don’t get confused with the random timeskip, once again, this was a part of a series i never ended up posting😭

WARNING!!: suggestive themes, mentions of death, idk kinda angsty but tell me if i missed anything

Soulmates. Whatever the hell that means. The idea of soulmates is something I truly don’t understand. It’s bullshit, honestly. It’s all-pervasive.

My mother always told me I'd eventually find "the one.” I used to believe that when I was younger of course. But in my opinion? It’s all cliches. It's unhelpful, and it's certainly not true. Destiny is an excuse for the weak. Why do you think most marriages end in divorce? It's 'cause people who believe they are “destined to be" assume everything will fall into place without any effort. I don't appreciate people pontificating bullshit like that just to make me feel better, especially if they haven't found their "soulmate" themselves. My sister once told me, “People who believe in soulmates are more likely to break up and encounter more difficulty in their relationship, which will lead them to give up on one another eventually.”

I sure do believe that.

My mother is a prime example. Fumeiko Suna, my dear mother. Well, she clearly hasn’t found hers. I found out when I came home after a tedious day of school in 5th grade and found my dear mother on the floor crying, with bruises all over her face and a busted lip.

Initially, I thought a burglar had broken into our home once again, but if that were the case then there would’ve been missing furniture. But there wasn’t.

In fact, the place seemed cleaner than usual. When I ran up to her and asked her what had happened, there he was. The devil himself. My father. He reeked of alcohol, and I could detect his shadow towering over me. It’s funny how that I think of it. I used to fear that son of a bitch. Now, I’m way taller than him, and hate his guts. I turned around to see a faux-sympathetic smile plastered on his face.

He explained how my mother was being “clumsy” and had fell and busted her lip on one of the corners of the kitchen table and when I turned back around to face my mother, she smiled gently and nodded in agreement. She didn’t say anything after that.

It was then I realized my father had beat my mother to a pulp.

Long story short, when I found it was my father, sure, I was frightened. In fact, I remember going into my siblings’ rooms to inform them, they shrugged it off and told me that dad had been doing it for a while now.

Over time, when my dad had found out that I was aware, he didn't mind beating the absolute shit out of my mother in front of all three of us. This was when my burning hatred for that man started. Nobody in the house even attempted to stop him. I did a few times, though. He took all his anger out on me. At least my mom had a break for the day.

I almost pitied my mother. Almost. Maybe if she was strong enough to leave him, then yeah, I’d feel bad. But she still decides to stay with his sorry ass. It’s pathetic. It’s unrequited love or whatever you call it. How could she still love that asshole?

I mean, I’m not even going to lie, I’m an asshole too, but I’m definitely not my dad. I would never want to be him. He’s not someone I looked up to, he doesn’t do anything inspirational. He’s a businessman. He travels the majority of the time, and I’m pretty sure my mom invites men over when he’s gone. I don’t care enough to find out. But if I ever hear some guy rearranging my mom’s guts, I’ll kill him. I don’t even blame my mother. What she’s doing is wrong, she knows it and so do both of my older siblings. But they don't seem to care so why should I?

Who knows why she just won’t leave him. Maybe it’s cause they don’t want to ruin how people view our “picture perfect” family. I wonder what they’d say. “I thought the Suna’s were the ideal family? I guess not.”

My dad would probably lose it if he heard that.

Both my mother and my father are the cause of this broken family of mine. They never fed me or any of my siblings the love we always desired when we were younger. They never came to any of my volleyball games when I was younger. They never applauded me for the little recitals we’d have in class in primary school. They were never even here for most of my childhood. They always put money first and left us with the housekeepers. Hell, the housekeepers probably know me better than my own parents.They failed as parents. I despise them for it. They’re most likely the reason I am the way I am, but to be honest?

I don’t give a fuck.

In fact, I should thank them! Because of how they “raised” me, i’m extremely blunt, which is why people respect me. I use the hatred I have for my family and take it out on people and no, I’m not proud of that. I may be a heartless asshole, but I like that people fear me. The hell? Does that make me a sadist? Either way, people know to never fuck with me cause I’d fuck their shit up. I’ve overheard many people say it’s ‘cause of my privilege. It probably is. Money can’t buy happiness, but it sure can buy you many other things.

If my parents were broke, I’d probably be expelled from school by now. Abuse of alcohol and drugs are forbidden on school property. I don’t even take them at school, I somewhat care about my education and health, but sometimes I just need to blow some steam. Even if I did, nobody’s gonna say shit since my dad is the head of Japan’s board of education. How did his ass even get there?

Call me lonely or cynical. Maybe I am. But how is that a bad thing? Why do people need a significant other to rely on? What, a soulmate is just going to turn my life upside down then suddenly bring me happiness? Pfft, I’m gonna need actual proof that shit like that still happens. I’ve only seen shit like that in fairy tale movies. It’s whatever, though. I can live with being alone. I’ve basically been alone my whole life and it isn’t as bad as people make it.

You loved the idea of having a soulmate. The thought of meeting someone who just understood you, accepted you for who you were, and most importantly, loved you excited you. You couldn’t wait to meet your soulmate.

But recently, you weren’t sure soulmates existed.

When your older sister, Akira, came into your room and burst into tears, it frightened you. Your older sister, the one who’d always provide you advice on relationships and how to keep one was in your room sobbing hysterically because hers hadn’t worked out.

“I just can't believe it,” she sobbed.

You couldn’t believe it either. Your sister had recently gotten engaged to her boyfriend of 9 years. They started dating at the age of 15 and managed to make things work out even after high school, and out of all those years of dating, they never broke up. Not even once.

They’d go on romantic dates on Saturdays and they’d always write love letters to one another every day, just to remind one another of how grateful they were to have each other in their lives. On Halloween, they’d dress up as fictional characters from TV shows and books and take cute selfies and bake a bunch of sweets. They’d invite you to come bake with them, but you would politely deny. You knew they were only offering so you wouldn’t feel left out, which you appreciated.

Of course, they’d argue every now and then, but at the end of the day, they always managed to talk things out. Oh to have a relationship like theirs. They were everything you wanted to have in a relationship and more.

“I really thought he was the one for me, y’know?” No, you don’t know. But that doesn't matter. What mattered was cheering your sister up.

“Maybe he wasn’t ‘the one’ Akira, and that’s okay! People come and go all the time, soulmates come and go all the time as well-”

“You still believe soulmates are real, huh?” she let out a humorless laugh and sniffed her nose, “What If I missed my one shot at love, Y/N? What if I lost my soulmate?”

That’s some deep shit.

Now that you think about it, were soulmates real? Soulmates come and go, yes, you’re aware of that, but even though they leave, it’s always temporary. Soulmates always find a way back to their other half, the piece that completes them.

Your dad never made it back to your mother.

He died in a car crash 5 years ago. Your mother and father had been arguing because she claimed your father was cheating on her since he wouldn’t let her check his phone.

You were 13 at the time. Your sister Akira was accompanying you in your room, listening to them arguing back and forth with one another. There was furniture flying across the room, glass breaking, and both of them throwing curses at each other. You were scared. They never argued in front of you and your sister. They'd bicker sometimes, but it was never anything too deep.

Eventually, your father had enough of your mother’s false accusations, and out of anger, he packed his things and left home. For weeks. It wasn’t until one of your uncles called your mother and broke the news. She didn’t take it very well.

Late 2012-early 2013.

Not many people came to your father’s funeral, his family didn’t like the fact that he and your mother were together, they said your mother was trouble, but your dad still stayed with her, even if that meant it would completely destroy the bond he had with his family. Now that’s true love, you had thought. Only your mother, Akira, the Sunas, your uncle, and you, of course, attended the funeral.

It hurt a lot. It hurt when your mother informed both your grandparents on your mother and father’s side and all they could do is put the blame on her. It hurt how they had claimed you, Akira and your mother were a hindrance to your dear father’s well-being. How could they be so cruel at a time like this?

That was the first time you ever questioned if soulmates were real. Maybe they fell in love at the wrong time? Who knows.

After your father’s passing, Fumiko Suna, your mother’s best friend, was there to help your family out financially. Your mother couldn’t even find the motivating to go to work. Your mother and Fumiko have been best friends since junior high, they’ve literally been inseparable ever since. In fact, after they both got married, they decided to live right next to each other.

Your mom didn’t cope with your father’s death very well; none of you did. But your mom had it the worst.

She would cope with alcohol and clubbing which would always result in her bringing different men home almost every night. You didn’t say much about it, you thought it would be selfish to since that’s what seemed to make your mother feel better about herself, but your sister hated it. She was already 19 and in college at the time, but when she visited and found out that your mother had basically been neglecting you, she was furious.

“Seriously, mom? This is what you’re gonna do while your 13-year-old daughter is in her room having a literal mental breakdown because of your childish behavior?” Your sister had barged into your mother’s room when she thought you were asleep, she was screaming loud.

“You’re interrupting something important, Akira. You know better than to-”

“Oh, shut the hell up mom. You’re the last person on earth to be saying shit like that.”

“Well, if you’re done, you can leave my room now. You’re being disrespectful, and this behavior is not tolerated!” Your mother was screaming now. The man in the bed covering his body under the covers and looking back and forth between Akira and your mother.

“Sakiya, maybe you should hear your daughter out-”

“Not now.” your mother scarcely interrupted the man, eye contact never leaving Akira. “Y/N has never complained about this when you were in college. She knows this is my way of coping, why can’t you understand that too!”

Akira scoffed. “So what, getting fucked by random strangers you find on the filthy streets is your way of coping? Getting wasted every damn night to the point where Y/N has to drag you up to bed is okay with you? Do you even know how much this is affecting Y/N? Did you even bother asking her how she felt? I hate breaking it to you mom, but you need serious help.”

“You selfish child!” Your mother screamed, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her body, getting up from the bed. “How dare you say that to your own mother?”

“I’m only telling the truth! If you’re the mother, then it’s your job to be taking care of Y/N, not neglecting her. When’s the last time you’ve engross in an actual conversation with her when you were fully sober?”

Your mother was silent. She quickly walked up to Akira and grabbed her by the hair and slammed her headfirst against the wall.

“You’ve got a big mouth! Maybe I should wash it with soap like I did back in the day, hm?” Akira was attempting to push her mother away, but she wouldn’t let go of her grip. The man that was still on your mother’s bed was in panic, yelling her name, which didn’t have any effect. He might as well stop.

"Look," Akira mumbled, struggling to get away from your mother's grip, "I know it's been hard ever since dad left-"

“Mom! Let go of her!” You cried from the door of her room.

All 3 adults froze and looked at your glassy eyes, mouths wide open.

“Hey, kiddo, I thought you were asleep?” Akira playfully said, your mother let go of Akira and crossed her arms then looked away from you.

“Well, I can't really go to sleep when there’s a bunch of adults yelling about my well-being,” you muttered incoherently. You quickly wiped the uncontrollable tears off your face and sighed.

“Honey,” your mom started, she walked slowly to you, carefully examined your face, and attempted to hug you, but you didn’t accept the offer which made your mother frown. She stopped walking until she was almost face to face with you and placed a hand on your shoulder gently. “Baby, your sister told me that you weren’t happy. Is this true?”

You looked away from her and stared dully at the floor, subtly shifting your feet, then you softly shook your head “no.”

“See Akira, Y/N is happy. So please stop stressing her out.” Your mother said through gritted teeth, then faced you once again. “Y/N honey, how about I go tuck you into bed, hm? I’m so sorry for the excessive noise that was caused.”

“Mom, how clueless can you be? Y/N looks miserable! It’s unhealthy for Y/N to be living-“

Slap.

Your mother just slapped Akira on the face.

“I know what’s best for my daughter! I am her mother! You are not the one who should be telling me how to take care of my own kid!”

“That’s enough, Sakiya.” a familiar voice said from the door.

“Fumeiko-“

“It’s fine. Sakiya, we need to talk.” It was Fumeiko Suna, your mother’s best friend, also known as your next door neighbor. She had been standing in the hallways the whole time, you didn’t even know she was there. Akira was the one who called her over.

That night your mother agreed to get help for her drinking problem. She was gone for 6 months. During those 6 months, the Suna’s took you in since Akira would be in college and you couldn’t have been more grateful.

You and Rintaro were the only kids in the house, being that you both were the same age and the others were in college. It was okay, they were all very polite, dinners were awkward, you could feel some sort of tension between the family but you didn’t pay any attention to it.

When your mom finally came back, it was awkward at first. She still seemed the same, loving and caring, just sober and free of alcohol. It was nice. You two spent the weekends bonding at the mall, watching a movie, or even getting your nails done. Eventually, she gained your trust back, and you couldn’t have been happier.

January 2017.

“Akira, don’t say that. You may not believe me now, but you are such an amazing person, don’t ever think you’ll never find love again. It’s all about having a positive mindset!” you said, thoughtfully stroking her hair as her head laid on your chest.

“I told you that.”

“You did,” you chuckled, “you should take your own advice.

“Oh, shut up!” you both laughed, and Akira let out a shaky sigh. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Of course, you don't need to thank me. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

— so this is one of the writings that i wrote in January 😭 it’s been in my drafts and i re-read it once and instantly hated it right after. if there’s any typos please tell me!!

— also i wanna apologize again for putting gmds on hiatus,, i feel so bad 😭 i wanna make it up to you guys but idk how so if you have suggestions pls tell me

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hazbbyhaz · 4 years ago

Text

sleepless || harry styles

twenty five

pairing: harry styles x OC

synopsis: the new girls first day

disclaimer: making fun of someone’s appearance

They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered

-F. Scott Fitzgerald

Avery entered the small café shivering from head to toe. It was raining cats and dogs outside, the light jacket she had thrown on in a rush was completely soaked. As agreed upon the previous day, she arrived half an hour early to work. She could hear Tom's distant chatter as she made her way behind the counter.

"Avery, there you are!" With a smile on his face, Tom rushed from the back office to where Avery is standing. Avery took note of how nervous and jumpy he was, almost on edge, and only a mere second later she understood why. Standing only a few feet away from her was the new girl. She looks very pretty, with her hair tied up in a french braid, her minimalist clothes, and her pearly white teeth adorned in her smile, she was the poster for the cafe's target audience. Young, hopeful, and high off of the feeling of being alive.

"This is Sarah," Tom walks towards the girl and gently nudges her towards Avery. "today is her trial run for the job. If she does well, she will get the position." He continues and Avery can feel her body go into flight mode. The uncontrollable thoughts and racing heart only a second away from taking over. What if she doesn’t take me seriously? What if she is so good that Tom fires me? What if- all of those thoughts cease as she hears Harry’s voice ring through her head. You’re okay, Ave. With his words repeating in her head like a mantra, she smiles at Sarah, takes a deep breath, and lets those other thoughts go with her exhale.

"Hey, I'm Avery. It’s really nice to meet you!" She extends out her hand to the girl in front of her, focusing all her concentration on stopping its incessant shaking,but instead of Sarah returning the gesture, she simply looks at her outstretched hand before turning her attention back to Tom.

"So. how often would I be working?"

With a sigh, Tom runs a nervous hand through his already ruffled hair. "We'd have to figure that out. During the week, Monday and Tuesday are the busiest, so it would probably be best for you both to work together. On the weekend we will definitely need two sets of hands on deck. As for the rest of the week, we will have to work that out once we get everything set in stone.”

She nods, letting her eyes roam through the room before retreating back to his figure. She looked at him as if she were waiting for something, like she was executing him to say something more. "Right... so Avery will be the one showing you around this morning! I have to make a few phone calls before we open up for the day... Avery?"

"Let's begin the tour!" She murmurs quickly. Avery links her hands behind her back to hide their shaking that has yet to stop. Tom sends her a thankful smile and disappears into the back room, leaving Sarah and Avery to the day's task.

"So... uhm... the first thing done every morning is to set up the floor, we need to put the chairs down around the tables.” Avery explains, her voice breaking after every few words. “Our outdoor seating is stacked in the back since… as you probably know, it is winter…”

Sarah does not move to do anything, opting to watch Avery clumsily remove the chairs from the tables. The sounds of the chairs being put onto the ground was, unknowingly, making Avery jump "And then I put the menus on the table and a little candle cause uhm… it adds a nice, comforting touch."

"You're very jumpy" Sarah’s comment comes off cross. With her arms crossed tightly over her chest and the look of near disgust on her face, she continues to stare Avery down, demanding some type of explanation.

