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mickyschumacher · 11 days ago

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[BAKED WITH LOVE!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you've never wanted to risk your friendship with oscar. but the lines become blurred when oscar shows up to your door on valentine's day with a bag of baking ingredients.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: fluff, poor humour, 10 things i hate about you reference, reader is kinda mean at the end but it's valid imo, oscar being absolutely useless in a kitchen format, classic friends to lovers barriers, confessions of two fools at the end as well

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: oscar piastri x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.9k

𝐀/𝐍: first fic of my series! me 🤝 oscar's and friends to lovers. hope you enjoy it!��︎ // as usual, poorly proofread

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Valentine’s Day. Fact: One of the most dreaded holidays in the world. Fact: Your most dreaded holiday in the world.

The argument was always the same. The holiday was consumeristic and materialistic at best, honing the potential to be one of capitalism’s best schemes. The holiday was also endearing, allowing couples, throuples, or any other romantic grouping, for that matter, to be celebrated and cherish. Love was love. And all love wins.

In this argument, however, you were right smack bang in the middle.

If you saw another stuffed teddy bear with its beady eyes and heart in hands, yes, you could throw up. But as much as you wanted to bleach your eyes out at the levels of PDA you had seen, a small part of you fawned over it.

Truth be told, the only thing you hated was the fact that you weren’t experiencing any of it. Sure, there were times where you went on the occasional Valentine’s date (not that you recommended it) but nothing ever lasted. And to be honest, your heart wasn’t in it. Your heart, with a mind of its own, had decided it belonged with a certain friend of yours.

You sighed, falling back first into your couch. You held your desk calendar high, eyeing the ‘14’ circled numerous times by you. Here you were, alone on Valentine’s Day, for the fourth year in a row, again.

“Fucking hell,” you murmured, tossing the harbinger of devastation to the side.

You looked around your apartment, only just holding in another sigh. It looked barren. Even though it was filled with paintings, books, and colourful furniture, nothing about it looked like someone was in love. It was as though it lacked soul.

It was decided. You were having an absolutely miserable morning. Even more so when you could hear your doorbell ring. The static of your intercom buzzed, capturing your attention. “Hello? Is a certain girl obsessed with chocolate home?” A familiar voice sung.

Pushing down the small flutter in your stomach, you dramatically groaned to the empty air in your apartment as you stood up. Walking over to your intercom, you eyed the video feedback of Oscar smiling and patiently waiting for you to let him in. You pressed the button on your intercom. “You better be coming bearing gifts.”

You could see Oscar feign a gasp. “I can’t believe you even asked,” he stated, arm dangling a mystery bag in the air.

You rolled your eyes, small smile playing on your lips. With your finger moving to a nearby button, you let him come up. Stalking back to your couch, you turned on your television, idly channel surfing. You weren’t quite sure why you were still playing for your TV box, but ever so occasionally, it brought you something charming.

Your eyes moved to the open door of your apartment, watching Oscar come in from your peripheral. “What is it you want, you absolute cretin?”

“That is not a kind thing to say on such a lovely day,” Oscar commented sarcastically, walking over to your kitchen to place his bag down.

You rested your cheek on your hand, laying on your side as you moved your eyes between Oscar and the television. “Well... to be fair, I wasn’t expecting your face on what you call such a ‘lovely’ day,” you retorted, thumb still clicking on the remote.

You weren’t exactly lying. Oscar was the last person you wanted to see on Valentine’s Day. He was another sore reminder of what you should be doing on a day like this. There was nothing more dangerous than having the person who makes your heart race in your kitchen. A recipe for disaster, one might say.

It was Oscar’s turn to sigh. He stood in your kitchen, hands on his hips. “Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine?” Oscar queried. “Sue me for wanting to spend time with my best friend on the loneliest day of the year.”

You sucked in a sharp breath at his words. Best friend. Ugh, you hated it. You hated that term. You didn’t want to be just his best friend. Risking this friendship, however, was not one you were willing to take.

You sighed dramatically once again, closing the television. Standing up from the couch, you joined Oscar to peer in his mystery bag. Carefully, you were able to quickly recognise the blocks of butter, eggs, icing sugar, chocolate, sprinkles, brown sugar...

“Are these baking ingredients?” You asked, looking over to Oscar.

Oscar grinned. “I know you don’t really like Valentine’s, so... I thought we could do some baking. Well, more like if you could teach me. I’ve been craving your chocolate cupcakes anyways.”

You blinked blankly. You weren’t sure how but your body felt warm all of a sudden. Your heart was beating just that bit faster.

Oscar knew you loved baking. It was one of your love languages. When you were happy, when you were sad, when you were overthinking and stressed... baking was always the answer.

“Oscar...” you started, “you know you don’t need an excuse to spend time with me, right?”

“Come on! Like I need an excuse to spend time with you,” Oscar said, gently nudging his arm with yours.

He laughed softly like the notion of your idea was crazy. Like your heart wasn’t beating uncontrollably. Like you weren’t forgetting the ability to breathe, let alone speak. And God, you hated it.

You cleared your throat, taking out the ingredients he brought from the bag. “Well, it seems like you brought at least half of the ingredients so well done,” you complimented with a small grin.

Laying out the items he brought, you began grabbing the rest from your pantry, collecting all the equipment needed on the way.

Oscar smiled, cheeks slightly reddening. “Thanks,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck as he watched you set out everything, clearly taking his idea on board. He silently took in the sight of you quietly getting into your element.

You looked so focused. He couldn’t hear what you were saying, probably something about the steps of making your cupcakes. And while he really should’ve been listening, he couldn’t help but fixate on your smile. The corners of your mouth upturned as you raved on about how your recipe was supposed to be a secret for a reason. He could see your smile in your eyes. You were happy. And God, he loved it.

“Oscar? Helloooo... earth to Oscar?” You waved your hand in front of his face, your soft laugh slowly dying out as he came back to reality, meeting your eyes. You swallowed hard. Why was he looking at you like that? Did you have something on your face?

Instinctively you reached out to find something but was met with relieving disappointment. “Uh, so as I was saying, the most important thing is to fill the cupcake liners halfway, okay? Not full. Halfway.”

“Halfway,” Oscar affirmed with a small nod. He clasped his hands and placed them on your benchtop. “Shall we get started?”

Time always seemed to fly by with Oscar. And yet it always felt slow in the best possible way. That was just the nature of spending time with him.

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as he took every single one of your instructions with careful attention. And although earnest in his endeavours, Oscar was absolutely useless in a kitchen.

“I said fold the mixture,” you complained, wincing at the lumpy brown goop of a mess, “That is not folding!”

Oscar looked up from the bowl, narrowing his eyes at you. “This is folding,” he retorted, proceeding to mix the cupcake mixture aggressively.

Before you knew it, bits of unbaked chocolate cupcake were flying in the air and over your face. The silence in your kitchen was deafening as the sound of Oscar resting the wooden spatula was resounding.

With your eyes shut, you sighed in defeat. Your fingers reached out to smear the cake batter across your lips and into your mouth. “Well, at least I know it tastes good.”

In the blink of an eye, Oscar grabbed the nearby tea towel, running it under some water. He stepped a bit too close to you for your liking. “I am so so sorry,” he apologised, gently propping your face in his hand as he slowly rubbed away the splotches of cupcake on your skin.

You kept quiet. You silently watched him cautiously clean your face meticulously. You weren’t sure if you could trust yourself to speak. Especially not if Oscar was barely a few centimetres away from you.

There were many things you admired about Oscar. His care for others. Or his detail to attention. Perhaps his smile that always seemed to brighten your day no matter what. Or the way he put others before himself. But one thing you always found yourself coming back to was his freckles. There weren’t many of them. They were sparsely spread out in such a way that you often found yourself playing connect the dots with them. And when you finished, it was all but inevitable to lose yourself in his eyes. To you, they were always these puppy brown eyes. But looking at him the way you were now...

“Your eyes have a little green in them,” you whispered.

Oscar paused, eyes flickering to meet yours. He stared at you what felt like forever. Every second that passed only increased your nerves. “Yeah?” He quietly quipped, voice soft as his eyes fell to your lips for a mere second.

Your breath hitched. God, he was beautiful.

“I–um, is the batter gone?” You asked, forcing yourself to avert your eyes. You let out a quick exhale as Oscar took a step back.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” he mumbled, giving you a tight smile.

Blowing some air into your cheeks, you eyed the cupcake-lined tray. “Should we fill these up and put them in the oven?”

“Halfway,” Oscar reminded, agreeing nonetheless.

━━━━━━━━━━━

You eyed Oscar comfortably lying on your couch, also participating in your channel surfing till how found some old cricket highlights of Australia vs Sri Lanka. You had already given him a cup of juice, some chips, and fruit to busy yourself and prevent yourself from overthinking about what happened earlier. However, you were beginning to find it very difficult.

Even as you sat on the floor horizontal to Oscar and did your laundry like you often did, you couldn’t help but replay the moment in your head.

You must’ve imagined Oscar looking at your lips. But you could’ve sworn... no. It must’ve been your mind playing tricks on you. The inescapable curse of Valentine’s Day. Fuck. Why did you even have to go and say he had green in his eyes? Stupid mouth.

You internally sighed, placing your folded sweater on the pile next to you. Your ears perked at the mention of your name. “Hmm?” You queried, grabbing a pair of jeans to fold.

Oscar looked over to you, leaning on his elbow. “I thought you were going out with Jake today?”

Ah yes. The actual truth of why you were boarded up in your apartment on Valentine’s Day. You had come close to breaking your lonely streak but you ended up backing out after having a mid-life crisis. From your experience, any relationship formed on a day bounded to cupids was bound to be short-lived.

“He cancelled and I agreed,” you shrugged, putting the jeans aside.

Now this peaked Oscar’s interest, having him sit up fully on the couch. “What? Why? What happened?” He asked a little too happily, brows mended to express his confusion.

Your mouth dried. What were you supposed to say? I just think Valentine’s Day brings perpetual doom?

You chewed on your bottom lip before releasing a small sigh. “I just wasn’t interested anymore,” you told him truthfully, resting your back on the front side of your chair comfortably.

“Why? You said he was nice and you had a lot in common?” Oscar reminded, now fully ignoring the cricket highlights.

You hated the small lump in your throat, a reminder of how much you hated when Oscar was invested in your love life. It was like he wanted you to date anyone but him. And it sucked.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “But he’s not...”

“He’s not...?” Oscar repeated.

He’s not you. That’s what you wanted to say.

Instead, you looked at him silently, taking in how intently he was listening to you. It made your heart flutter with a warmness and constrict with a sadness simultaneously. He cared for you. Just not in the way you wanted.

Oscar took your silence as a sign of not wanting to speak about it anymore. He sighed, sitting back into the couch. “Well, whatever. His loss. I’m glad you didn’t go.”

And there it was again. Oscar was always going around saying things that made you think and feel otherwise. He was glad? That on the loneliest day of the year, you were here alone, baking with your best friend which you also happened to be a little in love with?

"Oscar, why are you even here?” You asked, exasperation heavy in your voice as you looked at him tired eyes.

Oscar furrowed his brows, leaning up at your tone. “What do you mean?”

His tone wasn’t angry or humorous. It sounded like genuine confusion and that only irritated you that bit more.

“I mean here. In my apartment on Valentine’s Day?” You stressed. “I mean, has it ever occurred to you that we’ve spent more Valentine’s Days together than actually being with the people we’ve dated?”

Oscar pursed his lips together, mulling over your words. You were right. He couldn’t count the amount of Valentine’s or any other holiday he had spent with you on both hands let alone one. “What are you trying to say? You don’t like it?”

Yes. In fact, you hated it. Every year, it always meant it was another day you spent being just friends with him.

You let your head fall back onto the cushion of the couch. You stared hard at the ceiling, growing uncomfortable with the silence with every passing second. “I hate this,” you admitted after some time.

“Hate what?” Oscar asked with a frown making its way onto his face. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear what he was about to hear.

You swallowed hard. “I hate that I like you. A lot. I hate that I have to pretend not to like you every day.”

The silence only grew louder and it was almost deafening. You felt sick. You regretted saying anything at all.

“Same.”

“What?” You jerked your head to Oscar with an incredulous expression and kneaded brows. “What type of shitty response is that?”

Oscar looked at you with a flabbergasted look. “I...I–I feel the same way.”

You blinked blankly at him, making him sigh. He stood up from the couch, taking a seat next to you on the floor.

The hard yet soft look of Oscar’s puppy brown eyes made you want to look away and yet you found yourself staring back. He called your name softly, grabbing your hand gently with his. “I like you. More than you could ever imagine. I always just thought it would be stupid to risk our friendship so I tried pretending not to like you. That didn’t work. I actually think it made me fall in love with you. A little bit... or a lot.”

You weren't quite sure how to respond. You seemed to have lost the ability to speak. All you could think about was how flushed and sweaty you felt... and that Oscar freaking Piastri was in love with you.

“Can I kiss you?” Oscar murmured, leaning in ever so slowly.

You nodded silently, not trusting yourself to speak yet again.

You could feel his lips press against yours and God were they soft. You had thought about it more times than you probably should’ve. But the real thing was so much better.

You moved your lips, returning his kiss as his hands travelled up your jaw to your cheek. Fire. Your skin was on fire. You were melting into his grasp upon the feel of his touch. And yet, goosebumps littered every inch of your skin, making you shudder.