"Pardon?"

"You're like..." The brunette proceeds to pull her shoulders up, recreating Avery's uptight posture and her quivering hands. "and you speak too quietly. I really can't understand you when you don't speak up."

"Sorry..." Even with Sarah complaining about her quiet voice, her apology came out in a whisper. She hoped, more than anything, that the girl would stop mimicking her. She couldn't stand looking at it. She couldn't stand it because she knew that it was accurate. She knew that she really looked like that, she knew it, and even she hated looking at it. How could anyone stand to look at her when she can’t even look at herself?

"What did you say?"

"I'm sorry." She repeats, this time a bit louder. With a sudden wave of tears, her vision is becoming blurred, and her words are beginning to shake. She has not been picked apart like this in a long time.

"Are you gonna cry?" Sarah asks, brows raised and a devilish smirk on her face. What is she trying to do? Why is she talking to me like this?

“I'm not. " Avery quickly wipes her eyes before retreating behind the main counter, starting to turn on the various coffee machines and checking over their delivery reports.

"Aren’t you supposed to be explaining what you are doing? That’s what Tom said, anyway. " Sarah questions, sitting down on a bar stool in front of Avery, resting her elbows on the counter.

"I’m sorry, but I am not in the mood anymore," She continues to face away from the girl, focusing her attention on putting their baked goods into their display windows.

"Oh, is someone upset?"

"Please stop talking to me like that!" Avery exclaims, but her voice is still so frail that the message holds no confidence. It was more of a plea than a real request.

"I just think someone your age should be able to handle things better. No need to get upset over a simple comment." Sarah shrugs, but before she can say anything else Tom comes back with a confident smile on his face. Avery assumes that his call went well. She’s glad that something did.

"Alright girls, how is everything coming along?" His gaze switches between the two, Sarah has a beaming smile on her face while Avery’s eyes are so focused on a report that she is sure she could burn a hole straight through it.

"Great!” Sarah grins, gracefully standing up. "Avery and I get along great. I hope you consider for me this job, I really adore this little café."

"Oh well that's great!" Tom smiles. "I will get back to you soon about the position. Have a good day!"

"Thank you so much! You both have a great day yourselves!" Sarah grins, shaking his hand. "It was really nice to meet you, Avery." She adds before grabbing her umbrella and walking out into the rain.

"So, what do you think? Did she get the hang of everything?" Tom asks, taking over Sarah's place and sitting down on one of the bar stools.

"She's really great, Tom." Avery could hear the hesitancy in her lie, but she was glad that Tom did not pick up on it.

"Great."

"One bite" Harry argues, taking the pizza piece out of the cardboard box and holding it out to Avery just to see her shake her head.

"I'm not hungry, Harry" She murmurs , sipping instead a bit of her peppermint tea and leaning back into the cushions of the sofa. The small lie fell from her lips without a second thought, but Harry noticed it right as the words hit his ears.

Seconds after her shift ended at the cafe, Avery was rushing out the door. More than eager to retreat back to the safety of her flat. She hadn't been settled for more than a minute before Harry was knocking on her door. The unannounced visitor had her on edge, but opening the door to his calming figure holding a pizza box was a nice surprise.

"You need to eat something, Ave" He sighs, placing the piece back in the carton before sitting down next to her. The first thing Harry noticed after arriving at her flat was her demeanor. Her spirits seemed dimmed, her hands shakier than he liked, all the light had vanished from her eyes. Their dullness and pale tone of her skin made her look like that of a ghost.

At the party she had seemed fine, tired yes, but overall okay, and now she looked far from it. Harry immediately regrets the cup of coffee he brewed her the previous night, he had helped her with avoiding sleep. feeding into the problem that is so desperate for a solution.

"When was the last time you got a few decent hours of sleep?" He asks quietly.

"I'm not going to sleep," Harry reaches his arm towards her, trying to ground her, but she rose up from her spot on the couch too soon. His arm falling back to his side. He watched as she collected empty teacups, their saucers, and put them into the sink. As the faucet was turned on, sponge lathered in soap, Harry made his way to Avery's side.

"You need to sleep," He sighs, carefully placing a hand on her arm in an attempt to lead her away from the dishes.

"You look sick, love."

"I can't," She shakes his hand off, stepping back towards the sink. In a drowsy haze, she stumbled over her sock clad feet, almost hitting her head on the counter. Before she can comprehend what has happened, two arms lace themselves around her waist, gently pulling her into the safety of a warm chest. "please just leave. I’ll be okay."

Her pleas are softly shushed, Harry gently swaying them from side to side. With her back to his chest, Avery clings to his arms, her head falling to his shoulder.

"Look at me please...." His whispered request brings tears to Avery's tired eyes. She's too scared to look at him. To let him see her like this. She knows that once he looks at her he will insist on sleep. Part of her wants him to leave, solely because she won’t have to rest. So she can clean the few dishes in the sink, listen to the quiet murmurs of the TV set, and let her tears run freely. But she can’t, she knows that.

Harry can sense her quiet contemplation, so he gently turns her around, puts both his hands at the side of her face, making her look at him. His thumbs caressing the soft skin of her cheeks.

"I'll be right here next to you, okay? As soon as I notice there's something wrong I'll wake you up. I promise."

"You don't get it."

"No, I don't, but I'm trying. I just want to help you, Ave. This is not how you should deal with this... this is not how you should deal with your sadness." Harry whispers, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She looks shocked at his words, their honesty too loud to ignore.

"I'm not sad, not always."

"I know." He places a kiss on her forehead before pulling her small frame to his chest, still swaying.

"I don't want you to leave, Harry" Her arms tighten around him. "I didn't mean to say that."

"It's okay, we're fine."

Avery is the first to step back, glancing over the kitchen before grabbing Harry’s hand. She leads him over to the untuned piano, silently signalling for him to sit on the bench before laying across it herself, resting her head in his lap.

"Before we go to bed can you play me something on the piano? please?"

He smiles down at her, her tone holding a sense of innocence he had never heard from her before. One he assumes was taken away far too early.

"What song do you fancy hearing this late at night?"

"Anything you like, but with lyrics, please. I like your singing voice."

"I think that can be arranged."

As his fingers card over the keys so effortlessly, Avery blocks out all thoughts. Her mind free from any fear, any worry. Her only focus being his voice.

Today I met a woman, I don’t think you know...

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yandere-romanticaa · 4 years ago

Text

It was neck and neck, but this old man won! It's your time to shine daddy Lilia!

Yandere alphabet.

ft! Lilia Vanrouge. 💚

A - Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Lilia is very touchy feely and he makes sure that his arm is at least around your waist if he's close to you - he can't help himself, you're just that cute! And I wouldn't describe it as intense per say, just a tad suffocating. He'll leave you be if he sees that you really need it but chances are, the two of you will be glued by the hip.

B - Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

That's a tricky question because Lilia is quite hard to pin down. If he does create a mess no living soul would ever know unless he just flat out tells someone. Chances are, he probably won't even need to lift a finger - everyone knows who he is so there is no point for his hands to get dirty.

C - Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Ah, he'd be such a tease, downright cruel even. He'll taunt them for not paying attention to all the warning signs and red flags, actively gaslighting his darling in the process. His words cut deeper then any blade and darling will have to learn that the hard way.

D - Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Honestly? Not really, no. He wants his darling to come to him by their own will, even if it is twisted in the end. It really doesm't matter to him in the end though as their happily ever after is pretty much here.

E - Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

It would take Lilia some time to fully open up to his darling. He's used to being the caretaker, not the other way around. But once comfortable he will open up his heart.

F - Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Lilia would enjoy it a bit at first but if his darling keeps being persistent he will be very upset. Why can't they just live out their lives in love and peace...?

G - Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

He treats it as both a serious matter and a game at the same time. He's curious to see at how his darling will fall for it and despite him messing around he will toughen up if need be.

H - Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Probably the first time Lilia had tortured them. His knowlege of the human body is.... erie, shall we say...

I - Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Why, marriage of course! Lilia wants nothing more then to spend the rest of his days with his darling. Wouldn't that be a dream come true? Oh, he'd love a family, with lots and lots of kids! He'd be the best dad in the world, he can already see it! With his ambitions set in motion chances are that this will be happening sooner rather than later.

J - Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He says that he doesn't get jealous but really, that's just a lie. This old man just doesn't want to admit the fact that he fears that he may be boring to his darling and anything of the sorts. If he does get jealous, he just cuddles his darling until he gets better. The perfect payment, yes?

K - Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He's the same pretty much all the time, he's protective and affectionate, very sweet too! Just give him some love and he'll go away....~

L - Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Very old fashioned with a hint of playfulness. This old man knows exactly what strings to pull and there is no stopping him. Once his sight is set on his darling, it is endgame.

M - Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

He shows his true colours in a subtle way, no one really figures out what they are once it is too late.

N - Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Probably by taking away their privacy and then his punishments will get worse and worse. It really all depends on the severity of darling's crime and Lilia can get even stricter if need be...

O - Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

It all depends on darlings attitude. If they are kept line he will keep himself in line too.

P - Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Lilia's endless patience is downright disturbing. He is like a spider just waiting to snatch up his prey and then tear it apart with no remorse what so ever. It also helps that he has all the time in the world to deal with pretty much anything so in case his darling ever tries to pull something, Lilia will just figure something out and stop them.

Q - Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

No. He'd tell himself that he could handle it, that he was used to death, but he could never get past this. Lilia is probably going to cast some sort of spell on his darling to ensure that their souls are conected for the rest of their days. The poor old man just doesn't want his heart to be broken once more.

R - Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Guilt is something that Lilia almost never feels and that would be the case here as well. He is doing this for darlings well being, Lilia knows best! And he'd never let his darling go - once they're in his clutches, there is no getting out.

S - Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

If he is being honest with himself, he is not quite sure. He mostly blames it on his old age and the fact that he's seen so many humans dissapear in a flash, just like that. And if that were to happen to his beloved... He'd mourn for an eternity.

T - Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

A more sadistic side of him would enjoy such a display - please dear, don't stop. He likes to hear all the little noises you make, they're all just so adorable. ~

But if his darling starts giving him the cold shoulder, Lilia won't be happy about it. He'll poke them and scare them, until he can finally get some sort of reaction, even if it wasn't the one he wanted.

U -Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Well for one thing, he is a lot more creative and fun than your average yandere. He gets away with his obvious stalking and his comments go unnoticed by pretty much everyone, even his darling. His magic is also something to behold and any person that at least has half a braincell would know not to mess with Lilia. He may be small, but he really can be dangerous.

V - Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Despite his cheery exterior, Lilia never actually shows any weakness. That is mostly because his darling themselves are his prime time weakness, along with Silver, Malleus and Sebek of course. The only real way to hurt Lilia would be to hurt those three but let's be real, darling can't even approach them. The last thing to do in that situation would be if darling starts hurting themselves but Lilia would take all the sharp objects away the moment darling just pricks a finger.

W - Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

On purpose? Never. Out of necessity? Definitely. You see, all Lilia wants is for his darling to be happy, and how can they be happy if he is being cruel? He's torn over this, but there are times when he just has to put his foot down and remind his darling of their place, no matter how much it may hurt them.,

X - Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

His darling is pretty much family to him so he'd go to great lenghts to ensure darling's safety. As for winning them over, he can get pretty cheeky but his flirting mostly subtle, blink and you'll miss it, but it still has that long lasting affect of keeping darling up at night. Just like how Lilia wants it.

Y - Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Once Lilia realizes that he fell for someone he is going straight for the kill. You only get to live once, what is the point of hidding his affections? He will be a massive tease though~!

Z - Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

He does have a sadistic side but Lilia truly does not want to do this. He fell for his darling for a reason, he doesn't want them to just be a shell of their former selves. His ideal situation is that his darling remains mostly docile with just a hint of the rebellious fire he fell for in the first place. He can break his darling but he doesn't want to. So for everyone's sake, keep it that way.

Tags: @yourlittlerunt , @phantomness @pumpkiethepie, @twst-rose-prisms, @tsuisute, @delusional-obsessions, @teralavey, @minoux-x, @tiaragqueen

#yandere #yancore #twisted wonderland #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere alphabet #twst x reader #diasomnia #lilia vanrouge #yandere lilia vanrouge #yandere lilia vanrouge x reader

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tinyboxxtink · 4 years ago

Text

"Black Magic" *Part 4*

Whoooooo! Okay alright here's 4, I don't know if I can get 5 up tonight but at least you'll have the whole "day". [you'll see]

YA'LL enjoy this because....it's gonna come crashing down. I'm so sorry. Maybe I should leave it here tonight. Yeah I might.

Also-- WINK! When you see it you'll know. 😉

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@omgsuperstarg

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@gibbs274

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@objection-argumentative

@aprildecker-blog

@lolliepopsicle

@madamsnape921

@stars-trash-18

Part 3

Part 5

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

“Well!” he wiped tears away from his face and then yours before he gathered up your trash and threw it away. “ I think that's quite enough of the melodramatic stories today. Now it's time to show you my favorite place,”

He took your hands and let you further deeper into the park. You had never been this deep into Central Park before you don't think you'd ever actually been in Central Park, you've just passed it. You were kind of a shit New Yorker.

“Where are we going?” You asked as he pulled you faster down some steps until you reached what you could only describe as a “Cave”.

“You'll see,” he smiled as you approached the cave. You both walked inside and before you was something you never thought you'd see.

“Oh my god…” You said breathlessly. Are those…?”

“Penguins” You heard a smile in his voice as you stared. In front of you with a long glass tank encased in the stone. It was full of happy, smiling, swimming, penguins.

“How... why….why is this here?”

“Well the zoo is right next door.” He explained. “And they accidentally made the penguin exhibit about a foot outside of the zoo's zoning area. So, while it is technically part of the Central Park Zoo, this one area is completely free to the public. It beats paying $50.” He laughed.

“Penguins are my favorite,” you said softly as you just continued to stare at them. It was true. You loved penguins since you were a little girl and you had no idea why. They were just so cute.

“Mine too,” he smiled, taking his arms and pulling you into his chest from behind. They look so happy. And they're in little tuxedos. Which I highly approve of,” He joked. You giggled in response.

“I like to come here when I've had a really long day or a really bad day in court.” He continued to explain. “And just sit here and watch them; and imagine how much more enjoyable life would be as a penguin. Look at them they're so happy and carefree, not a worry in the world.”

“God wouldn’t that be nice,” You sighed. “No rent, no bills, no annoying job.” you have laughed, giving him a nudge

“And.. They are also monogamous,” He stopped laughing and turned you to face him.

“What?” You stopped laughing as well, giving him a stunned expression.

“Did you know that when a male penguin fancies a girl penguin he will look everywhere until he finds the perfect rock or pebble as an offering to said female. And if she accepts it, then they're together until they die.”

“So.. basically like an engagement ring,” You whispered. Oh god.. what was happening?

“Yeah I guess so they get engaged and married. Without the wedding of course.” He nodded.

“Can you imagine that? I mean they’d be pretty prepared already in their little tuxedos” you laughed, hopefully trying to change the subject getting away from marriage although you didn't really know how. “Rafael��”

Okay surely even if he was under this spell, was there kind of some kind of backstory? Did he think you had been together for a very long time? There's no way he was going to propose after one day was he?

“Don't worry carino, I'm not proposing. He laughed, noticing the panic in your eyes. "I'm not that crazy.”

“Right you laughed and nodded your head. “Of course. Because we've only known each other so shortly….?” You tried to ask in a leading way.

“Right. But if we're being totally honest,” he took your hands. “I think I fell in love with you the moment you walked in the door on your first day.”

You silently gasped.. Could that be true? Was that him making that up in his head? Did he have memories before today? Did he have real memories before today? How far did this thing go? Could he actually really be saying that? Your mind started swimming.

“I..” You looked into his eyes, searching for sincerity. Obviously it was there but you didn't know if it was fabricated or real. But any real form of sincerity was moot at this point. Right?

“Really?” Was all you could say back.

“Yeah,” he smiled while he stroked your hair. “Really,”

That was it you couldn't take this anymore. You Broke down crying once again, and threw your arms around him. You were holding him so tightly, as if he was going to disappear in front of your eyes any second.