Hesitantly and unwillingly, you pulled apart from each other, letting your foreheads rest on each other. Your cheeks burned as you looked at Oscar, eyes flickering to each freckle before resting on the green in his eyes. “Osc,” you whispered.

“Mmm?” He queried, playing with your hands softly as he watched you process everything.

You planted a brief kiss to the corner of his lips. “I love you too.”

Oscar smiled widely, shoulders falling as though all the weight on them had been relieved. “I’m glad,” he commented.

“Sorry for being an asshole,” you mumbled sheepishly, a wave of embarrassment travelling over your body. You found it hard to believe you were even annoyed a couple minutes ago.

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “It’s okay.”

"I mean... for the record, I definitely wasn’t folding the batter,” Oscar admitted.

“Ha! I knew it!” You exclaimed, hitting him lightly on the arm. “You mix like Basil digging up dirt.”

Oscar’s small smile turned into a dramatic gasp. Preparing himself to attack you, he jokingly warned you, “Take that back.”

Timed perfectly, you heard the timer on your phone ring throughout your apartment. The smell of chocolate muffins wafted in the air. You stood up from the floor and turned to Oscar with a wide grin. “Ready to decorate?”

“As long as you let me decorate one cupcake,” he bargained, looking up at you as he held his hand out.

You smiled, clasping his hand to pull him up. “Deal.”

#mickyschumacher #micky's hand in heart series ❦#formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #oscar piastri fanfic #op81 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri

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aquamarixx · 3 months ago

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breaking the internet

chapter one after Bastard München's third loss, Hiori Yo finds a spark of hope in a warm, unexpected article by a cute keen-eyed journalist blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains slow slow slow burn, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader angst, fluff, very hiori yo centric piece masterlist

The locker room was thick with tension, the air heavy with the aftermath of another brutal defeat. Bastard München had just lost to Manshine City — the team considered the weakest in the league this season. It was their third consecutive loss and their unexpected poor performance has become the shock story of the season kickoff. They’d barely left the field but everyone can already hear the criticism in their heads, each biting comment more brutal than the last.

Isagi Yoichi, usually one of the level-headed players during these times of turmoil, lets out a frustrated groan as he tosses his sweat-soaked jersey into his locker.

“Can’t believe we lost again to Reo and Nagi, of all people.” he muttered, his voice laced with irritation.

“God, I wanna wipe that smug look on Chigiri’s pretty face. So annoying.” Even Kunigami himself can’t contain the disappointment he was feeling.

Murmurs of frustration filled the locker room, with each player coming to terms with the loss in their own way. Some stared blankly at the floor, others punched the lockers. But Hiori Yo, the team’s offensive midfielder, sat apart from them quietly in a corner.

His sunken eyes are glued to his tablet, focused on the screen before him. He’s replaying some of the match’s most critical moments, engrossed with dissecting their performance. The heavy feeling of frustration that sat at the bottom of his stomach only made him more fixated in figuring out what they’re doing wrong.

They didn’t play badly per se; they were just simply scattered, struggling to navigate the field without a commanding anchor like Michael Kaiser.

And it’s not like Manshine City outplayed them. They were only able to exploit those gaps between the seams in both Bastard Munchen’s offense and defense, allowing them to snatch their first victory of the season.

He sighs as he watches Nagi Seishirou effortlessly slip past them and score Manshine City’s winning goal just before the buzzer goes off.

The post-match debrief followed quickly. Coach Noel Noa entered the room, trailed closely by the team’s manager. The debrief was short and direct. Nothing that the players don’t know about. At this point, all they can do is let this pass and allow this frustration fuel them to do better and win the next match.

“This loss will sting. And the critics will only make it worse. They’ll amplify everything that went wrong.” Coach Noa’s voice was firm but calm as he warned.

“I’m not going to sugarcoat, it will be brutal. But remember, it’s a long season. Don’t let the noise get to you.”

Later that evening, Hiori returned to his apartment. Instead of diving right into the new Souls game he bought, he threw his duffel bag on his bed before sinking onto his couch. He pulled out his phone, deciding to “ego-surf” a bit.

Usually, he won’t scroll through the comments after a loss, knowing how unforgiving fans can be. And him being one of the more reserved players made him an easy target, with critics often pointing out the lack of “fire” in him compared to his fellow Blue Lock graduates.

But curiosity got the best of him tonight. He scrolled through the headlines, wincing at the relentless criticism pouring in.

“Is Bastard München all bark and no bite without superstar Michael Kaiser?”

“Noel Noa: Greatest striker of all time, wasted on Bastard München’s bench.”

“Blue Lock graduates fail to hold down the fort, leaving Bastard München struggling to fill Kaiser’s shoes.”

Some articles accused the team of riding on Kaiser’s coattails, while others declared that Bastard München had drawn the short stick from the Blue Lock project, forced to settle for “nobodies.”

Before he can continue, his phone vibrates to life with a message notification from his mom. And like clockwork, another message comes in from his dad. Despite being divorced, they’re still scarily in sync. For all the wrong reasons.

Bracing himself for yet another round of thinly-veiled criticism, Hiori opens his father’s message:

“Yo-kun, I saw your game. Hopefully your team can bounce back. You know, if you’d just put in the extra effort and stay focused, you could be the person Bastard München needs. I know you have it in you—just need to take it seriously.”

The words are meant to sound encouraging, but the expectation and judgment beneath them is all too familiar.

Then, another message pings from his mom. This time, there’s no critique or pressure. Instead, she’s sent a link to an article titled “Don’t Count Out Bastard München Yet—The Brains Behind Their Strategy Are Just Coming Into Focus,” along with a simple note:

“Hi Yo-kun, I hope you’ve had dinner. Thought this might make you feel a bit better.”

At least one of them is trying, despite their strained family dynamic.

He re-reads the article title.

"'Brains'? Whaddya mean by that?", he mutters to himself.

Even if Bastard München is known for its calculated approach, there wasn’t much strategy happening on the field lately—or at least not for most players. Curious, Hiori clicks the link and begins to read.

Don’t Count Out Bastard München Yet—The Brains Behind Their Strategy Are Just Coming Into Focus by Y/N L/N With the recent departure of Michael Kaiser, Bastard München’s superstar and core playmaker, the team faces an uphill battle. Kaiser's absence has left a gaping hole in their strategy and a noticeable lack of offensive cohesion. After three consecutive losses, including a shocking defeat against Manshine City—the lowest-ranked team last season—it's evident how much the Bastards are struggling to recalibrate. But while the setbacks are significant, it may be too soon to write off Bastard München entirely. Their performance against Manshine City, despite the loss, showed promise. The team is experimenting with new plays that fit their overall style and individual strengths. To long-time fans, these changes might seem futile, but there’s a method to the madness. For instance, the decision to use Kunigami Rensuke and Yukimiya Kenyu as the main strikers might seem unusual at first. In hindsight, it allows Alexis Ness and Isagi Yoichi to create more scoring options while still playing to each player's strengths. This strategy leverages Isagi and Ness’ unpredictability, while maximizing the straightforward power of Kunigami and Yukimiya. Additionally, their midfield defense and offense remain strong, with Benedict Grim and Hiori Yo commanding the center. They provide support and drive plays, utilizing players like Kiyora Jin, and Raichi Jingo to full effect. This demonstrates the potential of the new Bastard München. Even without Kaiser, the team has the makings of a powerhouse. And this isn’t the first time the team has faced adversity, nor will it be the last. Last season, despite a critical injury to the Magician, Alexis Ness, they fought their way to the semifinals, proving that resilience is embedded in the team’s DNA. Coach Noel Noa, a world-class striker turned coach, has also acknowledged the challenges ahead. His expertise remains a pillar for the team, alongside long standing veterans like Mensah and Erik Geisner, who provide stability. However, the real responsibility for filling the void left by Kaiser’s raw power and impact now falls on the team’s ‘brains’—Coach Noa, Ness, and perhaps most intriguingly, midfielder Hiori Yo. Hiori Yo may not be the most flashy player on the roster, but his subtle playmaking has become an essential part of Bastard München's strategy. Both Kaiser and Noa have recognized Hiori’s value, crediting him numerous times during key victories. “His role as midfielder may not grab headlines, but his precision, strategic thinking and game sense provide the grounding force the team needs” Coach Noel Noa mentions before during an interview mid season last year, after winning a do-or die match against Ubers. Thus, this could be a transformative season for Bastard München. For those quick to count them out, this season might just reveal a new side of Bastard München. The team’s resilience, adaptability, and strategic evolution could turn the tide, especially with emerging playmakers laying a strong foundation. As they face the challenges ahead, fans may witness a more mature, tactically sophisticated version of the Bastards that proves they’re far from finished.

The journalist (Y/N) didn’t hold back, addressing Bastard München’s weaknesses head-on. Furthermore, you highlighted how the team could lean into a more dynamic strategy, blending the flashy, ego-driven style that fans loved with a more calculated approach—a style that Hiori himself had been quietly cultivating.

For the first time, it felt like someone truly saw his potential, his value beyond just raw skill or charisma. You acknowledged him as a player who might not command the spotlight but who laid the groundwork, providing the strategic foundation the team needed.

As he reached the article’s end, Hiori felt a strange warmth settle over him. It wasn’t praise, exactly, but it was understanding or validation, something he rarely received. On a whim, he looks you up on Winstagram, curious about the person behind the words.

Your profile was as intriguing as your article. Your feed was a hodgepodge of your life. There are photos from tournaments, interviews with other athletes, and even a few posts about your favorite manga series. You're all over the place and rough around the edges but seemed very passionate by the way you wrote about the things in your life.

A photo of you with a 2B cosplayer catches his eye. You're shyly forming a heart with the cosplayer’s hand, your face flushed as you tries to smile.

“Huh, well aint’cha cute.” he says out loud, before bookmarking your profile. For the first time in weeks, Hiori found himself smiling, feeling an unexpected spark of optimism.

He shares your article to the Bastard München group chat with a simple comment: “At least one person ain't giving up on us.” As the chat notifications pinged with his teammates’ responses, Hiori leaned back, allowing himself to savor this small moment of encouragement.

For now, it was enough.

author's notes: phew! so how was it? i know it's bit long but i want to bring out hiori's charm, focusing on his character and growth, while showing the effect of reader journalist's role in his life, both as professionals and as love interests. it's a bit on the serious side of things (with tooth rotting romance still), it might not be everyone's cup of tea but hopefully this grows onto you. if you have any questions or requests, feel free to send me an ask! i'm planning on writing drabbles and light hearted fics for other bllk characters including hiori ofc some time this month!

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #hiori yo #hiori yo x reader #bllk hiori yo #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x reader fanfic #blue lock hiori yo x reader fanfic

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hoe4rairai · 10 months ago

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❌️ RAIAN FEVER TODAY ❌️

My Answers ❣️ :

1- If you were in Raian's universe, will you accept him as he is ? The murdere , the Assassin ...

Hard at the beginning, but I will grow a thicker skin if he only assassins bad people. Otherwise, it's a huge pill I might not even be able to swallow. Also, if he likes animals, it might be a bit easier to accept his job.

2- Continue dating him after what he's done to Alan ?

YES ... but it will take me a while to accept what I saw him doing, and i might not be relaxed for a while when he's around me. If I distant myself from him, he will go and never come back because he'll think I don't support him. However, I DOOOo support him, especially with these worms. But the mere fact that he torn a full-grown human ass apart will not settle well with me at the beginning . Speaking about it might be a good idea, but I can't show Raian my discomfort, as to him, it means weakness, and he hates mentally or physically weak people. My my discomfort might have, however, show unintentionally when he touches me or makes a sudden move on me. I can't help it, I am not a kure , my brain functions differently.

3- Will you support his mission to destroy the Worm and accept that he might never come back ?

I support his mission 💯... If He might never come back, I will probably disappear as well. In the alternate universe, Raian will be the air I breathe, so him not around ever again means no point for me to live , so i will go search for him in hell and live with my king for eternity .( too dramatic, I know 🤣 )

4- Will you be able to handle his rough handling and obsession over his power ?

Me personally, i am obsessed over his power and i brag about it whenever i get a chance, but with me, I might have to keep reminding him gently every now and then that I am breakable and I would need little TLC every now and then, specially that time of the month, he however, will do whatever he pleases until i show some physical discomfort, then he snuggles with me like a kitty, I SWEAR HE PURRRSSSSS.

5- If you were transported to Kengan universe, how would you seek his attention ?

Looooool .. I have no Fuckin idea .... he likes strong women physically and mentally. I will surely be a mantal challenge for him. It's not hard to be chased by men if you play the right cards, but with the Kure Devil, I better be quick-witted and challangbleonce once the bait gets hooked he will claim me. AND I WILL MAKE IT HAPPEN. Am just worried about the aftermath ☠️☠️

6- In Kengan univers, how would you want to look like ? Describe yourself ( looks, figure, hair, strength, height, weight , foreign or Japanese , job.. what will your unique feature be ? SET YOUR IMAGINATION FREE

It's not so much different from how I look in reality. I am 162cm and 50kgs . umm, maybe longer hair , like a long breeded dark black hair. I would probably want to look like a human cute but sexy cat 😄😁😁 Meow. Though, I know he would be attracted to a unique beauty with a twisted yet mysterious personality that I can be, but Raian , likes his woman big and strong, so I might not stand a chance if ever ...