“Please Don't leave me, you sobbed. “Please don't leave me,”

“Hey hey hey,” He took your arms and pulled you over to a bench in the cave. Then he sat you down and put both hands on your shoulders.” I'm not leaving you. I'm not going anywhere, okay? Never,”

“You can't say that,” You sobbed. You completely threw any thoughts of keeping this under wraps out the window.

"Why not?” He looked at you quizzically.

“Because….because this isn't real!!” You kept sobbing.

“What…? Baby you have to calm down,” He started getting really concerned.

“I….” You tried to find the words to explain it without sounding crazy. Then you realized it didn't matter.

“I...my roommate Chloe she's a...well she, she made this...stuff, that I put in your coffee yesterday and it made you think you're in love with me.” You realized you had said explanation a little too loudly, as the very few other people that were in the cave with you gave you strange looks and started to walk away. You looked at Rafael who was just staring at you in disbelief and confusion.

“What are you talking about?” He half laughed. Baby look I don't know what you think you did. But if you're talking about what I think you're talking about--- magic isn't real.”

“Yes it is!” You continued to sob. “I didn't believe it either. That's why I did it. I thought on the off chance maybe it would work but I didn't really think it worked like this” you gestured between the two of you.

“What, make an actual connection between us? Has anything you said to me today been a lie?”

“No” You started to calm yourself down.

“And I can promise you nothing I have done today has been a lie, or fabricated in any way,” He wiped the tears from your face.

“So again, I don't know what you think you did, but my feelings for you are real. The only magic here is the magic of true love,”

“See who says that?!” you cried angrily. “Nobody says that for real, Rafael. Not unless they're--”

“Under some kind of magic spell?” Rafael asked sarcastically

“This isn't funny!”

“Okay so what you're just saying is that tomorrow I'm going to wake up, and just think you're a normal girl and what? Think today was a fluke?”

“No.. you're not going to remember anything.”

“I really doubt that,”

“It's true! Why do you think I said back at Maria’s that I need you to hold on to this day? I need you to remember this day? I wasn’t just saying that to be cute.”

“Okay well I'm taking you seriously now. I'm committing this day to my memory this entire day even with your nutty little break down here.” He took both of your shoulders and looked at you seriously.

“Because I'm going to prove to you that this is not some kind of magic spell. It's me and you and our real feelings. I told you I fell in love with you the day I met you, that was before today. That was three months ago!”

Could that be true? Could this have just fast forwarded the time that it would have taken you to get here? Is he really going to remember this?

“Okay” was all you could say.

“Okay.” He smiled, pulling you into him again and kissing your forehead while stroking your hair. “I'm never going to forget you Y/N. I could never forget you,”

“Okay,” you repeated, believing him a little more this time.

Rafael glanced at his phone. Oh God it's four fifteen already,”

“So…? Do you turn into a pumpkin at 5?” You joked.

“No but I did promise Olivia that I would drop off some paperwork. Do you mind?”

Oh God you really don't want to face Liv again, at the risk of exposing your secret. But what else could you do?

“Yeah I guess that's fine.” You shrugged.

It definitely was NOT fine.

-----

You walked into the NYPD police station nervously, as if you were a hooker doing a perp walk. You hoped that maybe since Raphael had calmed down maybe Olivia would just think this morning was a joke after all. You hoped he wouldn't say anything.

“Olivia!” He walked over to her desk and still had your hand in his.

“Hey Rafa.. what is this? I thought you weren't dating your intern?” She frowned.

“Oh I'm not ... Apparently I'm under her spell,” He laughed.

Oh my God oh my God oh my God what…. Why was he being so flippant about this? Oh God.

“...Excuse me?” She asked him seriously.

“Did you get her in on this Y/N? Pretend that she has no idea about us?” He asked you while still laughing. You wanted to crawl into a hole.

“I don't have any idea about-- didn't you say this morning that you were kidding?” Olivia looked at you angrily.

“What? I don't remember this morning.” Rafael looked confused.

Oh God maybe it was starting to wear off and then forget-me-nots were working oh God oh God oh god….

“What is wrong with you?” Olivia put both of her hands on her shoulders, then she looked at you. “Did you actually do something to him?

What? No, I didn't do anything!” You cried defensively, hoping she would back off.

“Liv back off she didn't do anything. Magic isn't real. What is wrong with you?” Rafael stood in front of you.

“Then explain how you feel right now???” Olivia crossed her arms.

“What are you talking about? We've been in love for months now!”

Oh shit. Oh GOD.WHAT?

“WHAT?” Olivia almost screamed.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to overeat like this." He gave her a look.

“Oh that is bullshit.” She spat, and then looked at you over his shoulder. “You did something to him and I will damn sure figure out what it is,”

“Liv you need to seriously back off,” Rafael increased the space between the two of you.

Liv nodded, but mouthed to you over his head with a whisper. “I am going to figure out what you did and you're going to pay.”

You gulped and looked at Rafael who was still glaring at Liv. “Look Olivia, you need to get over whatever thing you have for me and just let me be happy.”

That was it! That was why she was so upset about this. She was in love with him too. Oh God. You suddenly wondered how accessible that spell that Chloe did was.

“I.. you.. we…” She stammered. “Here's your warrant,” Rafael tossed some papers at her and walked out the door with your hand in his. You looked back at Liv who was still fuming. That can't be good.

----

“Can you believe the nerve of her?” He scoffed as you walked out.

“Yeah totally,” You laughed nervously.

“I'm sorry about her. She doesn't know when to stop beating a dead horse,” He sighed.

“So you know she's had a thing for you? And you've never had a thing for her?”

“I mean there was a time when we first met that I thought maybe something could happen. But too much time has passed and I don't feel that way about her anymore, but apparently she still does.” He shook his head.

“And besides whatever feelings I thought I had for her went out the window the moment I saw

you,” he smiled, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Oh I mean since this morning,” he teased. But you knew he was right on the money.

“Haha. Can we please not joke about it?” You asked dejectedly.

“I'm sorry carino. Let's go get some dinner huh? Forget about this?”

“Yes please” You smiled.

---

He took you to his favorite restaurant Forlini’s and you two had an amazing dinner laughing, talking and discussing Broadway shows.

"Wait so you saw RENT with the ORIGINAL cast?!"

"Yeah…." He lightly chuckled. "I know, I'm super old."

"Oh I wasn't going to say that at all. I was going to say you are so lucky!!!!” You squealed.

“So you've never seen a show on Broadway?” He asked.

“Well...when I first met Chloe she was working as a PA for one of the directors of a show that had just gone to Broadway. It didn't last very long; it wasn't that great of a show. Except for the leading actor in my opinion,”

“Oh really?” he looked at you curiously. “What show?”

“It was called “Leap Of Faith”, I think? It was based on some movie about some televangelist creep con man, who fell in love with the sheriff and his heart turned to gold or some lame-ass thing like that. You rolled your eyes

“Oh really was it that bad?” he laughed.

“I mean, the songs were good and like I said the leading man Raul Esparza was amazing,” You smiled as you sipped your wine.

“Raul Esparza? You know when I was younger, people used to say that I looked like him.” He chuckled as he sipped his scotch.

“Really?? Nah I don't see it. You're way more handsome,” you smiled.

You continued to have a fabulous dinner so fun and easy, you almost forgot it was all fantasy. Before you knew it, Rafael was walking you to your door.

"Well I had a fabulous 'last’ 24 hours with you mi amor,” Rafael smiled.

“Yeah.. me too,” you said sadly.

“You sure you don't want me to come in?” He asked you with mischievous eyes.

“No, you better not.” You wanted so badly to let him, but you didn't want tomorrow to be jarring for him.

"Oh right I might wake up tomorrow and forget where I am," he teased, tickling you. You laughed while he was doing it, but the pain of really knowing he was right knocked you right back to sadness.

"Well good night beautiful. I'll see you tomorrow" He grinned.

"Yeah…." You smiled sadly thinking "not like this,”

He kissed you gently, but you pulled him in for a deep long passionate kiss, desperately memorizing every detail. His tongue, his mouth, his hands, his smell, his skin on yours.

"Wow, I should be under spells more often he chuckled. He gave you one last small kiss, and you held onto his hands.

"....Baby I'll stay if you want me to, you don't have to be so sad," He stroked your hair and gave you a reassuring smile.

"No…" you shook your head silently chastising yourself. "Let him go," you said mentally.

"No it's ok I'll see you tomorrow" you have him the bravest smile you could.

"Ok. Maybe tomorrow when you see you were being silly I'll sleep over," he winked, walking down the hall.

You slowly shut the door and fell down the floor sobbing.

Chloe came running out of her bedroom to check on you.

"Aw honey…."

"I love him Chloe,” you sobbed. “I didn't know how much or even if I really did before today but I really love him.”

“Oh honey. I can make more right now, even a bigger batch so it'll last longer!” She offered.

NO you shook your head sternly. "That's not fair to him"

"Well….it might be,” She gave you a hopeful look.

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on,” She picked you up and dragged you to her room.

She sat you on her bed as she went and pulled an ancient looking book from her shelf. You read the cover: “The Grimoire.”

“I borrowed it from my friend Maggie,” She explained. “Basically it's a master list of spells,”

“And she just let you borrow this?” You gave her a suspicious look.

“I told her it was an emergency.”

“Really?”

“Well! It was. Of the heart. She gets it she’s an empath and a romantic,” She assured you. “Anyway!” She turned to a dog eared page.

“Read” it she instructed.

You read the page: “ ‘Emotion Magnifier’....what is this?”

“It's the spell I used on Rafael.” She smiled.

“...What?”

“It wasn't really a love spell per say,”. She explained. “Those are frowned upon in the witch community. Y'know free will and all,”

“Wait so this didn't mess with his free will?”

“No ma'am! It just magnifies whatever somebody already feels. You just have to zone in on what emotion you want to draw out. So I used amorous feelings on Rafael,”

“So...that means...what exactly…?” You wanted to make sure you understood what she was saying.

“Well since he went so insane this morning, it magnified some already pretty strong feelings for you.” She smiled

“WHAT?!”

Your mind was spinning. Had he really been telling the truth about falling in love with you the moment he saw you? Has this actually just sped up the process of your relationship? Why hasn't he ever said anything? You've never really talked. How was this possible?

"So...what you're saying is…"

"He was clearly already smitten with you darling," She grinned even bigger at you.

"Oh my god….oh my god!!!!" You squealed. Maybe...maybe those feelings would be stronger than any potion, maybe he would remember today.

You went to bed that night with a hopeful heart.

-----

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fanfiction #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction

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adsosfraser · 4 years ago

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The Stone’s Toll - Chapter Five

Read on AO3

Claire sat nursing her glass of expensive cognac. Neither of them initiated a conversation, preferring silence to the inevitable argument that would ensue.

It was Christmas Eve when she returned. Little over a month and a half in that soul leeching ward. Frank had decorated the house with holly, and ivy, and even some sprigs of mistletoe in an attempt for some normalcy.

“Claire, I’m sorry for what they did to you. I was angry at you. You not only chose to leave me once but twice over. You’d rather die than feel my touch. I wanted to feel anything but utter despair. I’m sorry it has taken me so long to return you home.” She offered no response.

“Do you have any idea just how difficult these last few months- past few years have been for me Claire? How utterly exhausting it has been to deal with your loss and then now this? I don’t wish to fight you on any of this. Let us have a civilised conversation please.”

“How hard it’s been for you!” Her mouth hung open in shock. “You think these past few months have just been a fucking picnic for me!” She stood in her anger and seethed at the fireplace, back turned from her husband.

“Of course not, but did you ever stop to consider how I’ve felt about anything?”

“Did you ever consider my feelings when you were sticking your cock into one of your students?! God, did you give me one of their diseases?” Shock plastered over his face. “Oh don’t act so surprised, I’ve smelt the perfume and all those long nights at your ‘office’.”

“Claire, be reasonable. You’ve only let me touch you once, and that was before I was intimate with anyone else. Not all of us are such mendacious sluts.”

“Oh and I’m sure you were an exemplary student of abstinence while I was ‘missing’, for fuck’s sake even during the war, because clearly me being the ‘mendacious slut’ that I am I wasn’t entirely faithful either!”

“I don’t wish to fight you anymore Claire, something has recently come upon my knowledge during my research, and it affects you. Please have a seat.” He gestured to the decanter on the side table and poured a glass for her.

“It pains me to see you like this Claire. I can’t in good conscience force you to stay here and slip further and further away from me every day” Frank sucked in a breath and smoothed his hands over his thighs. “It angered me to see that you’d rather die... than be with me. That you chose his memory over me, a living, breathing human being, and I couldn’t even be sure he was real. Still can't. Can you not see Claire why it took me a while to finally decide upon your release?”

The hazy buzz that normally surrounded her mind now had started to fade, if only slightly. Claire squinted at Frank and nodded.

He paused, calculating his next words.

“I’ve done some research with the Reverend. We’ve been in communication since you’ve told me what happened.”

Frank adjusted his collar. He stared at the stack of papers to his right on the desk.

“And well we certainly found evidence of your presence in the past, but there are other things.”

Claire stared straight through him, she didn’t need to worry about her glass face showing something wrong. She felt nothing. This confirmation made no difference for the hell she had been through. The numb feeling had taken a while to crawl over her body the past few months and she welcomed it. It felt better than the suffocating dread and grief she originally felt.

“I know I must let you go. Go to him I mean. It’s the least I can do for the pain I’ve inadvertently caused you, Claire. Please forgive me. It’s unbearable for me to live to see you this way, even if the alternative is to send you back.”

“He’s dead, Frank. They all are.” Her lips thinned into a line. “I have nothing to live for.”

She cringed at her last choice of words. She didn’t want to cause him unnecessary suffering. But she was too tired to lie, to protect him from such verbal blows.

“But Claire. He survived.” His white knuckles wrapped tightly around the armrest of the leather chair and he flexed his jaw. “This man, this Red Jamie was exonerated of his crimes, with a pardon from King George II himself. And his lands returned in reparation.”

“How-how can you tell me this? You know what I- God what you put me through. Why would you give me this hope?”

“I’ve also found one Alexander Malcolm and his,” he gulped, “wife Elizabeth Malcolm. But Claire, this is your hand on the document. A christening, where Elizabeth, where you’re stated as godmother in a church in Broch Mordha. But then there’s also this purchase of a croft on the Isle of Lewis, with the same signature as Alexander Malcolm.”

“Please, Claire, allow me to make amends for whatever part I’ve caused in your suffering. If there’s some piece, some knowledge I can give you, it would ease my mind considerably. I don’t wish for you to waste away before my eyes, for the rest of our days in resentment.” His lips tightened into a thin line. “I met someone while you were away. The new assistant under me at Harvard. I think,” he paused, “I think I love her as you love your Jamie. Let us divorce and I’ll give you what funds I have.”

“You’re just- okay with that?”

“Claire, you haven’t been my wife in years, not really.”

“So that’s just it? I offered divorce when I returned, and finally accept when you’ve damaged me. My mind, my soul!” He winced at the sight of circled bits of skin on her temples.

“And I am regrettably sorry, darling.” He reached for her hand and squeezed. “I know this is what you’ve wanted ever since you’ve returned. Please, let me make this easy on you. I have the banking number for what covers the divorce settlement. It should be enough to purchase a flight to London, and then I know the inheritance from your parents and uncle should help you on your way to Inverness.” He slid over a paper card to her, detailing the whereabouts of the money he was offering her. She kept her arms crossed tightly over her sternum, not wishing to take any charity from him.

“There's another thing. Your son, the name they said you called out in your sleep every night. I have this death certificate of one Fergus Claudel Fraser. Marked March in the year of our lord Seventeen Forty-Five.” Tears sprang in her dry eyes at the mention of him. He pulled out a sheet from the pile of papers he collected and shoved it over to her side of the table.

“Why are you doing this Frank?” She couldn’t bear this physical proof that she had left her son to die without her.

“Here is one Fergus Malcolm, on the Isle of Lewis, a year after his ‘death’ and you're on this too. Or rather your alter ego one Elizabeth Beauchamp Malcolm. If nothing else, will you not live for him? Even if the proof of him amounts to nothing, that he really did die at Culloden? Please, take the money, and the papers. I’m hoping it can ease my conscience from all the torture you’ve endured.”