8- How you met ?

7- Imagine your first kiss / Sex .. ! It's NOT traditional ...!!!

First Kiss : forced, pushed, and messy but will deepen when I gradually lose my grip.

Sex : he won't be an asshole but he will manhandle me , and I think I will get attached after that. It won't be easy at first to adjust to his black sharp eyes paralyzing my body and soul or the positions he will force my body into that would make me very vulnerable and hopeless and SCARED but I will get attentive when he slows down a bit and relaxes.

I WANT TO READ ALL YOUR WILD IMAGINATION YOU HAVE ABOUT THIS MAN ...

At Fusui's apartment. Visiting, I saw a huge body laying on the couch semi naked face down . I mean, I could surf full board on that broad back ... Fusui gestured not to make a sound, but his presence tickled me so I purposely spoke loud, he Turned and his eyes looking at was enough to sent me into her room in a blink of an eye shutting close and wasn't sure if my mind captured the picture of his angry face correctly or I literally saw a real devil in my bestie's living room ..?!!!!!!

Disclaimer: My blog is a safe place for your imaginative mind. We all are wild for this man, and it's perfectly fine to have a comfort character. Don't be shy to go absolutely wild ... 😜 🎶 😉 🤪

#kenganverse #kengan omega #kengan ashura #kengan ashura imagines #raian kure #kure raian #the devil

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fantasticsandwich · 4 months ago

Text

Stockholm in Oslo

au/short story from a series I have

tw: suggestive content, implied drugging

You keep running the numbers, re-tallying the sums, but all the signs point to the fact that somehow, you're barely scraping by. Well, more accurately, Kit is. Not you; you don't pay a dime to live here. In this tiny apartment at the heart of Oslo, your days begin atop crumpled sheet in your shared bedroom. The other side of the bed is always cold. The floors are cold on your bare feet, and the halls are arctic maws spitting you out into the kitchen, where an even colder breakfast awaits you in the fridge.

Shoving articles aside, you find a plate balanced atop another. A sticky note attached to the top designates it as 4 AM's omurice. Kit finds cling wrap redundant, so instead of removing a filmy sheet, you set the other plate aside and dig into the meal, too tired to bother to heat it up. What have you done to be so exhausted? Yesterday, you'd completed your household chores early, so your day consisted of channel surfing and intermittent naps, snacking on prepared meals. Even if Kit insists you don't lift a finger, you're ashamed that you can't even bother to wash the dishes most days.

As you sit and spoon cold leftovers into your mouth, your phones pings, alerting you to an email, from someone from another life. Kiko must be doing well these days. From the message's contents, you learn that he has a foundation now, offering aid to underprivileged minds in Haiti. He has contacts across the globe to make their dreams possible in the same way you almost let yours. If only you hadn't fled the States, then Spain...

But it isn't too late for you; he dangles an opportunity like fertilizer, bonemeal to your mincemeat soul. One of his dream-making contacts wants your creative spirit to thaw on a residency where it all began. A summer-long retreat to the wilderness of New York, just you and a handful of peers, if you can still call them that. Maybe if you could, you would've jumped at the chance, but now, the prospect of leaving your new life and return to a fragmented version of the old is obscene.

Can you leave for that long? Survive or thrive? Kit won't be there to make your breakfast. You'll dine on instant meals, peel the cellophane, then wrap leftovers in cling wrap. In your search for something beautiful to paint, you'll trail a bird to your demise.

Your finger hovers over the reply button. Before you can even dream up a draft, your phone pings again, this time, with a message from Kit. He wants you to take inventory of the produce. He'll go shopping on his way back from the office today. Maybe you can ask to join him.

Yawning, you close out of your email. Somewhere, in a corner of your mind, the concept of a draft lingers, waiting to be ensnared by cobwebs. Drawing up the notes app, you inspect the barren pantry and hastily type a list. Before you can permit your tiredness to make you forget, you promptly take a screenshot and send it to him. Bored again, you fish a feathered fan from a cupboard beneath the sink to do some dusting, but there isn't much surface area to clean. In the city center, everything is compact, apartments included. An Ikea bookshelf houses an array of trinkets that gather dust.

Staring at those exotic destinations, you think about going outside, but the winter is far too cold. The room is cold, too. Shuffling to the thermostat, you crank up the heat. Feet padding across the frigid surface of the laminate floor, you venture to your shared bed to swipe the comforter. With it bunched into your arms, you plop onto the couch. When the day began, you'd thought about all the productive things you'd do, but even washing the plates leaves you feeling groggy.

The remote has been consumed by the cushion. When you finally wrangle the device free from its plush depths, you mindlessly flick through channels, all spluttering in a language you haven't even began learning. Still, you see glimpses of the world you're hiding from. Some type of festival is going on downtown. Do you want to go? Before you can decide, you hear the lock turning, the jingling of keys. The door slides open and gently shuts. You hear the sound of shoes being toed off, then the impact as they hit the hardwood floor.

His voice calls out to you, beckoning, "Love? Where are you?"

Summoned from your linen doom, you arise as a gauzy-eyed phoenix. With the blanket draped over you like a shawl, you peel off the couch enough to turn and face Kit. Hefty bags dangle from his arms. Ignoring their weight, he approaches in three quick strides and snaps over at the waist to press a chaste kiss to your lips. Winter frost clings to him faintly, like a prostitute's perfume. With him leaning over the couch, you grip the canvas handle for purchase, fingers tracing each fiber.

He only goes shopping on Fridays. Ever proud to advertise, he only uses bags with your designs. Imprinted with your most recent surrealist portrait of him, this one is fresh from the manufacturer, still stiff and fresh. Your usual vibrant colors are muted and monochromatic. You painted him blue, the same color as the walls and sky. In the city center, there is only sky and its reflection on the window.

A waxy slip of paper juts out from one of the bags. Snatching it, your eyes widen as you scan the list. Only fresh produce and ingredients, your limited Norwegian tells you. Kit has made your household one of ingredients only. If you want a snack, you'll either have to muster the energy to make it from scratch or call upon him and squander his precious free time for your own selfish desires.

"How much are you spending on groceries?"

He quickly snatches the receipt back. "You don't need to worry about that," he pointedly says, crumpling the paper into a ball before tucking it into his pocket.

"But I'm hardly contributing anything to help cover the costs," you lament. Flopping over, you crush your ribs against the couch's bony spine. "I only get a few commissions here and there. I'd make more with a part time job."