The last thing Claire wanted to do was ease Frank’s ego. She wanted him to suffer. But here was a lifeline, a way out and back to her family. She would see Fergus again if fate allowed. Her mind would never allow her to comprehend the other piece of hope before her. The one sure thing she knew was Fergus, he had been whole and alive the last she saw him. And there was something urging her to him. A panicked urgency. Her mind flashed to the nights after her therapies, when his presence in her dreams was almost so real she could feel his touch after she woke. She quickly signed the paper he offered. Claire Elizabeth Fraser. The wet ink shined against the thick paper. His suffering would have to wait. Her fingers began to twist the gold band on her finger but Frank stopped her.

“No, keep it. It will have value when you… return. The papers will be sorted by the time you’re gone, and we’ll both be free.” He swallowed sharply. “Know this Claire. I still love you, and I always will.”

He had a funny way of showing it, Claire thought. She didn’t dignify his statement with a response. She left him in the living room to pack, and as the sun rose the next morning her bed and dresser were empty.

Frank set aside some money for the divorce settlement into Claire’s own account. She withdrew the three hundred pounds without a second thought, and purchased a ticket to London. It barely covered the cost of a transatlantic flight, which was more of a luxury than anything, but she could afford to spend money, not time. A ship between would have lasted weeks, not hours. She was left with little over fifty pounds to find her way to Inverness. The only things she carried with her were her pearls, sgian dubh, the ring without its ruby stone, the copious amount of papers from Frank’s research, her old botany pocketbook, and a change of clothes, all packed into one small suitcase. Her things barely fit half the space inside it. The gold band hung around her neck on a chain now, instead of resting comfortably on her left ring finger. It clanged against the skin between her breasts with every sway of her steps. It was decided over a very pricey international phone call, she would go see Mrs. Graham.

#claire beauchamp #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #fergus fraser #outlander fanfiction #adsofraser writing #craigh na dun #canon divergence #divorce #frank randall #outlander fanfic

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straykidsworldwild · 4 years ago

Text

Duskwood

Phil Hawkins x MC

Part 2 (1/2) : MC goes to work and a certain boy comes to meet her for lunch.

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

Heyy guys! Here's a piece of part2. It was too long to put the whole thing on Tumblr at once (apparently) so I had to cut it in half 🙈 (2/2) is coming!!

(I just made the collage. Credits go to the creators of Duskwood and the owners of the pics.)

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

I slowly wake up, feeling and hearing something buzzing. With my eyes still closed, I slide my hand under the pillow next to mine to grab my phone. I hate waking up by alarms… It feels like I am being cut in my sleep. And I’m not going to lie… I love my sleep just as much as I love food. Who doesn’t? I open my eyes and turn the alarm off before quickly closing them again. I didn't sleep well last night… When I went to bed after texting Phil to tell him I got home fine, I couldn’t stop thinking about the discussion we had at his bar. Was I right to say “yes” for lunch tomorrow noon? Was he being serious? Is he playing a game? Am I falling in his net? I don’t know and I think that’s what terrifies me with him. I just don’t want to be his next hookup… If I start something, it’s for a serious relationship, not to play around. That’s not my thing. But that’s exactly what Phil does so… I guess I should just trust a little more myself. Anyway, that was just the first part of the night, because the next part, all I could do was think about my uncle. Every time I closed my eyes, I just recalled amazing moments with him. Moments that mom, he and I won’t ever have again… I laid on my back, on my sides, on the side… And I did this over and over until managing to fall asleep.

I turn on the lamp on my nightstand when I hear my phone suddenly buzzing again. But I turned it off… Oh! I grab my phone and answer the call after looking at the I.D. caller.

- Hey, mom, how are you? I just woke up… I tell my mother with a still sleepy voice as I sit on the side of my bed. The light is still too much so I close my eyes for a few seconds more. Suddenly, a noise coming from behind the phone call catches my attention. It’s not a noise I am used to hear her make... Mom? I call her with some concern.

- “He's gone…” I hear her simply whispering through the phone as another sound catches my attention again. Sobs… Mom is crying. I’ve heard my mother crying before. It’s so… Strange and heartbreaking. I mean, mom has always been that strong figure, fighting everyone coming in her way or in mine… But she never broke down before me.

- I know, mom. I'm so sorry. But… I begin to respond calmly, keeping the pain to myself. I’ve never heard nor seen my mom crying in my life. She’s all I have as a family and hearing her in such pain… It’s heartbreaking.

- "Can you come over today? I'll need you to finish the preparation of the funeral. I can't do this alone. And..." She interrupts me, sounding overwhelmed and submerged. I lower my head and keep a desperate sigh inside of me. I wish I could already be next to her and tell her to not worry. That she doesn’t have to do anything. That I will take care of this for her. But I can’t because of my dumbass boss… Unbelievable...

- I'd love to, mom, really. But I have to go to work, I begin to say, sounding sad and sorry for not being there for her. I hate it. I feel like I’m betraying my own mother. That I’m not giving her the support she needs right now. And maybe the one that I also need... But she knew uncle Alex for longer than I did so it’s fairer that I should be there for her... But once I'm out, I'll stop by your house to come help you, okay? So I can see you a little bit too, mom. I should finish at 3p.m. today, if my boss doesn't think otherwise, I tell her gently. Though, an unsure point is heard in my voice. We never know with my boss… If he had a bad day, he is capable of giving you two extra hours to do just because he wanted to.

- "You know, your uncle was always there for me. I remember when we were kids…" I frown with sadness to the sound of her voice. It’s broken… She sounds empty. Out of life. "There was this horrible kid terrorizing the youngsters. I was one of those kids being terrorized, but of course, as my big brother, he protected me. He always did. He was really protective, you know?" She recounts me in brief words with a trembling voice. I know the story by heart. Uncle Alex used to tell it to me as a bedtime story. He was the hero of course. I never doubt that… I hear mom sniffling and letting another sob out. "So was he with you, baby. He loved you as his own, you know?", oh… When she said "baby", her voice just completely broke. I could barely hear it. I continue to look down as I feel a lump forming in my throat. I miss Uncle Alex like crazy... "And he did the same when your father left..." She admits to me, going to the topic about how my uncle was protective. Which I already knew as well... It honestly hurts to hear all of this so soon after his tragic death. I still haven’t digested it. It’s still not real to me. I still think I will see him today or tomorrow or the day after tomorrow... But it seems to make mom feel better by saying those words to me, by recounting her memories. So, I'll listen carefully. Or I'll try, at least… If I don't break before too. Her pain is so profound… And shared.

- Mom, you don't have to tell me all of this now. Let some time pass. It's hurting you, I say with a slight pleading tone, hoping she will listen to me. I know it's hard to not think about it or to not want to talk about it. But I just think it's too soon for her. And for me... She can't turn the page in a finger snap. It’s impossible. Even if she feels like she did or she has to do it, it might not be the best way.

- "I love you, MC. You're my baby girl." She says over the phone, sniffling sadly again. I nod even though she doesn't see me. I am staring at the floor, my sight being blurry. Not again...

- I love you so much, mom, I reply to my mother, controlling my voice as much as possible despite the tight ball in my throat. She doesn’t need to know that I’m about to cry too. I hear her sniffling behind the phone call again followed by a new sob. I can't… Look, I have to go, mom, but I'll come see you later today, okay? I'll come with a little surprise, I tell her gently, wanting and feeling the need to cheer her up. I just want my mother to be happy again.

- "A surprise? You know I don't like surprises much, MC.", She replies with a mix between her crying and a faint chuckle before reminding me how she has always hated surprises. I know…

- That's why I'm bringing you one, I answer to my mom, cracking a smile to the sound of her faint chuckle.

- "You're a little Devil, just like your uncle... What's the surprise?" She begins to say before pausing. It's true, I got a little bit of him too. I guess it's because he sort of raised me and because I'm a (l/n) as well.

- Mom, if I tell you there would be no point for me to call it a surprise, wouldn't it? I answer with a gentle and playful tone before giggling. I hear her crying turning into giggles.

- "I tried. Okay, go to work, baby, and... I'll do a few things here... I'll try. Oh, and I ordered the flowers you asked me to pick for your uncle." She responds with another small chuckle before sniffling one more time. I smile a little more, glad to hear that I managed to make her smile a little bit despite the situation. She ordered the flowers… My smile grows a little more, glad about this news.

- Okay, call me if you need me for anything. Doesn't matter if I work or not, okay? I love you, mom, I reply sincerely to my mother, giving her a little cheerful tone.

- "I will. I love you too, baby. See you later.", She says back to me, sounding a little better then when I answered the phone. I smile and wait a few seconds before hanging up. Right… I feel like I have another long day coming… I let a long sigh out, as if I am trying to get rid of a weight on my shoulders, before wiping the tears in my eyes. Well, I've got to get ready...

Almost an hour later, I am on my way to work. Like every day, I see the same streets, the same cars, the same shops, the same streetlights… Of course, I am not going there with an ounce of motivation. I’d rather stay home or go anywhere else, but not there. I’m not saying being a waitress is the worst job, but my boss and some clients are actually really hard to deal with. Anyway…

I rapidly reach the back door of the restaurant I work at and enter the building which leads to the kitchen. The cooks and the waitresses are all here, ready to work. Oh, almost… I hold the door for Angie and she runs in, thanking me at the same time. We exchange a smile and get ready to start working. The clients should start coming soon… It's been three months since my boss decided to expand the restaurant to include a little coffee shop. I think it was a good idea, a good change in Duskwood. It was a test at first to see if people would like it. The clients seemed satisfied so that’s why I am here so early every morning now.

- MC! I look up immediately after hearing a gravelly voice yelling my name. My boss walks briskly towards me, a frown of madness plastered over his face. As usual... What time does my watch indicate? He asks me while showing me his watch on his right wrist. What…?

- 8:01am.? I answer, not sure where this is going.

- You were supposed to be here at 8:00a.m.. Not at 7:59a.m., not at 8:01a.m., but at 8:00a.m.! Is it so hard to understand in your dummy brain? He tells and asks me with madness, actually scolding me for arriving one minute late. As always, he raises his voice while talking, making sure everyone can hear who is commanding here. I guess you see what I meant when I said that I wasn’t very motivated to come to work...

- I'm sorry, boss, I simply say as I don’t want to argue nor lose my job. Well, it’s mainly that I’m not up to an argument right now… I have other things to think about. To worry about.

- Don't. Since you came late, you'll go home late. You're finishing at 6p.m. today, he tells me with a correcting tone, looking down on me. He’s joking, right? 6pm?

- What? You're making me do three extra hours for one minute late? I demand him with disbelief as I’m getting upset.

- And you're not paid for those, he points out seriously, still speaking as loud as before. Not paid?! Better and better...

- Sir, I can’t work extra hours today. I have to go see my mom this afternoon after work. My uncle passed away yesterday and I have to help for the funerals and… I explain to my boss with seriousness, going up against him. I mean, I can be shy and quiet and all, just don’t take me for an idiot or play with me.

- That's not a valuable excuse. Get to work before I change my mind and actually fire you for rebellion, he orders me seriously and sternly. Right… I look down, not responding to not receiving any consequences later. Everyone, back to work! he screams to all of his employees before walking away to do his life. Dick!

- Don't listen to this cold hearted dick, MC, I hear Angie telling me as she comes to stand in front of me. She’s a little taller than me. If you need to leave, then do. I'll cover for you. I knew something wasn't right yesterday but we barely crossed paths so I couldn't ask you what was wrong. I'm really sorry about your uncle, MC, she apologizes sincerely to me as she puts her hand on my shoulder. Angie is one of the only workers I get well along with here. Yeah, nothing goes well in this restaurant… It’s sad because it could have its potential. I smile at my friend while weakly nodding.

- Thanks, Angie, I thank her sincerely as I place my hand on top of hers. She smiles and nods back before the two of us take separated ways to go do our work.

The morning passed pretty quickly to be fair. I prefer when it’s like this. Working and watching the time pass is one of the worst feelings. There were so many clients this morning that I didn’t have time to get bored. It’s actually pretty rare that there are so many people coming in the morning. I mean, it’s still a little buzzy usually but not this much. I hope that will put my boss in a good mood and he’ll kind of forget the late minute thing this morning… Right, even I don’t believe this… I take the plates and cutleries that customers have left to clear the table. I clean it well and let other customers settle in. The noon hour and 1pm are the worst. There is often a line of customers waiting for a table but it goes on pretty well usually. Anyway… It’s time for my break. I put the dirty dish and cutleries in the bassin which is on a cart to later go to the kitchen.

- Hi, I turn around to look at the person who is not so unfamiliar to me, I'm looking for a pretty (h/c) with crazy (e/c) in which you would easily get lost in. Have you seen her around? says and asks me, a man, using a flirtatious and slight playful tone at the same time. I smile and softly laugh while nodding.

- Yeah, I think she went back to the kitchen a little while ago. But I don’t know where she went after, I reply playfully to my friend as I point towards the kitchen. The man softly laughs back before passing his hand in his long hair which isn't in a ponytail or a bun for once. How dare he look so good?

- How are you, Gorgeous? Asks me gently, Phil, as we are facing one another.

- I’m good. I have the same problem as last night, but I’m good. You? I answer with a very faint sigh as I keep a small smile before asking him.

- I'm good, thanks, he responds, having that damn smirk in the corner of his lips. The two of us stare at each other for a little moment, a smile on our face. I can’t really explain why or how, but seeing him here, now, like we said last night, makes me happy. So, is it still on for having lunch together or...? He asks me, a point of nervousness heard in his voice. He isn’t sure of himself which is so rare to see.

- Yes… I begin to tell him before hearing a gravelly voice calling for me.

- MC! I turn around and see my boss approaching us. Oh… No time for talking! Get back to work! He tells me harshly in front of Phil. Oh God… So awkward! I know I have said stories to my friends about my boss, but none of them actually saw the man talking to me that way. And I wish it wouldn’t have been Phil seeing and hearing him talking to me this way. What is he going to think?

- You're seriously letting that dumbass talking to you this way? I hear Phil whispering lowly in my ear. His deep voice echoing in my ear… He sounded like he couldn’t just believe what he just heard. Oh but it’s real, Phil… I live it every day like all the employees here.

- It's almost 1p.m., sir. I'm on my break… I begin to respond to my boss, not forgetting that I actually want to get out of work at 3p.m and not 6p.m. I still have hope… A faint one but, it’s still there.

- Break? He repeats my word with disbelief as he is standing right before my face now. No break for you today. Come on, move! He exclaims, speaking with a mad tone as usual. If I didn’t know him, I would think he actually hate me. Which might be the case… It’s not possible to scream so much on someone without reasons, right? Ugh, is that guy ever happy? Or just calm?

- Hey! I hear Phil’s loud voice coming from behind me before I could say anything to my boss. I slightly widened my eyes in surprise as I didn’t think Phil would say something. She's your employee, not your stooge! You should watch it! He tells him with a warning tone which I’ve never really heard before. The only time I heard him using this tone was when one of his regulars overstepped the line. I look on my left as I see Jessy’s brother standing next to me, slightly getting before me. Oh… He looks so mad.

- And who might you be to talk back to me? Questions, my boss to Phil. Oh no… I glance around us and notice that customers are staring at us, watching the scene. So awkward… Before Phil could do something or say a word, and mostly before it goes too far, I grab discreetly Phil’s wrist. He doesn’t move nor look at me. My boss is still staring at Jessy’s brother. He is not pleased at all...

- Look, sir. She's been working since 8:00a.m., and it's 1p.m. in less than five minutes. You can't take off her lunch break just because you're her boss, it's against the law. But if you think you are above them, maybe we could stop by the police station to see who's right? Responds calmly and politely, Phil, all while still having this warning and serious tone. I’ve always been amazed by how polite he can stay despite the circumstances or the situation. I mean, it’s easy to lose control due to anger, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he fights.

- 30minutes. No more, tells me, my boss, reluctantly giving me a break. Thanks to Phil… I nod positively before he turns around and leaves us at a quick pace. Phil turns around before looking down at me.

- Thanks, but you didn't have to do that, Phil, I thank him with a small shy tone, yet, thankful he actually stepped in for me.

- I did and I wanted to. But honestly, that guy deserved more than just a "talk", he replies with sincerity and seriousness. While talking about my boss, I could hear the madness in his voice. I nod understandingly as I give him a small smile, appreciating it for standing up for me. It’s not every day it happens. Come on, he suddenly tells me with his infectious smile. I don't answer. Instead, my smile grows wider while the two of us walk through the restaurant to reach the outside. Oh, he has a bag! How did I not see it?

#duskwood app #duskwood phil #duskwood game #duskwood mc #duskwood #duskwood jake #duskwood jessy #multifandom #phil x mc #phil hawkins #iamjake #phil duskwood

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kirah69 · 4 years ago

Text

Better Than New

Nogitsune/Stiles + pre-Steter + pre...

Summary: The nogitsune gave her a new body, but it wasn't like her old body. He had given her a parting gift.

Warnings: trans mtf character (Stiles), nogitsune, some angst, happy/open ending, Peter provides.

Words: 3510

[AO3 link]

The bandages kept piling up on the floor, damp with saliva. There was silence save for Stiles gasps and retching. When the end of the bandage fell to the floor, for a second or even less it felt like it was all over at last. An instant of relief until black smoke billowed from the bandages and something inside began to move. Everyone went on alert. What else could happen now?

A head began to emerge, pale skin with deep dark circles and long black hair. It was like seeing the girl from The Ring coming out of the television. Several weapons were pointed at her, everyone's attention focused on the stranger. Her brown eyes looked up, tearful and terrified, tired, pleading and confused. Someone recognized her and called her name. The wariness turned to worry and confusion. They stopped retreating and approached her. They helped her out of the bandages, asking all once if she was okay, what had happened, what was going on, in an almost unrecognizable cacophony.

When they remembered the other Stiles and looked around them, he was gone. Lydia too. Chaos broke out again. They all ran after the nogitsune and his new hostage, and only Melissa was left looking after her. Stiles couldn't move, she was exhausted both physically and mentally. Her body felt so strange and her mind felt half empty. She didn't know how she felt at that moment about anything, she didn't even have the energy to think about it.

“Honey.” Melissa put down the glass of milk that Stiles just drank on the nightstand. She twisted her hands in her lap as if she was gathering the courage for something. “What has... happened?” she asked in a whisper.

Stiles turned her head toward the wall. She didn't know what to answer, she still hadn't assimilated it. Melissa didn't ask any more.

As soon as she could get up, Stiles went home and locked herself in her room. She couldn't do anything now. They knew how to kill the nogitsune, and Stiles wouldn't be of any help to them, much less in the state she was in. She didn't even dare to look at herself in the mirror, maybe out of fear that it was just a dream or maybe that it was real. She covered herself with a thick sweatshirt and tied her hair in a ponytail with one of the threads she used for the crime board, tucking the end inside the sweatshirt.

Noah barely noticed in the darkness of the room when he visited to check on her. It was hard to notice the changes in the barely ten seconds he was there before going back to work. They still had a demon to catch.

When Stiles got a message saying they were done with the nogitsune, it wasn't relief that she felt, but she did allow herself to finally worry about what had happened to her. She pulled on the hood of her sweatshirt and headed to the loft in her jeep. She almost had an accident because she couldn't stop looking at herself in the rearview mirror. Her heart was beating so hard it was almost pounding in her ears, and she couldn't keep her hands still on the wheel. She was going to show it to someone, she was going to talk to someone about it for the first time, although she didn't know with whom. She wasn't sure who would be in the loft, although she could imagine it.

Stiles jumped out of the jeep as soon as she parked because she was afraid that if she thought about it, she would regret it and go home. Her body vibrated as she took the elevator up. (She had thought about going up the stairs, but she would have no air left when she got there.) She nervously adjusted her hood for a moment in front of the loft door. When she opened it, the only one there was Peter. He was the only one she really needed to see, so it was no problem.

“Stiles, what a surprise to see you here. I thought you'd be celebrating with your friends.” Peter barely looked up from his tablet for a second and went on with whatever he was doing.

“I don't think there's anything to celebrate,” she muttered, though the wolf could hear her perfectly. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you.”

That seemed to pique his interest.

“About what?” he asked, lowering the tablet.

Stiles took off her hood. She kept her gaze on the ground. At first, she didn't hear anything and then there was movement on the couch.

“I admit I thought my imagination had played a trick on me, but it was real,” he commented with curiosity in his voice.

Stiles shrugged. Yes, it was real, what could she say?

“Why?”

Stiles looked up. The wolf was in front of her, looking her up and down with interest. She was ready to answer, she expected that question from Peter, but his gaze made her nervous.

“A gift. He said it was a gift for having used my body. Not that it makes up for it, but I admit he's been very considerate,” she commented almost to herself.

“I suppose then you're not looking for a way to undo it.”

She was so grateful that he didn't say the obvious, she could almost cry.

“No, I just want to make sure there'll be no side effects and that... it'll be permanent.”

She was so afraid that it was not permanent, that she would blink and it would disappear, that she didn't dare to enjoy it. She was living a dream, not even in her wildest fantasies had she imagined such a thing, and she was terrified.

“I'm pretty sure it's permanent, and from what you say, it doesn't sound like it's a trap. Although I can't be sure of that, he's a nogitsune after all.”

“It's not a trap, I know that,” she answered confidently.

“You know?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I do know. He was in my mind and I was in his. He knows me as well as I know him. It wasn't a lie, I'm just afraid that now that they've killed him, his magic or whatever created this will disappear,” she explained, unable to control that edge of panic in her voice.

“We can investigate it. It'll be difficult to find anything specific about the nogitsune, though. But I think his magic is powerful enough to make it permanent,” Peter assured her with conviction. “Besides, he's not quite dead either, he's just trapped again.”

This time it was Stiles who looked at him in surprise.

“Trapped? They said...” She breathed a sigh of relief for the first time and most of the tension in her body melted away. Her shoulders relaxed and her legs nearly gave out. She dropped onto the couch and threw her head back. “I know I shouldn't be happy, but... it's...”

“You don't have to give any explanation about how you feel. Only you were there. Only you, and the nogitsune, know what happened in your head. You have the right to feel how you feel.”

Stiles raised her head somewhat surprised and didn't expect the soft smile on his face or the intense way he was looking at her.

“What?” she asked when Peter didn't stop looking at her, almost as if he wanted to pounce on her.

“Those clothes are pretty... terrible for a brand-new body. You should get something more appropriate.”

“Hey! These are my usual clothes!” she exclaimed a little offended.

“I know,” he replied almost as if it hurt.

Stiles blushed and twisted the hem of the sweatshirt in her hands.

“Um... You're... you're the only one who knows. I was hiding it until... well, until I knew it was permanent,” she explained a little nervously.

“All the more reason, this way you can make the big reveal looking your best. Or like this if that's what you prefer, but you can choose.”

“I-I don't have money for-.”

“My treat. Let's go.”

Peter grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. When he just walked away without stopping, Stiles got up in a hurry and ran after him. It was a bit strange having Peter riding shotgun in his car (she wondered how he used to move around the town, she had never seen his car, if he had one), although it was not the first time she had a Hale in her jeep.

The wolf glanced at her as she passed the Beacon Hills mall exit and continued into the neighboring town, but he said nothing. She was not yet ready to meet someone she knew with her new look. She hadn't even thought of an excuse for her sudden change, there was no treatment that would achieve such a radical change in such a short time.

Stiles stopped the car near the entrance to the mall. It was a weekday, so luckily there weren't too many people. She had no time to hesitate because Peter immediately got out of the car and headed for the doors. She used the wolf almost as a shield as they advanced, and Peter led her to the most expensive store in the entire mall. Just looking at the prices made her feel dizzy and somewhat uncomfortable, she shouldn't be in a place like that.

“We could go to...”

“It's my money, and I plan to spend it well,” he replied, almost reading her mind. “Now take your time, I'm in no rush. If you want advice, I'll be in the sitting area.”

Stiles had thought that he would stay by her side telling her what would fit her best, what was most appropriate, what matched and all that, but it made her feel good that Peter stayed in the sitting area and let her choose her own clothes.

After choosing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, Stiles thought she had finished the purchase, but Peter motioned for her to continue without even taking his eyes off his cell phone. After trying on several sizes to find hers, she ended up with three pants and five T-shirts, all of which were not very different from her usual clothes, but fitted to her new body (she liked her style and that wasn't going to change). She wanted to buy a skirt or a dress, but there she was completely lost.

“Do you need help?” Peter appeared behind her suddenly, and Stiles jumped.

“I'm going to put a bell on you,” she murmured. She was holding two dresses in her hands, but she couldn't make up her mind, she didn't even know if she liked either of them. “I have no idea about dresses, I've never... I didn't dare to...”

Peter took both dresses and put them back on the rack. He circled the racks a few times and came back with a dress that left her speechless. The body was black with a V-neck and a diagonal cut at the hip, with four white buttons on the left. The sleeves from elbow to wrist, a patch on the chest and the two-layered ruffled skirt were made of a white, red and black plaid fabric. It had enough plaid to fit her style and not too much to put Peter off. It was modern, casual, discreet (maybe in the future she would try something flashier, but not at the moment), she loved it. She looked at the label and it was just her size, which was surprising because she hadn't told him.

She went into the dressing room and when she came out, Peter was sitting there, like in one of those movie scenes where women tried on dress after dress and came out to show it off like it was a runway (they made it look super fun, but it was exhausting to try on clothes). Peter looked at her with an expression that made her blush. His eyes almost seemed to glow.

“Beautiful...” he murmured.

The blush on her cheeks became brighter, and she hurried back to the dressing room. Had Peter looked at her like this before? Was it because of her new body? Or did she realize it now because she was more aware of her body? Stiles would have to ask him directly if she wanted to find out, but she was not yet ready for the answer.

The total price was too much, but Peter didn't even blink, and Stiles didn't bother to say anything because the wolf wouldn't listen.

“Um, the entrance is on the other side,” she informed him as Peter headed in the opposite direction.

“Hairdresser first. That hair shouldn't be in a ponytail.”

Stiles frowned and touched her head wondering what he meant.

When the hairdresser asked her what she wanted, Stiles went blank.

“Just fix it,” Peter replied instead and turned to Stiles. “You'll have time to do whatever you want, but at least it has to be fixed. That guy doesn't know anything about haircuts.” He was talking about the nogitsune.

Stiles smiled and nodded.

The stylist offered to do her eyebrows and do some makeup, and Stiles agreed. Maybe she shouldn't say it herself, but the result looked pretty good. The hair with more volume still with her somewhat disheveled style, the eyeliner and some gloss on the lips. She looked at herself in the mirror and liked what she saw. For the first time she really liked herself.

This time she saw the wolf approaching in the mirror. Peter placed a hand on her back and looked at her reflection approvingly.

“You won't need the bite to become the most popular girl in the school,” he whispered almost in her ear.

This time she not only felt it but saw the blush blossom on her cheeks in the mirror. She snorted and turned around, she didn't want to keep seeing that silly expression she made with Peter around.

“I'm not unpopular because of my looks, I'm unpopular because of my personality, and that hasn't changed.”

Peter shrugged.

“Their loss.”

Stiles didn't know exactly what was that alleged loss, but she appreciated the encouragement.

She drove back to the loft and really meant to leave Peter there and go home, but she couldn't. She didn't know if her father would be there, she couldn't see him yet. What could she tell him? How was she going to explain this to him? What would he think of her? What would the others think? How was she going to tell them? What if they thought it was just a curse? What if they wanted to “help” her undo it?

“Stiles,” Peter called out to her, and it might not be the first time. Stiles lifted her head and stopped holding the wheel as if her life depended on it. “Do you want to go up?”

Stiles nodded. The wolf must have smelled her panic. She would be stinking at that time.

She took a deep breath and when his breathing returned to a more or less normal rhythm, she got out of the jeep. Peter took the bags (it was not an area to leave anything in the car) and accompanied her. When Stiles opened the loft door, the wolf dropped the bags and pulled out his claws, but before he could stop her, before the growl even left his lips, Stiles lunged at the figure in the middle of the loft that resembled her old appearance.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him with all her might. She was so happy that she couldn't hold back and began to cry. Her legs were shaking and Kuro held her as his lips pressed against her hair.

“Shh, I'm here, Mi-chan,” he whispered, stroking her back.

“I thought they'd killed you and then that you were trapped again,” she murmured against his shoulder without letting go of him.

“Please, they were very foolish to think that they could just trap me in a wooden box after absorbing so much magic. They really only know how to underestimate others.”

He lifted Stiles' face with one hand and gave her a tender kiss. Stiles sighed and smiled.

“I'm glad you're back. Oh.” Stiles remembered then that they weren't alone (as they were always in her mind). Peter was looking at them with his mouth parted and a shocked expression. It sure had to be weird if it had managed to surprise the wolf. “Um, Peter, this is Kuro, the nogitsune, and... well... he's not as bad as you think. There are many things that you guys don't know and many lies that Noshiko told you.”

She was doing it unconsciously, but she had placed herself between Kuro and Peter in a protective gesture. He didn't expect Peter to attack without further ado, without questions and without thinking. Others could, but not him. Still, she had already lost Kuro once and was afraid it would happen again.

Peter put his claws away and relaxed, at least on the surface. He approached with slow steps, trying not to look threatening, more for Stiles than for Kuro.

“Given Stiles' reaction, I'll say I'm glad to see you again in better circumstances,” he told Kuro with a polite smile.

“The smart boy. You have chosen well,” he told Stiles, nuzzling his cheek.

“Uh, I-I haven't...” she stammered nervously. She wasn't sure what he meant, but Kuro knew her mind better than anyone and more than once they had talked about Peter. She just hoped Kuro didn't say anything he shouldn't.

“Why are you wearing these clothes? Now you have boobs, I thought you'd want to show them off.”

“I don't want to show-. Ugh, we just came from buying clothes to... show off my new body.” It was useless to argue with someone who had been in her mind, much less Kuro.

“Great! Put it on, I want to see you,” he said almost like an excited child.

Stiles looked at him with narrowed eyes and a frown. She turned towards him a little without removing the arm that he still had around her shoulders.

“I can't just go around looking like this, people know me as a boy, they won't understand that now I'm suddenly a girl. There's no treatment that will achieve this overnight,” it sounded kind of desperate, and she felt like that. She still couldn't think of anything to explain this.

“Oh yeah, sometimes I forget,” Kuro muttered.

“What?” Stiles asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Human ignorance. But don't worry.” He pulled her close with his arm and gave her a long kiss. Stiles could feel the magic flow through her body. That feeling was no longer alien to her. “Done,” Kuro said with a satisfied smile when he pulled away.

“What did you do?” Stiles asked confused. She looked at her body, but she didn't see anything different, nor did she feel different.

“No one is going to question that you're a girl, for them you always have been a girl,” he answered with complete confidence. Stiles looked at Peter, but Peter shook his head. “It doesn't work with him, I figured you wouldn't mind. I can change it if you want?”

“No, no, it's fine.” She didn't care if it was Peter, he had reacted much better than she would expect from anyone.

“Then come on, it's about time for you to be yourself,” he told her.

Kuro shoved her toward the bags that were still on the floor and approached the wolf faster than Peter could react. He tried to control himself, but couldn't help the tension in his body when Kuro put an arm around his shoulders.

“And why don't you cook dinner for us in the meantime, little wolf?” Kuro asked or almost ordered him with his face very close to his, his breath brushing against his lips.

He looked like Stiles, like the old Stiles, but he didn't smell like her, he didn't speak like her, he didn't feel like her. It wasn't difficult in his mind to tell apart this Stiles from the real one.

“Kuro!” Stiles scolded him when he was about to kiss Peter.

Kuro grinned with sharp teeth without pulling away from the wolf.

“Of course, it'll be my pleasure,” replied the wolf.

It was Peter who gave him a kiss and left without letting him react. Stiles gaped looking behind the wolf and Kuro threw himself on her back, wrapping his arms around her.

“We're going to have so much fun, Mi-chan,” he whispered in her ear.

Maybe, at least Peter seemed willing.

* END? *

Ok, I may continue this fanfic, but that'd be after the one I'm working on. But I don't promise anything. Even so, I accept ideas for a future new chapter.