You miss feeling like you were doing something with your life. Instead, you've become a glorified maid, and even then, Kit does all the shopping, deals with the paperwork, and prepares the meals most days. Your energy expenditure isn't enough to warrant lunch, so you've never touched the stove. The seasoning rack is coated in a layer of dust. Damned Kit, who has a palette becoming of someone from the British Isles. Your days are blander than his food. Your soul is empty. Simply existing is brutal and unfulfilling. Sure, you're able to pursue your hobbies. Yet while you were never a social butterfly, you sincerely miss interacting with others. You never thought you'd be one of those people, longing for those hazy college days, when you worked three jobs, only to have to take out another loan to pay your remaining fees. In a sick way, you wished you were still stuck juggling it all, barely managing to scrape by.

Unable to find the pit from which these sentiments arose, you'd never tell Kit about these strange beliefs. He works too hard for you to be ungrateful. Instead, you'll pretend to enjoy your bleak days, how the world beyond the window is a perfect, unchanging snow globe. His steady hands will ensure your vision is never clouded. Here, you are safe and protected.

From who? From what? You no longer remember. You resigned your fate and faith to him long ago.

"When you add it all up, I'm sure it covers our groceries," Kit quickly dismisses. His voice tapers as he disappears into the kitchen. You hear rustling bags, then cupboards slamming as he crams the dry groceries into place. You don't like how he organizes the pantry. He stacks boxes as if he's trying to make paper skyscrapers.

Briefly, you envision that drab outcrop as a gleaming skyline. Another diorama. Made from his toil, of course. If you can manage to sneak out of his grasp during the night, you'll reorganize the pantry, reaching your arms into that thin space, fingers brushing the edges, prying into the dark to dredge sense of the chaos.

"Could," you correct as he shuffles into the living room. "You only let me pay if we go out together, and only if it's a place I want to go."

"It's teatime," he says, setting a saucer down on the coffee table. His thigh rubs against yours as he settles onto the couch beside you. He tries to press the porcelain into your grasp, but your fingers skim the side. The heat seeps into your chilled fingers, restoring warmth.

You wrinkle your nose. "Too hot."

"Alright, but drink when it cools. You've been having trouble sleeping."

Your several micro-naps and incessant exhaustion beg to differ, but you don't want to tell the breadwinner about your pitiful qualms. "And you have trouble letting me do things for myself."

"Your money is yours. If you feel bad about it, then just get me flowers. Or keep painting for me. Paint me. You never used to do that."

Who or what else could you paint when he is all you see? He has become the anchor to your ship, your sky and horizon, the bringer of dawn and daylight. You'd go mad without him. You're going mad at his side. He floods your head with sweet, gentle delusions.

"But I want to be useful, too. I could... I could make and sell more art," you offer. Cold and unfeeling, you'll transform into an industrial machine. You need to be useful before you break and are discarded. "Or I'll apply for a residency program. Kiko sent me the information to one, and I'm sure I'll get it if I apply. In the meantime, I could get a part time job bagging at a supermarket or even cleaning—"

"Y/n," Kit sharply says, bringing a hand to rest on your shoulder. His touch is gentle, almost a caress. He slides his hands down to cradle your elbows. In a single, swift motion, he draws you closer until your chest presses against his. You feel his heart beating in tandem with yours. "If this is something you want of your own volition, then by all means, pursue it. But if you're trying to find a reason to leave me, then I simply cannot allow it."

Your voice sounds leagues, lifetimes away, like you're a ship rotting at the ocean floor.

"It'd only be over summer," you say, shivering as his hands clamp over your thighs. "I'll come back to you."

"You have to," he says. "I fought to have you at my side, so don't you know that I'll do anything to keep you here? If money's such a concern, then let's review our budget."

"But..."

What if you're just a burden? What if having you here is ruining his life? Keeping him from being successful? You couldn't even support yourself working two jobs back home. You crashed and burned, and in the fallout, paralyzed your taste for life. Kit is still young and lively. He should be out on a Friday night, not consoling his pathetic girlfriend because you can't cope with your own incompetence.

Fortunately, you don't need to speak. He hears the implications in your implicit silence.

"Y/N, I chose to make you my priority. If that means that I need to pass on things, then I don't care as long as you're taken care of. Missing a few meals here and there won't do any harm, but if I don't have you..." Drawing in a sharp breath, he pins a piercing gaze to you. "To me, that simply isn't an option. You came here, knowing I'd be taking care of you as long as you stayed."

"But did you know I'd be such a mess?"

"Yes. And I still accepted you because I want to love you. Now, you'll just have to keep your end of the deal and let me do just that."

Tears sting the corners of your eyes. Kit has already done so much for you. Removing you from that wench's clutches, rescuing you, sweeping you off to a foreign land where the painful memories of what she did couldn't follow. He is permitting you to be free.

"But..." Blubbering, you wipe at your face, unable to meet his gaze, "how could you still want me? I can't ever repay you for everything you've done for me. I'd still be in a terrible place if it weren't for you. I wouldn't be here without you. That's impossible to repay."

Kit sighs, fingers ghosting across your cheeks to wipe away your tears. Once satisfied, they dance lower and lower, slipping down your sides, eventually intertwining with your frostbitten hands. His smile is innocent, but the thoughts it conjures should be enough to condemn you to hell. You feel an unwelcomed heat flood your face, a gentle lurch in your stomach when his head plops onto your shoulder, hair tickling as teeth rake across your neck. The low rumble of his sultry tone echoes against your collarbone, melodic with your heart as a metronome.

"It isn't about transactions, but if it makes you feel better, I'd be more than glad to show you one way."

His words rouse something fearsome in you, sending a chill down your spine. But you look up and accept that manic gaze, the pleading, linen-clad look. Your eyes are circled by rings of cotton as you caress his cheek.

"I love you."

Pleasantly surprised, Kit momentarily relents control as you kiss him, but not for long. Pressing you down into the cushions, he quickly regains it, looming over you. Your heart thumps furiously in your chest. His eyes bear into yours as his hand crawls beneath your shirt, up your torso.

"Good. Wanna see how badly I need you?"

an: again, unfortunuately not cillian, but I'm a bit out of practice and needed to write something. and although i love writing him, cillian isn't the yan i'm most fond of, so i wrote about kit, a character from my other series. the lore is heavy with this one, so i won't explain it, but i hope that doesn't stop y'all from enjoying it.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere male #pigmo #x reader #reader insert #tw dubcon #suggestive #cw suggestive #cw dubcon

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ogamagirl · 2 years ago

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Heck it - I answered the rest of those Poke-themed asks because I wanted to, fight me ✨

Art by Nonny - go under the readmore to read me rambling bout us |3c

Eevee - What Eeveelutions would fit you and your F/O?