For the @transbingo : Coming out

#Steter #teen wolf #void stiles #stiles stilinski #peter hale #nogitsune #void #yaoi #slash #english fanfic #void/stiles #trans #trans character #shopping #fanfic #fanfiction #trans bingo

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pluto-fics · 4 years ago

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Promise (M)

One Shot | GrungeGuitarist!Jimin x Reader

(established relationship)

Genres: fluff, romance, smut

Rating: 18+ (M) for explicit sexual content

Word Count: 9,062 words

Warnings: tooth rotting sweet fluff, profanities, mild dirty talk, smut, light nipple play, dry humping, fingering:fem receiving, unprotected sex (stay safe), slight creampie, softdom!Jimin

A/N: This is a re-upload after I have taken down the original for editing purposes and strongly inspired by the 200414 MiniMoni VLive, because Jimin looked great and I’m weak for that man. You may need to see a dentist after reading this because this is pure teeth rotting fluff, my friends. Jimin is a true softie for (Y/N) here lol.

You still remember the first kiss you shared with him. That one night, when you met on the playground in your neighborhood, sitting beside eachother on the swings as Jimin told you about his big dream for the first time. He wants to succeed with his band. He dreams of a future as a well-known guitarist. And back then you had told him that you did not think of it as a silly wish. You believed in him back then when your teenage self agreed to stay by his side, and you still do to this day. This was also the moment in which he knew – he was madly in love with you.

Looking back on your last years of dating Jimin, you could not deny what a cliche rebel couple you were. Instead of asking you to prom, your boyfriend skipped the whole event with you and his bandmates to break into the football field of your school that night. But you did not regret it one bit. The memory of your friends chasing eachother on the field and lying in the grass to look up at the starry night sky was as vivid and precious to you as no other. That same night you saw the first shooting star of your life while holding Jimin’s hand and begging him to tell you what he had wished for. Yet, he never told you, to this day. Instead, he said “Let’s stay like this forever” and gave your hand a meaningful squeeze with the reflection of the stars above shining in his eyes.

His words from this night turned into a promise you both made and kept.

You were there for each one of his band’s gigs in small bars and scene clubs. You were there for many of their band practices, too. And now you are there to witness their first big breakthrough as the opening act to an increasingly popular indie band.

Holding Taehyung’s bass guitar, you watch his attempt to fix his hair. He must have applied half a can of hairspray by now and you doubt that even a single strand would budge during the show. However, Taehyung wants to be safe. “This is our big deal! The most important performance we have ever had yet!” He wants to give it his all, just like the other members.

You turn and look at Yoongi, who is sitting on the couch in the corner of the small dressing room while tapping his drumsticks onto his thighs in concentration. Having known him for as long as the other boys, you quickly realized that he is wearing his “lucky charm” – his signature worn out leather jacket. He wore it to their very first gig, wore it daily during finals week and he also wore it that fateful night you all skipped prom together. The memories place a nostalgic smile on your lips.

Meanwhile, Jeongguk keeps pacing around the room while mumbling the lyrics to their latest song. He may be the youngest of them all, but he is a real multi-talent. It's almost like magic, the way he is so damn good at everything if he just wants to succeed at it. Eyeing his guitar on its stand next to Jimin’s, you can't help but wonder where your boyfriend, the main guitarist of this band, has gone to. He had left the room about 20 minutes ago, saying he was going to the toilet real quick, but he has not returned since. “Thank you,” Taehyung smiles as he takes his bass from you. “Is Jimin still gone?” He then asks. Nodding, you already make your way to the door. “Yes, but I’ll go check up on him.

Striding through the cramped halls backstage, you make your way to the men’s toilets. And just when you raise your hand to knock on the door, it opens to reveal the man you have been looking for.

“(Y/N)?” He was clearly startled. You sigh in relief. “It’s been over twenty minutes, just what in the world were you doing in there?” you ask, sensing that something was wrong. Seeing the deep red tint on his bottom lip, you can already guess what he was doing. Biting his lip when he got nervous was one of his habits. And judging by how red it was, he must have been gnawing on it like crazy. Since he does not respond, very aware of how easily you could read him and his body language, you decide to ask straight away. “How bad is it?”

You almost see the heavy weight on his shoulders as he says “Very bad… Baby, I can’t mess this up. Not this time. It would ruin everything we’ve worked so hard for.” A compassionate smile finds its way to your lips. “You’re always worrying so much. Jimin, you’ll do great. I am one-hundred percent sure of that, alright?” Noticing the doubtful glimmer in his eyes, you continue “You’ve worked so hard for this very moment. Don’t dread it, enjoy it. When you guys go up on that stage, I want you to relish that moment. Because this is going to be the first time of many more to come.”

His lips slowly curve upwards as he nods slowly, “Alright.” You smile and pull him into a hug, feeling the fast rhythm of his heartbeat as he too holds you close. “No matter what’s going to happen, I am and will always be your biggest fan” you say. Chuckling, he moves a hand to gently cup your cheek and look at your face. “I know. Thank you for being here, (Y/N).” A second passes in which you smile at eachother, before he leans in to kiss you.

“Ugh, are you serious? We’ve only got ten minutes to go through the setlist before we go on stage, so move your ass back into the dressing room before it’s too late!”

The two of you immediately part at the sound of Yoongi’s aggravated voice behind you. You know that he did not mean to be rude, yet the sharp sound to his words really shocked you for a second. Seems like Jimin was not the only one who was nervous to the bone. You see Jimin sending you an apologetic smile before rushing after his hyung. Shaking your head, you make your way to the stage already, not planning to interfere in this special moment your boyfriend and friends would share right before the show now. You could still wish each one of them good luck when they go up there, after all.

From your spot next to the stage you had a perfect view not just on the boys, but on the audience as well. And you could not feel any prouder of your friends. They had introduced themselves a little awkwardly, but as soon as the chorus to their first song started the audience was going completely crazy. They loved it. And you could tell how much joy the boys felt in that moment.

As the songs got heavier, the movements of the crowd did the same. They even formed a small moshpit at some point and tried to shout along to repetitive phrases of the last song’s chorus.

It was clear that Jeongguk did not lie when he told the audience how much he loved them for being so welcoming and wild. And so did the rest of the boys, bright smiles painted on their sweat covered faces.

You almost could not believe your eyes as you watched them on stage. They looked like absolute rockstars already, the sweet boys you have known for such a long time suddenly looking so grown up. Finally, your eyes lock on your boyfriend, cooly jumping onto a platform at the front of the stage to play his solo. As he throws his head back while playing the longest note of his solo, you can see the sweat running down his neck and strands of his once well-styled hair sticking to his skin. In this moment, he looks like the very definition of ‘sinful’, reviving memories of the last time you had seen him like this － in a wholly different context. But these thoughts have to wait.

When they finally play the last tunes of their performance, the crowd cheers loudly – the sound of hundreds of people cheering for your friends and filling your heart with immense joy and pride. You too are cheering as they come down the stairs, sweat dripping from their brightly smiling faces. “That was incredible!” Taehyung exclaims with a voice of true ecstasy. Jeongguk nods, patting his friend’s shoulder as the two of them give you a high-five while passing you to get back to the dressing room. You greet Yoongi with a big grin and loud “You did amazing!”, happy to see him beaming one of his rarest gummy smiles back at you as he slings one arm around you in a rushed hug while thanking you before he follows the others.

The main act is already approaching to go on stage as you almost tackle Jimin the second he gets off of the stairs. “You were unbelievable! I told you you’d do well!” you cheer as he laughs wholeheartedly at your enthusiasm. “I feel like I’m in heaven, did I die on stage?” he asks as he hugs you tight, his entire body still trembling due to the rush of adrenaline.

You laugh and kiss his cheek, then his nose, honestly just aiming at random spots on his face as you do so. “I’m so proud of you, Jimin” you say as he’s grinning widely.

After a few minutes of basically shouting praises and cheers at one another and then making fun of Jeongguk for suddenly crying tears of happiness, the boys watched the concert from beside the stage with you. They even were asked back onto the stage for a few songs during the encore, which the audience clearly enjoyed just as much as the performance prior to that. On your way to the hotel you guys would stay at for the night, you checked the boys’ band profiles online and could not have been any prouder when you saw the follower counts continuously rising on each one of them.

The other band had invited your friends to an after party at the hotel’s bar and after an hour or so you decided to let them have this moment to themselves. Especially since you were already getting tired anyway. So you went to Jimin’s and your room instead. Honestly, you could not believe it yourself either. The four men you have been supporting for more than five years, basically since the day they decided to practice and start a band together, finally are so close to their goal.

You take a quick shower and wrap yourself in the hotel’s bathrobe before drying your hair and starting your basic skincare ritual in front of the mirror above the sink. As usual, you get lost in your thoughts while massaging the cleanser into your skin and rinsing it off, thinking about how much has changed within the past couple of years. You first met Jimin in high school, both of you being friends with your classmate Jeongguk and naturally meeting eachother at his parties or during lunch breaks. That was how you made friends with Taehyung and Yoongi, too. Even though you did not share any classes with even one of them, you became friendly with them very quickly.

This friendship held for many years. You graduated, went to college, shared many memories together – and here you are today.

While you were so lost in your thoughts and washing your face, you did not hear the door to your hotel room as someone entered. So when you come out of the bathroom, you nearly have a heart attack as you see someone rummaging through your boyfriend’s suitcase. Until you realize that it is Jimin himself. “Hey” you greet him casually, a little confused by why he is here and not with the others. Turning around, he beams a smile at you, greeting you back. “Did your after party end already?” you ask and take a seat on the edge of the bed as you watch him collect his sleepwear. “Not really” he says, “I just didn’t feel like staying much longer.”

You are about to ask if something had happened. But then Jimin already stands in front of you with a grin and kisses the top of your head, one of his hands dropping to your exposed thigh. His thumb is slowly rubbing circles into your skin as he looks you in the eyes. “And I thought we could celebrate in a different way tonight…”

There it is. That signature smirk on his lips as he awaits your reaction, just like the smirk he would send your way every now and then when he was on stage earlier. He knows that you like the attitude he holds on stage, that you watched him and his every move closely.

And quite frankly, this is not the first time you are feeling this way. After the boys’ very first gig you nearly jumped Jimin the second he came off stage. You would be embarrassed, but who could blame you? Whenever your sweet boyfriend steps on stage, it is as if he takes on a different persona. His cute eye smiles and giggles get replaced by a sinful smirk and bedroom eyes. Even the way he walks or pushes his hair back looks so different on stage in comparison to the man you know off stage.

You mirror his smirk as you nod and cup his face to pull him in. “Sounds great” you say before kissing Jimin and feeling the upcurve of his lips against your own. His hand on your thigh glides down to the back of your knee as his other hand softly pushes you down by your shoulder. He leans down to capture you against the mattress with your leg on his hip as the kiss grows heated.

Wearing only the flimsy bathrobe, you moan into the kiss when you feel his crotch moving into your own, the rough material of his ripped jeans eliciting a raw sensation against your exposed skin. Detaching his lips from yours, he moves on to your jaw and neck, following an imaginary trail as he leaves wet kisses on his way down. Your hands wind through his messy hair as the back of your raised thigh is being kneaded by his hand.

“Seems like you planned for this to happen tonight” he accuses you with a smirk before untying your robe, wanting to see your body that’s hidden underneath. “Tell me, did you enjoy today’s show?” You nod and help him with the knot in your belt. “Use your words, baby” he then says, stopping your hands by engulfing them with his as he looks at your face expectantly. “Yes. I enjoyed it a lot” you say, not trusting your voice with the way his dark eyes lock with yours.

He nods once, satisfied with your answer and places a kiss on your collarbone as he lets go of your hands and opens the robe. “Did you like my solo performance, too?” he asks, kissing down to the valley of your breasts and sinking his hips to yours again, pressing the prominent bulge in his jeans against your pulsing core. You sigh in pleasure as you whimper. “Yes. Very much.” Now kissing around your left nipple, he moves a hand to your other breast, stimulating your right bud by softly rubbing and twisting it between his fingers. Holding onto his shoulders and arching your back with a mewl, you press your chest to his lips and he sucks on your bud before licking around it. “What part of my performance did you like best, baby?” he asks, his voice nearly a whisper before he continues to work his magic on your sensitive chest. Moaning at the stimulation, you grind your hips against his and say “I liked it all… But your h-hip thrust during “Lie” nearly had me drooling.”

He chuckles and glances up at your face. “You mean this one?” He asks and pushes his clothed crotch into yours by re-enacting the skillful bodyroll he had shown on stage. You moan and nod, wishing for him to finally take off some of his clothes too. “Yes!”

Caressing your sides, he kisses down your stomach before sitting up and looking at your exposed body while licking his lips. "Just how much did you enjoy the show? Did you get wet?” His face does not look as playful as it did mere seconds ago. Instead, his gaze looked almost serious, yet filled with lust. Feeling your cheeks burn, you guess you must be bright red in the face as you avert your eyes and nod bashfully. “I couldn’t help it…” you admit quietly.

When you hear a rustling noise above you, you see Jimin pulling his shirt over his head, the delicate silver necklace with the letters of your name dangling from it getting caught in the fabric for a second, dropping the shirt somewhere near the bed before he leans down once again. His face now just a hair’s width away from yours, he doesn’t give you the chance to fully admire his toned body when he smirks. “If that turned you on already… Then how wet are you right now?” he asks, sounding as if he expects you to answer when his hand slides down your stomach, over your pelvis to where you wanted it most. You whimper at the soft touch of his fingers, your core feeling so sensitive after the rough thrusts of his jeans clad crotch.

“So wet. Just for you” you moan, remembering how much he likes to be reminded that he is the only one who ever makes you feel this way. Jimin likes to be in control during sex. He loves it when you're obedient, like you are his and his alone. Humming at your response, he slowly moves his fingers up and down your slit before drawing small but firm circles around your clit. Gasping for air at the sudden pleasure, you hold onto his arm. Nearly fearing that he might move it somewhere else if you don’t hold it in place. He knows your body like the back of his hand, as you do his. Both of you know every sensitive spot, every little mole and every trick on the other's body, understanding how to make the other feel good. “You’re such a good girl for me, huh? Only having eyes for me, getting this wet only for me…” His voice is deep and his fingers relentless as he stimulates your clit until your thighs begin to tremble. “Do you want me to make you cum like this, baby?” He asks you and inserts a finger into your dripping hole, his lips now next to your ear as he places a kiss on your temple. You moan louder, shaking your head. “No… I want more. Jimin, please!”

He smirks and adds another finger, scissoring and curling them inside of you. “More? How much more do you want?” He asks “More, like this?” and pumps them knuckles deep into your pulsing core before he adds a third finger, stretching you nicely and rubbing your walls to find the spot that has you seeing stars.

The moan of his name that leaves your lips sounds like a beautiful melody to Jimin’s ears as he kisses your cheek. “Please, Jimin! I need you. Need you so bad” you beg, desperately wishing for him to just fill you up with his cock instead.

His fingers push into your most sensitive spot, rubbing it with every following thrust of his fingers as it has you arching your back off the mattress and mewling in delight and frustration all at once. “Please, Jimin!” you repeat, clumsily trying to unbuckle his belt. Chuckling, he pecks your lips and whispers an “Ok” before pulling his fingers from you and locking eyes with you as he moves them to his mouth, sucking them clean one after the other with a low hum. Your breathing picks up as you watch him and you pull him closer by his shoulders. The feeling of his lips on yours is what occupies your mind completely as you share a messy but passionate kiss. Opening his belt and jeans before pushing all of it down his thighs, along with his boxer briefs, Jimin doesn't let off of your lips until the very last second.

You smile at your lovely boyfriend before following the trail of fading marks and bruises you had left on his neck two days ago down, only to swallow at the sight of his fully erect dick, the tip an angry red as it’s leaking pre-cum and the shaft a width that stretches you so deliciously every time. “Fuck” you groan as you drop your head back, craving the feeling of him inside you so bad, it’s ridiculous.

“Spread your legs for me, baby. I want to see you” you then hear Jimin say, as his hands already hold onto the back of your thighs to push them apart. You bite your lip in anticipation and open your legs wide, watching the way he takes in the sight. “Look at the mess you’ve made… And we’ve barely even gotten started …” he groans, watching you gush and clench around nothing in anticipation of what’s to come. He holds onto his shaft and moves it up and down your folds. A movement that has both of you sighing in pleasure. When he aligns his dick with your wet hole, he moves to hover above your face again and your arms wrap around his neck as he pushes into you slowly. Inch by inch, he stretches you further, the drawn-out moan leaving your throat and your clawing hands in his black hair a clear evidence of the blissful feeling it elicits.

“Fuck, you’re always so tight for me, baby. Feels so good” Jimin growls through his teeth, eyes closed as his forehead rests on yours. He is holding back the urge to fuck into you right from the start, you can tell. He bottoms out, dropping his head into the crook of your neck and waiting a second or two for you to get used to his size. When you move your legs to wrap around his hips, he gets the sign and slides out until only the tip is left inside before thrusting all the way back in. You moan in unison as he keeps up a steady rhythm, repeating this motion over and over again.

When his pace reaches a high, his hands move to your thighs, pushing them further up towards your chest to reach deeper into you. You release a broken moan of his name at that, feeling his dick deep inside you as he fills you with each of his thrusts. Sinfully wet sounds of skin hitting skin and your shared moans fill the room. “Shit, I’m getting close” he pants out inbetween lustful grunts and groans.

You nod, implying that you too are nearing the end, unable to use your words as the only sounds leaving your throat right now are euphoric moans and whimpers. Keeping up his fast rhythm, he moves a hand down inbetween you both to rub his thumb around your swollen clit in quick movements. “That’s it, cum for me (Y/N).” You almost shout out when you feel the coil in your lower belly snap as you come undone, your body shaking and your eyes rolling back to the point where all you see is white.

Riding out your orgasm, you feel Jimin holding on your waist tightly and increasing the pace of his now erratic thrusts until he cums with a broken moan, buried deep inside of you as he fills you with several spurts of white. Resting his head on your chest, he pants in synch with you as you both try to recover from your climax. Your hand glides through his hair on the back of his head mindlessly, caressing and massaging his skull until he moves to pull out and fall down beside you on the bed.

“Was this the kind of celebration you’ve been thinking of?” you ask, turning onto your side to cuddle into his bare chest. His arms instinctively wrap around you, holding you close and caressing your back. “No, this was better” he says with a cocky smile and kisses your forehead. “And so much better than any after party, too.”

You close your eyes as you listen to his heartbeat slowly going back to it’s normal pace. “I’m really proud of you, Jimin” you then mumble into his skin. He chuckles. “Did I fuck you that good?” Frowning and pinching his arm, you say “No!”, resulting in a genuine laugh from him. “I mean because you’re so close to fulfilling your biggest dream. You’ve come so far, baby.”

His amused smile becomes gentle as he nods and moves his hand to stroke your head, his hand smoothing down the nest that has formed on your head. “Do you remember the night on the football field?” he suddenly asks, his voice almost a whisper. Opening your eyes before you nod, you smile softly. “Of course…” Playing with a strand of your hair, he goes on. “That night, we saw a shooting star. And I wouldn’t tell you what I wished for.”

You grumble. “Yeah, I’m still curious.” Chuckling once again, Jimin says “Back then… I didn’t wish for our band to succeed. I didn’t wish for a chance as a musician. I didn’t wish for anything that I’d usually wish for.” Listening, you move your head to face Jimin. “All I asked for was for you to stay with me. All the way.”

Feeling the beating of your heart increasing in pace and your eyes starting to water, you were left speechless. “But then… We made that promise. I kept my wish from you, thinking it wouldn’t become true if I told you. That’s so ridiculous, isn’t it?” he says, smiling in shame when he realizes how superstitious this was. You shake your head, giggling quietly. “It is ridiculous, because you definitely wasted a chance for a wish there.” you say, looking him dead in the eye as he mocks offense. “I promised to stay with you forever. And I’m not one to break promises, ever.” Extending your pinky finger, you hold it up to your heads.

“Alright, same for me” Jimin smiles, now an amused curve to his lips rather than the bashful smile from before, and links his pinky with yours before refreshing the seal of your old promise with a kiss to your lips.

"You know... This is the cheesiest thing you have ever said after sex." you suddenly deadpan, grinning at your embarrassed boyfriend's blushing cheeks as you both break out into quiet giggles a second later.

Thank you for reading this One Shot. Let me know how you liked it!

Find more fics like this in my Masterlist and follow @pluto-fics to be updated about future uploads. Read you soon!

– Pluto 🌑

#bts #jimin #park jimin #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #reader input #reader #fluff #established relationship #au #grunge au #band au #guitarist jimin #pluto #oneshot #one shot #drabble

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monsoonblooms12 · 4 years ago

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Detectives By Chance: Chapter 4- Seeking and Chasing

A/N: Hi, how is everyone doing💫💛? I finally completed the 4th chapter, phew. I am really sorry for the delay, It has been some time ( a month to be precise). But I hope that you enjoy reading this💛. Thank you for all the love that you have given the earlier chapters and I love you all very much 💛

Thank you so very much @ohramsey for everything. I love you x infinite and I will miss you so much😭🤍❤

Series Summary: It was supposed to be a usual weekend for the four. Coffee, fun, friends and love. But an unexpected case changed their lives in a way they had never imagined. A mystery - a murder - many secrets… Will Ethan, Pooja, Alexandra and Mark, be able to survive? Or will the circumstances twist and break their lives forever?

Pairing: Ethan × f!MC (Dr. Pooja Sharma)

Disclaimer: PB owns most of the characters. I only own the OCs and my MC.

Word count: 2.3K

Triggers: Mentions of blood, murder

For Ethan and Pooja, a mutual day off was once in a blue moon thing. So whenever they had one, they would put the world out of their mind and remain engrossed in each other.

And now, after getting a cherished day off for the first time in at least one and a half months, they were sitting here scrutinizing the clues they had assembled from the crime scene.

They sat down on the couch, opened their laptops and kept auxiliary notebooks with them to note any admissible details they could find. Ethan took the three pieces of paper and stationed them down on the coffee table.

The first one was the third bloody note that Pooja had received.

It said: "Ahh, here you are. I knew, I knew you would come. You bastards are as obstinate as I am. But don't worry, I like it. So, did you like my pretty little portrayal that I had made for you? All this is just a sprinkle of my intuitive plan. The real game hasn't even begun yet. Just wait and be on your guard for my twisties and turnsies."

"Hasn't this person done enough? What the freaking hell does he want?" Pooja said, on the brink of tears. She was literally done with this pathetic game of blood.

Ethan hugged her tightly. "Calm down, Love. It hurts me to see you like this. We will find out everything. We will find this person, and we will make them compensate for their sins. I promise."

"Ethan, I love you so much. Please be with me ad infinitum." Pooja planted a featherlight kiss on Ethan's cheek.

"I will, Baby, I will, I love you too," Ethan assured her, while tenderly wiping off her tears.

"And... you don't have to use fancy terms to tell me to love you forever."

At this, Pooja let out a tee-hee.

After she had calmed down, they looked at the second piece of paper. It was a drug store receipt.

"Propofol?"

"If this is a receipt left-back by the murderer, then why Propofol, did they feel remorseful for Davis? " Pooja scoffed.

"Remorseful? I sure as hell that's not the case."

Pooja's question lingered in Ethan's mind. Why would, he thought, the murder make the patient unconscious? So that he doesn't shout?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Poke Poke. Pooja poked at his side, bringing him back to reality.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

" Just thinking about propofol."

" And what does the mind of the world-class diagnostician say about that?"

" As for now, it says nothing essential."

"But?"

"there is a what if."

"And that is?"

" What if the criminal is right in our plain sight?"

" So, as I understand, you are suggesting that the murder is someone-"

"From the hospital. It would be the easiest for a staff member to do everything, isn't it?"

" Hmmm. Although it is a stab in the dark, it is a pretty commendable reasoning. Good job Mr Mitter."

"Mr what?"

"You don't know Mr. Mitter??!! You need to catch up on your detective knowledge, Ramsey. We need to go on a mystery novel-reading spree, ASAP!"

"Don't you think that's just irrelevant to what we are discussing?"

"Excuse You! How the hell are mysteries irrelevant in a discussion of mysteries?"

Pooja made a phoney, angry face that made Ethan laugh.

" Okay, so number one you are looking ridiculous with that face and number two maybe, I agree with you, just a little."

"WAIT"

"Did you just... give in and agree with me? The Ethan freaking Ramsey accepted his defeat?"

"How is this def-"

"I will write about this day in golden letters in my autobiography."

"Autobiography?" Ethan was chuckling like an idiot.

"Hey, what do you think? I can't write an autobiography or what?"

"No, no, of course, you can! But I really wanna know if you are going to write about your escapades with Jenner or the sleep-talks you do all night. Or maybe about the variety of chocolate you like."

"ETHAN!"

"Okay Okay, I will stop. Let's look at the third bit of paper."

The third paper was a visiting card. Or something that looked like visiting card held together with a lot of tape. The name on it was too faded for them to interpret. However, they could make out the address and the designation which, surprisingly, was Dr.

All the lingers of laughter and joy from the previous exchange dispersed and seriousness took its place.

"So, this person is a doctor. Very Peculiar!" Pooja remarked.

"What about all this is not uncommon, Poo? Even if they are a doctor, why target you and Alex? How does this person even know you both?" Ethan said, a tinge of anger lingering in his tone.

Pooja absently fiddled with the card while suddenly something caught her eye. In tiny handwriting, the letters D.I.B.S.15. She presented it to Ethan.

"What is this supposed to mean?"

"It looks like some cryptic message to me. Maybe the murderer wrote it absently on this card. We need to infer its meaning. It can be crucial."

"Hmm. Seems, like we have a lot of investigation to do. But at first, let's note down the enigmas we need to find the answers of."

They grabbed a notebook and wrote down all the lingering inquiries and matters about which they were going to seek.

Who is Mr Davis? Why was he targeted?

Why did no one from his acquaintances never come to question about him?

Why did the murderer target Pooja and Alex? How does he know them?

How was the murder perpetrated?

The addresses

MedMinder Drug Store

D.I.B.S.15

"Ethan?"

"Hmm?"

"Should we call the medical store? They might have vital information about the person who bought their stuff."

"Sure they will, reckoning that the person who bought the stuff is the same as the one who murdered Mr Davis."

"Or, you know, we can go there. Like check out both the addresses personally? So many facts are not present on the 'net. We may find something worthwhile for the case or maybe, even find the mastermind?"

"I was contemplating the same thing. But I wanted to take Mark and Alex with us. After all, four brains are more dependable than two." Pooja snickered a little.

"Sure. I will shoot them both a text to meet us up after their shifts get over."

But there was no need to do that. When Pooja unplugged her phone from the charger, she saw their texts. Both of them had taken an off early and were en route to Ethan's penthouse.

After fifteen minutes, Mark and Alex arrived. Ethan and Pooja filled them up with everything they had come across.

Then they told them about their plan of visiting the two addresses.

"That would be incredible. But before that, you both should know the autopsy results." Mark said.

"The Autopsy result came?" Pooja asked.

"Yup, this morning. And guess what?"

"The cause of death is not the throat slit. It is Acute Cyanide Poisoning. The throat was slit afterwards." Alex informed them.

"What the hell?" Pooja remarked, wide-eyed.

"All this is so seriously messed up, isn't it?"

"The person has a medical history. They would know the dosage. Also, looking at the kind of criminal he is, it would not have been too difficult for him to arrange the cyanide." Ethan stated.

"But Why Mr. Davis? I don't understand" Alex queried curiously.

"Let's get going. I am sure we will get at least some of our answers from these two addresses."

The four grabbed their coats, took the three clues, packed their tab and set off. The first address on Lyon Avenue was not far from Ethan and Pooja's place.

They arrived there in ten minutes and spent another five minutes in searching the store.

The drug store was not very busy, dimly illuminated and smelt fusty.

The man at the counter didn't even notice them coming until,

"Ahm"

Ethan cleared his throat.

The man almost jumped out of his seat. Regaining his composure, he said, "How, ahem, How may I help you?"

"We need some information. Can you remember who was the person who bought these from you?" Pooja said, handing him the receipt.

"I am sorry, but information of our customers is confidential. We can not reveal it to anyone except security personals or family member."

Uh Oh. Now what? Nothing a sprinkle of drama can't resolve.

"Um, Actually the person who bought these from you was most probably my brother. And he is missing for the last three days. So we are searching for information which can lead up to him." Mark said.

Either The shopkeeper was disinterested in their explanation or whatever he said about confidentiality was a lie because he didn't question Mark. He just eyed him sceptically and revealed,

"It was four days ago. I don't remember quite well, but I can give you some information. It was a man of medium height, wearing a high collared black jacket. He wore sleek black sunglasses and a mask. He did not speak anything but handed me the list of items he needed.

He made his payment in cash. When I asked if he was a medical professional, he showed me his visiting card. The card seemed pretty old and unkempt, but the designation Dr. was visible. So I didn't think much and gave him his things. That's all I can recollect."

"Was the visiting card that he showed similar to this?" Ethan asked, presenting the visiting card they had.

"Let me see."

"Yup, the font does seem similar."

"Seems like this might be our man. Thank you very much for the information." Mark said before they started to exit the shop.

"Wait a sec." The man at the counter beckoned them.

They turned back.

"What is it?"

"I just remembered something. The man, he gave me an extra 20 bucks. When I informed him that he had given me extra cash, he gestured me to keep it. Also, when he was handing over the money, he folded up the left sleeve of his shirt, and there were numerous cut marks on it." The man at the counter told them.

The instant they heard about the cuts, they got the confirmation of their lingering suspicions.

This man was the murderer, and he was the one who was sending them the bloody notes.

The four thanked the man, and as a gesture of gratitude handed him some bucks. Then they left the shop and set off for their next destination.

Once seated back in the car, Pooja said, "So now we know that we are following the right person. Maybe the second address will tell us more."

"Mark, How did you deduce the murderer to be a man?" Alex asked.

"Just took a wild speculation. And because I have,"

Mark stopped.

"had a brother, that came out spontaneously." Mark's voice held traces of pain and brought out the confrontation among his thoughts.

But he quickly regained composure and said, "But thank god the guess was right. If not, we would be in a hell of a mess."

Mark laughed a bit, but his laughter sounded somewhat void.

For the rest of the journey, there was no conversation. A deafening muteness fell in the car, but no one tried to rip through it.

The journey to the second address took 20 minutes.

But they were a bit taken aback from the situation of the place.

It was a cryptic, morose part of the city, and it was awkward for a doctor to set up their practice here. In the entire street, darkness lurked. Flickers of light were visible in some of the houses.

Ethan, Pooja and Alex started to walk down the street slowly to locate the private clinic, but Mark stayed behind.

It was as if distasteful remembrances came to him, inundating him, due to the sight in front of him.

There was a glimmer of identification of the area in his eyes.

After walking a few steps, Alex realized that Mark was not with them.

At first, she began to panic, but when she turned around and saw Mark standing by the car, sighed in relaxation.

"MARK, MARK" Alex beckoned him.

Alex's voice caused Ethan and Pooja to turned around. They, too, detected Mark and the three started to pace towards the car.

"Mark, what happened?" Alex asked after arriving at the car, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Then she spotted the tears rolling down Mark's face.

Before she could say anything, Mark hugged her and broke into stringent sobs. His entire body was shuddering with every cry.

Ethan and Pooja quickly went beside him, trying to calm him down while Alex held him in her embrace.

"Mark, Honey, what happened? Is something wrong? Are you feeling unwell or something?" Alex asked, panic apparent in her voice.

Sensing her dread, Mark tried to regain his composure. And he succeeded a bit.

Breaking himself from Alex's embrace but holding her hand for strength, he levelled up. The other three looked at him, concern and curiosity both unambiguous on their faces.

"T-T-This place, I k-know this place." Mark began, voice trembling a bit.

"You do?" Pooja asked.

"Y-yup. This place, it endures as the beholder of the pain my family went through. All our sufferings, all our cries started here and ended h-here." Mark said, on the verge of tears.

"Mark, if you don't want to talk about it, it is okay, you don't have to," Ethan said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"N-No, I have to say this. I have to tell you."

Mark took a pause.

"T-T-This place is where m-my c-childhood home is."

The grief that we hide from the world, that we bury deep in our soul, when it comes out, it twists knives in a way that rips through all our soul leaving us as shredded as we were when we encountered it.

PS: This case had pulled strings which no one had expected. But will these strings tug the answers with them? This chapter feels like the beginning of the end. What do you think, is Mark's dilemma? What about Pooja's childhood? And what new challenge will the murderer place in front of them?

Every question will be answered and every Mystery will be solved. They might be Detectives by chance but their skills know no bound.