-He's Umbreon for sure! I feel like dark n steel types tend to suit him best so Umbreon is his Eeveelution for sure - Umbreon has sort of a broody expression that matches Soul well, and it, like Absol his ace, I think gets sort of a bad rep because of its typing, kind of how some might assume the worst about Soul because of his sort of "bad boy" aesthetic, when that couldn't be further from the truth! On my end - my first fav Eeveelution was Vaporeon because it was the first one I raised properly, but my current fav is Sylveon (actually it's a tie between Sylveon and Umbreon but seeing as Soul has Umbreon) so I guess...a tie between Vaporeon and Sylveon? Water is often associated with adaptability and I don't particularly like being adaptable but I think I'm fairly good at doing so lol, while Sylveon evolves through lots of love and I think I have a lot of love to give!

Alolan!Raichu - Have you and your F/O ever tried surfing?

-No! :0 Soul's done body-boarding before but not full on surfing; I have never tried either properly (like, I've used body-boards for fun but that's it). We both like swimming tho!

Gengar - Do either of you believe in ghosts?

-Mm...SE-verse wise, technically souls that persist without being absorbed quickly have the potential to manifest as ghosts, so :0

Meganium - Flower power! Do you two have a garden (or plan to grow one)?

-Nah; I do not have a green thumb and we also have a cat - our apartment doesn't have a lot of outdoor space so anything that we grow would have to be grown inside, and Yutaka would 100% chew on the plants sjfdgnlsfjg. Maybe when we have our own bigger space growing vegetables might be fun to try, but I don't think I'm particularly adept at growing things to begin with so probably not TuT;;

Roserade - Have you or your F/O ever given each other a bouquet? What kinds of flowers were in it?

-I am actually allergic to flowers |D I think they're very beautiful but having them in the same room as me makes me sneeze like crazy, so Soul does not often get me bouquets TAT;;; a couple of times before he knew me well enough to know that he did though! Standard roses the first time, but he got me a bouquet with red spider lilies once - which, we're both aware of the standard symbolism behind them, but they're my favorite flower regardless, so I was touched because he remembered!!

Soul's not the biggest fan of flowers so I've never given him a bouquet as a present.

Comfey - The best way to relax with each other?

-Chillin' on the couch either watching something or playing a video game together. Video game might be our favorite - we don't play a lot of multiplayer stuff, rather we tag-team a single player game, giving each other hints or working together to solve puzzles, it's a lot of fun! TuT

Mimikyu - Imagine cosplaying as your F/O (or your F/O cosplaying as you). How does it turn out?

-Mweheh, I do casual cosplay of him all the time because I have stolen multiple articles of clothing from him :3c mostly stuff he wore as a teen that doesn't fit him anymore but fits me well enough because I'm short, like his track jacket and a couple of sweaters. He is bemused by this |3

The style of t-shirt I used to wear back them is actually a style of t-shirt he wears fairly frequently still, so I guess he does casual cosplay of me too in that way? 🤔 I don't think he's ever worn the exact color combo I did tho (red and black, haha). But we do matchy outfits a lot now =w=

Chansey - Who worries more if either one of you ends up in a hospital?

-BOTH of us would be worried, but definitely Soul TAT;; I've broken bones multiple times since we've been together and he was always super worried ;; Thankfully none of those hospital visits necessitated staying overnight, he absolutely would have slept on the floor lol.

Ditto - If someone tried to impersonate you or your F/O, how would you distinguish the two?

that's all I'm saying on that lmfao

Altaria - What’re yours and your F/O’s thoughts on cloud-gazing?

-Hm! I don't think either of us feel one particular way about it :0 clouds are pretty and fun to look at, and if we're outside and bored we've both pointed out clouds that look like funny things to each other, but it's not something that either of us actively seek to do.

Jirachi - Would you or your F/O wish for anything?

-I'd wish for money ;; I know that's pretty materialistic but I'm a broke millennial that basically lives paycheck to paycheck lmfao - I don't want to be CRAZY rich, I just want enough for us both to be comfortable and not have to worry about things and be able to get treats for ourselves and our friends consistently...

Soul's not a very materialistic person, so I think he'd just wish for the continued strength to protect his loved ones.

Luvdisc - Who fell in love with whom first?

-Meeeeeeee .////////. I mused on this recently in other asks I think, but it wasn't love at first sight, rather interest at first sight that developed into love fairly quickly the more I got to know him. It was because I was trying to hang out with him more and get to know him that he got to know me too, and subsequently found himself developing feelings as well 💖

Stoutland - Any pets you own? Care to tell me a bit about them?

-We have a black cat named Yutaka! He is a nasty beast boy whom we love dearly. I am definitely the cat person between the two of us (having to deal with Blair soured Soul on cats for a while lmfao but he's come around) and baby Yutaka more but Soul always gives him treats n scritches and sometimes I've found them napping together and it's adoooooorable TAT////////

Articuno - It’s snowing outside! Do you two play in the snow or stay inside and cuddle with warm drinks?

-STAY INSIDE AND CUDDLE LMAO - I do like cold weather and snow is very pretty but I like to observe it from the inside nowadays. Soul gets cold very easily so he's definitely inside snuggled up to me haha - he will also have a warm drink, but I do not like warm drinks, so I get warm by cuddling him u//v//u

Vanillite - What’s yours and your F/O’s favorite frozen desserts?

-We both like ice cream!!!! My favorite flavor is chocolate - and like, that includes any kind of chocolate, be it plain or with extra stuff in it like chocochips or shavings or brownies or cookie dough or....uh, yeah you get the idea |D

Soul's not a huge sweets person but he likes cinnamon or fruit flavors!

Bellossom - How do you two help each other fall asleep?

-The act of being next to each other in bed is already a big contributing factor to helping us fall asleep, but in case we're having trouble falling asleep:

Soul will often tickle my back and talk softly to me - it could be about anything, it's me falling asleep to his voice that helps. He also once wrote/played a really quick instrumental piano piece that he put on my iPod all sneaky like to help me fall asleep when I had a period of having really bad nightmares, so if I need an even EXTRA push he'll put that on for me ;/////;

I'll sing to Soul if he needs help falling asleep, and I will also tickle his back or play with his hair while I do so.

Jigglypuff - On a scale of one to ten (or tenouttaten), how much of a softie is your F/O towards you? (alt. how much of a softie are you towards them?)

-He's a tenouttaten of course! But in his own special Soul way - like, he's very good at being firm with me if I'm being unreasonable, so he doesn't coddle me. But he's very patient and gentle, and he never gets angry with me if I'm having a bad day because of my anxiety or depression, he's always just steadfastly next to me for as long as I need. We both know each other extremely well at this point, of course, so he'll often give me hugs or physical affection without me having to ask for it, because he can tell when I need it. But he'll also be playful and give me physical affection because HE wants it, coming up behind me when I'm cooking to hold me around the waist and rest his head on my shoulder, or surprising me by taking a shower with me and washing my hair for me. He's .//////. mmm. always so wonderful....