If you enjoyed the story, please like, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going 💕. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you have a great day ahead.💕💕

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outcast-thingz · 4 years ago

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Summary: Everything was going exactly like normal until.. it wasn't. The fear of loosing someone you never told you loved them, the pain of their cries when they can't hold you, and the loneliness of no one hearing you.

Pairing: Sugawara x coma reader

Warning:ANGST, Fire disaster, injury to reader, coma

Better Late Than Never

It was through Daichi that you had met the first starlight to change your life. The gentlest voice, softest eyes, kindest personality, and warmest embrace. You wish you'd never have to leave his arms. But alas friends you are and friends, perhaps, you will always be. It's a shame really, silver hair that shined as bright as stars, hazel, sometimes brown, eyes that seemed change with each mood, and none of it was yours. But oh how your heart soared upon hear his melodies to those smiling and giggling children; you and the children were equally entranced. It may have been your infatuation with him but he always seemed to be able to know what to say. And the way he-

"Y/n.. yy/nnn." A callous hand waved in front of your face. Your eyes blink rapidly with each open and close the vision of Sugawara fades.

"Hmm? I-I'm awake." You state as that floating feeling of spacing out is ripped from your grip. Daichi chuckles and shakes his head.

"You're lovestruck dazing pretty early today, Y/n." he starts the car, "We haven't even made it to the school area yet," he teases. You furrowed you brows and stare into your partners eye.

"Today's the day! I'm telling you! I'm gonna tell Koshi Sugawara how I feel and then you can finally stop teasing me about it!" You declare.

"Yeah? You're not going to wuss out?"

"You wound me Daichi, I thought we were partners. I thought you knew me better than to lie."

"Heh, you don't have to worry. He's not going to reject you." He knew exactly what you were hiding behind that determined face you plastered on.

Down the same roads on a sunny, fall morning. The leaves slowly falling to the ground when the gentle and chilly wind pushes them from their branches. So, of course, it would be that same luscious green grass fields, clean building walls decorated with kid's art, and giggling kids you expected to see when the two of you turned down the street. You expected to make the same pit stop along your patrol route you and Daichi had made for the past three years. Yet, around the corner layed chaos colored with red and orange hues. Despite everything you had been through and seen as a cop, your stomach dropped, churned, and leaped to your throat all at once. You had to be dreaming.. right? Right!?

"Y/N WAIT!" But Daichi was too late to stop you.

Your body moved with you realizing it. The car hadn't stopped moving yet but it seems your gut instincts could care less about that. You sprinted for the burning school ahead of you. There was one person on your mind but still you helped others get out. There was a loud crash down the hall from you. Upon inspection you found part of the roof had come down and blocked the doorway for one of the classrooms.

"Is anyone there!? Can anyone here me?" It almost stopped your heart right then and there.

"KOSHI!? I'M HERE KOSHI!!" You exclaimed.

"Y/n!!!" He yelled out sounding relieved, "go to the window that connects to this room! I can't break it because I have kids in my arms" you rush outside to the corresponding window.

"Back away from the window! Shield your eyes!!!" You instruct those inside the room. After a few moments as passed you break open the window and wipe the glass away. Seconds later Sugawara crawls out with two kids in his arms.

"There's three more. They got scared and hid in that room." He informs you. You nod your head and quickly make your way in. You found two of the three and lead them to the window where Suga helped out the window. "The last one is Thompson. Thompson! Come on buddy, we have to go now." Despite yelling this he still had a sweet tone.

It wasn't until a loud cracking sound from above startled everyone that you knew where Thompson was hiding. You open a floor cabinet that had yet to be touch by flames and there he was. He shook violently and to say he had ocean of tears rolling would be an understatement. You reached out your hand,

"Come on sweetie. I promise it will be okay." Despite your reassuring words the terrified child would not budge. Suga climbed in, reached out to the child and sang shakily to him in an attempt to coax him over. Another loud crack comes from above but it seemed Suga didn't notice. A sharp twang in your heart struck the moment your eyes met the ceiling.

'Any moment now.. I have to get ~Him~ out, i have to get them both out..'

The child crawled into Suga's arms. The creaking sound above weighed on your heart like a football field of cement. You mustered all the strength you had to lift the two of them up and run towards the window.

Cr-cr-crack, boom

You trip as part of the ceiling falls behind you. Sugawara and the children fly out from your arms.

"Y/NNN" He screams out while looking back at you. You use what little strength you have left to crawl towards him. He struggles to stand and coughs harshly but manages to set the child outside the window.

You smile seeing Daichi on the other side if the window ready to grab Suga and pull him to safety. ' I love you Koshi ' you mouth as you continue to try and crawl towards him. Daichi swoops his arms through the window and around Suga's waist.

"NO! NO NO NO! YYY/NNNNN!" He screams as he's pulled from the room. Daichi practically throws Sugawara away from the window. A firefighter who had arrived shortly after Daichi climbed in and was able to drag you partially out of the window before the room collapsed. You couldn't see, your eyelids were too heavy but you could hear. You wish you couldn't because the only thing that filled your ears was the harsh cries, screams, and coughs of the man you loved.

Despite having your eye closed you could hear everything around you. So you knew the doctors told everyone you may never wake from your coma. You also knew that everyday the man you loved would come in and update you on how everyone was and 'hope you can hear everything I'm saying..' Days pass and times seems to blend together as you wait for you body to wake from it's coma state. Each day you could feel yourself be able to move more and more. At first it was only finger twitches but soon enough you could shakily tap a gentle beat when Suga would sing to you. It seemed you were the only one who noticed your progress at first. When a nurse finally noticed doctors check your state again. The visits from Sugawara had stopped as the doctors monitored your increasing motor skills.

*a few months later*

By this point you could sit up mostly by yourself and open your eyes but it felt more comfortable to have them closed. At least when they're closed you can imagine Sugawara is by your side again. As if he had read your mind he showed up. You were surprised to wake to his voice.

"Y/n.. im so sorry. It should have been me.." His voice was hoarse like he'd been crying profusely before this.

'I need you know that heard you,, every word' you whine inside your head.

"I've waited way to long to say,, everything you mean to me.." his voices waivers slightly. Shaking hands take hold of one of yours. "In case you don't live forever let me tell you now…" he pauses before continuing in a shakier voice, "I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around." A heart breaking breath is taken in, "in case you don't live forever let me tell you the truth… I'm everything that I am because of you. I have hero whenever I need one" you hand twitches as a tear hits it and his breath hitches. You open your teary eyes half way to meet his. His lips quivering as you tell him in an equally hoarse voice,

"I just look up to you and I see one" He kisses your hand. You bring your other and over and use him to help yourself sit up.

"Y/n I-.. I'm a man 'cause you taught me to be one. You're the real hero.." his eyes never leave yours. You press your forehead against his.

"In case you don't live forever let me tell you now,, I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around.." you finish repeating his line from earlier. The two of you speak in hoarse voiced unison,

"In case you don't live forever let me tell the truth,, everything I a-am.." both of you close the space between your lips. Your tears mix together and fall atop you both of your intertwined hands. You both pull away slowly and speak in sync, "As long as I am here as I am… so are you" He places the sweetest kiss on your forehead. And the two of you just sit in each other's embrace until the doctors come back to check up on you.

The End

Tagglist: @squishytsukki @red-riot-rat @wow-she-a-h0e-for-aran @xsugarysweetsx @hurtbycanonthoughts @melodynee @bisexual-confusion (👉👈 I apologize if you didn't want to be tagged)

#angst #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #sugawara angst #haikyuu sugawara #sugawara x reader #coma reader #tw coma #Spotify

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Gimme Love, 8/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Oof! After this part, we have one more chapter. Things start to look a little bit better for Brie in this part of the story. Not completely, but she's getting there. Enjoy!

TW for this chapter: mental health mentions

2020

A week later, still no change on the Ed Sheeran thing. Launch day was just around the corner, and my nerves were wrecked. And Jujubee still hadn't spoken a word to me.

It was only morning time, and I hadn't even been awake for 5 minutes. Already so many things were playing in my mind.

I still hadn't reinstalled Messenger. So I had no idea whether Blair had replied or not. I really wanted to just forget about her already, but it was slow. I probably should have applied for counselling sessions with HR. I hired a lady a few years prior named Dela, and apparently, she was brilliant.

But therapy could wait until after the launch.

I had seen Jujubee at work a few more times, either making eye contact and looking away just as quick or trying to say hello at least. She'd just brush by.

I tried texting her but never received a reply. As much as she had pissed me off, I missed her. A lot.

"Hey, this is Jujubee. Leave a message."

Beep.

"Hey, Juju, it's me." I paused, struggling to figure out where to go from there, "Look, I...I know things are bad between you and me. But I...I don't want to lose you."

I couldn't think of what else to say.

'Please, talk to me?'

'You mean a lot to me.'

My silence was going on too long. "I...hope to see you at the prelaunch party...OK. Bye"

I hung up, burying my face in my pillow, feeling very pathetic. And because I was impatient, I thought to try reinstalling Messenger and try there.

Or was that too much? And did I really want to risk seeing a reply from a certain someone?

...Fuck it, I was doing it. I'd just ignore her. Yeah, I'd do that.

Blair: Wow. I didn't think…

I never clicked a message quicker. I sat up with my back against the headboard, eyes already reading the message.

Blair: Wow. I didn't think you'd actually reply! For sure, girl, we need to hang out! I'm in New York for two weeks anyway. Perfect timing, right? Give me a call as soon as you get this. TTYL.

"Oh my God." I let the phone slip into my lap. How was this real? How the fuck hadn't she found that message creepy? Were things starting to look up? I couldn't just leave her on read. It was sent last week, meaning she was still in New York.

Good. This was good.

But still, why didn't she address the confession to my feelings? Why was she avoiding the subject?

Sorry, you have to hear my innermost thoughts, all these questions. It just goes to show the whirlwind my head was experiencing.

Make a move, Brie.

My thumb hovered over the phone icon in the upper right corner. Do I just...do it?

Yes.

I clicked the button. It rang for a few seconds, the nerves telling me to just give up.

"Hello?"

Why the fuck do the people on the other end always say 'hello' like they didn't see who is calling them?

Why was I even thinking that?? Focus, Brie.

"Hi," I said.

"Wow, I didn't think you'd call." She sounded surprised.

"I'm sorry I keep doing this," I said too quickly. "Anyway, yes. Let's hang out."

There was a moment of silence, and I realised how panicked I sounded.

"Brianna, are you OK?" I heard the concern.

"What? Yeah! Of course, I am." I cleared my throat, "Just a bit...stressed out. Trying to...deal with this launch thingie and...deal with Ed Sheeran, I don't know," I laughed nervously before almost slapping some sense into myself, "I'm not majorly stressed out, though. I can still hang out."

She laughed. And fuck I realised just how much I missed it.

"You always made me laugh. You wanna grab a coffee?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Great! When are you free? I would say today, but I'm stuck with this thingie…" She replied.

And a thought hit me. "Actually... there's gonna be a party for my thing. It's for that project I told you about...back on Prom night, I don't know if you remember."

"Of course I do, Brie. I've been following all the media coverage. It's pretty awesome."

"You have been?" I sounded a little too excited and then reminded myself to not sound too desperate, "I mean, that's pretty cool. But yeah, there's a party the night before the launch. I could add you to the list."

"Yeah, of course! I'd love to come."

"Fantastic. I'll send you the details."

"Well, I'll leave you to it then."

"Thanks."

"I can't wait."

"Me too."

"Bye, Brianna."

"Bye, Blair."

She did the awkward half-spoken "bye, bye, bye," and hung up.

I threw my phone down onto my duvet and puffed out a breath of air.

"Yes!" I punched the air, "Yes. Fucking yes."

Shit was definitely looking up.

I found myself loading up my emails. "Dear Ed Sheeran, I appreciate your enthusiasm about participating in our project. However, after some thinking, we would love for you to perform at the event instead. This is strictly for your safety and the safety of everyone else. Sorry for the inconvenience. Kindest regards, Brianna Caldwell and team."

Sent. Easier than I thought.

No matter what the reply would be, I felt strong. Two problems down in less than ten minutes.

All that was left was Jujubee and Mom.

Fuck...the Mom problem.

It wasn't that I didn't love her. I adored the woman with all my heart. But I was still afraid of that recurring conversation, the memories of how I was a problem child. And if it wasn't that, it was my Grandpa.

Funny how those were always the recurring topics, things I didn't want to address. And now, on top of things, we were going to have to talk about Piggie's health.

I sent her money for his medical bills, so maybe things were different for him.

But still, the other topics of conversation I just wish we could avoid…If only there was something else to talk about...

Wait.

I stared at my phone and instantly became very still.

There was one subject that had gone unaddressed for so long - too long. Oh, God.

Half an hour later, I was in the kitchen, shaky hands pouring a cup of coffee. I couldn't call Mom immediately. I needed to will myself, build up my willpower.

After two cups, I found Mom's name in my phone book, hesitated to hit call but forced myself.

I breathed deeply, taking a seat at the breakfast counter and put the phone to my ear.

Ring...Ring...Ring...Ring…

She answered but was silent.

"Mom?" I spoke.

"Hey, honey." She sounded deflated.

"Did you get the money?" That was all I could think of to start with.

"Yeah. It's actually really helped. He's already showing improvement." She paused. "Thanks, baby."

It was painful how thankful she sounded, yet so miserable.

"Mom, I'm gonna come see you," I confirmed.

"Really?"

"Yeah." I smiled upon hearing how she lightened up. "I'm sorry about last week. My phone just...cut off, I guess."

I heard a sniff before she spoke again, "It's OK. When are you coming around?"

"Well, I got the launch this week, so maybe not now. How about 2 weeks?"

"Yeah, that's perfect. I have a job interview to prepare for anyway. I applied to this new boutique that opened in town. My interview is next week."

"That's great!" I was actually excited for her. Things weren't just looking up for me, it seemed. "I'm really happy for you."

"Yeah, me too. I'm not even nervous. Just ready to start working again. Anyway, how about you?"

"Actually, Mom…" I paused, squeezing my hand into a tight fist.

"What's wrong, Brianna?" She lowered her tone.

How did she know? I didn't even sound sad. Mothers intuition? Because I always thought that was bullshit. Like, if I was a Mom, I'd be the worst in picking up on things.

"You there?" Mom asked.

"Yeah, I just…" I licked my lips and swallowed. "Mom. Why was I adopted?" I sighed. "Why did they give me up, Mom?"

She was silent for a moment. I could practically feel how she turned cold. "It's time, isn't it?"

I nodded, not that she would see, "Yeah. I...I need to know."

"OK...How about we talk about that when you come here?" She asked.

"No. I...wanna know. I need to know." My voice cracked. "Or I won't be able to move on."

She's silent again…just for a moment. And I felt like I crossed a line.

But she spoke. I hadn't crossed any line.

"OK...Brianna? I just want you to know that I love you, and I always will. No matter what, I'll never stop loving you." Her own voice was cracking now. "When you came into my life, I never realised I could be so happy, how I felt when I met you. You were this...little light that brightened the dark...a reminder that life wasn't so bad. And I promised I'd give you the best life. I'd be the best parent you'd ever have." She paused again. And I knew she was crying. "Brie, it wasn't that your parents didn't want you. I'm sure they knew that they would have been the luckiest parents in the world." She was crying. "Brie. They...they went for a drive one night. And it was raining really bad. And they…"

She was silent. But I nodded slowly, my eyes just staring at the counter, glassy with tears. "I-I understand."

"I'm sorry, baby." She whimpered. "I should have told you this years ago. I...I didn't know it would affect you for this long. I'm such an idiot."

I held my forehead in my hand. "No. No, Mom. You're not. You had no idea." I sniffed.

"I know. I know. But I just...I...How do you tell a child something like that?"

"Don't worry about that, you idiot. I know now." One of the tears finally slid down my cheek. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Brianna."

I smiled, wiping the tear away. And then a quiet laugh escaped. "OK, I can't lie. I don't wanna leave you like this right now. Let's talk some shit or something."

She laughed in return. "God, you and your potty mouth."

#rpdr fanfiction #s10 #as5 #miz cracker #jujubee #blair st clair #blair x cracker #coming of age #hurt/comfort #lesbian au #high school au #angst #gimme love #grinder #tw mental health mentions

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