I am also of course a tenouttaten towards him sjgnlgngdg when I get affectionate I get AFFECTIONATE and very clingy and cuddly - my style of giving affection is a bit more "aggressive" than him, I guess? xD but again, we know each other and understand the way we each give affection so he takes all of it in stride - and let's be honest, it makes him very happy that I hype him up and call him cool and the best all the time =//w//=

Delibird - How fancy are you two when it comes to giving gifts?

-Not super fancy in the sense that we don't often get each other expensive stuff. Like, I don't wear a lot of jewelry and don't want expensive jewelry to begin with, so that's not something Soul often gets me - the only things he gets me with any regularity are earrings because I like them and he picks things that he think I'll like, not based on how expensive they are. That's critical for both of us, thinking about what would mean something to each other rather than the price tag - like, one of his favorite things I've gotten him was a little bell with a skull on it that's supposed to protect motorcycle riders, and he still has it on his motorcycle keychain! It wasn't an expensive gift, but it was meaningful to him, because it's connected to one of his hobbies and shows I was thinking about him. So...not fancy, but always thoughtful 💖

Blaziken - Do you or your F/O train often?

-Heeee does! He kind of has to lmao - he and Maka still go out on missions so he has to be in good physical condition to be ready for any sort of situation that might come up. I have gone on and off over the years in regards to working out regularly (anxiety and depression combo be a bitch lmao) but CURRENTLY I try to do some physical activity for at least 30 minutes a day. He comes on my walks with me!

Gardevoir - Has your F/O referred to you as “their princess/queen”? (or vice versa?)

-Noooooooo lmao that's not Soul's style at all |D I know I'm that IMPORTANT to him, of course, but he's never been one for many nicknames; his most often used one for me is "babe". I don't think I'd want him to call me princess or queen tbh, it would feel weird. I like being his babe //w//

I've never called him prince or king either for the record lmao.

Cherrim (Sunny Form) - If it’s a sunny day outside, do you go outside to spend time together or no?

-That is entirely dependent on the temperature lmAO I hate the heat, so if it's above, like, 75F (so like 24C) I will not willingly spend any kind of time outside. But if it's not too hot, sure! As mentioned above we like taking walks together so if the weather's nice and it's sunny we'll take a walk together.

Wailord - Who’s taller, you or your F/O? What’s the height difference?

-Soul issssss a foot taller than me =w=b 💖 (that's around 33cm for my metric friends) Our height difference is v important to me I treasure it, can bury my face in his chest when we hug, I'm the perfect height for him to give me forehead kisses u///u

Chatot - Give me a song that sums up your self ship!

-I think...a tie between Alone Together by FOB and Felidae by Hiroyuki Sawano. Alone Together just felt like our song from since the first time I heard it, same thing with Felidae. We have two playlists (one "normal" one, one strictly for Black Room songs) and a LOT of music is important to us (naturally), but those two songs are special.

Munchlax - What’s one food that both of you refuse to eat?

-Hmm! That's a good question...I refuse to eat a lot of things, I have a lot of texture issues ;; He is far less picky and eats pretty much anything! But something both of us refuse to eat...maybe...zucchini? I don't think either of us like zucchini |D

Shaymin - Have you or your F/O expressed gratitude? How so?

-Oh man all the time! We are both extremely grateful for each other. I express gratitude by doing extra things for Soul, like getting him a present just because or making his favorite thing for dinner. He does those things too, but he'll also take care of things for me, like if I'm too tired to clean but the apartment really needs it he'll take care of it without asking for help, or if I'm tired he'll carry me to bed without asking. We both always watch out for each other 💖

Victini - How do you two motivate each other to do stuff?

-Lotta pep talks! Soul especially is very good at this - I get in my own head A. LOT and he is very good at being objective/taking a step back and helping me work through things when I'm having a tough time or need a little extra push to do things. I'll motivate Soul if he needs it with lil rewards as well - not physical stuff, but like "if you do these chores when you're done we'll hang out/I'll make you a snack/rub your shoulders", stuff like that haha.

#feel the love with your soul #art from others

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orphicpoieses · 2 years ago

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A giant tag game response...

In the last several weeks, I've been tagged by multiple people for tag games, including some games even multiple times. So, instead of just creating a post for each and every tag I got, I decided to go deeply insane by creating one giant post in which I will answer each and every one.

For all of this, I am tagging: @enchantress-of-words @mirrorthoughts @leafamaranth @blind-the-winds @writingpotato07 @writingbyricochet @j-1173 @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @eli-writes-sometimes @lockejhaven @365runesofwriting @thetruearchmagos @yourfriendlywriter @moonlitinks

Wish me luck.

Okay, so first, let's start with the game I got the most tags for: Heads Up, Seven Up. I've been tagged by @primroseprime2019 (not quite as Heads Up, Seven Up, but Seven Snippets, Seven People), @mariahwritesstuff, @thetruearchmagos and @howlingbreeze. Thanks to you all for tagging me 💕

Since I got the tag, I nearly wrote 30k words on my current project. Sadly, I cannot share any lines with you, so here is an older snippet of mine and I hope, you forgive me for being so mysterious with my WIPs...

This belongs to a snippet for Celestials. I have this one in my drafts for about three to four months now, unsure, if I should continue. So, please, leave some feedback, if you want to read on or not! It would really help me out!💕

His strides were long as he ran down the hallway to the stairwell. "I said you should go away!", Conan growled behind him, but he ignored the archdemon, who followed him angrily. Their voices were already echoing through the door of Asra's apartment and before she could get up from the couch, there was a vigorous knock on the wood. "Asra!" His soft voice got through to her and brought back memories that she actually wanted to forget. Tears welled up in her eyes and even though no one saw her, she hastily turned away. "Get out of here!", Conan growled again and for a moment it seemed as if the two uninvited visitors were at each other's throats. Asra hastily wiped away the tears and stood up. If he didn't listen to Conan, then to her if she was about to send him away.

Next is 10 Songs, 10 People, tagged by @darthenra. Shuffle your music and share the first ten songs.

Looking Back by Satoshi Takebe

We're in the club now by Michael Giacchino

Shine my shoes by Robbie Williams

We are the people by Empire of the Sun

Dream Glow by BTS & Charli XCX

Unbroken by Arealie Brighton

Mayweather by Maître Gims

Mehr Davon by Tim Benzko

Destruction by TSFH

Steel on Steel by Jeremy Soule

Also from @darthenra, the Four Main Character tag. Describe four characters in your WIP that are not your protagonist.

Sadly, I cannot answer this, since my project is a mystery.

The next game is Get to know me, tagged by @eli-writes-sometimes.

3 Ships: I only got one and that's Crowley X Aziraphale.

Last Song: Heat Waves by Glass Animals

Last Movie: A Pale Blue Eye (Rewatch, because it is so good!)

Currently Consuming: The series Designated Survivor.

Currently Craving: Summertime vibes, beach waves and surf lessons

And last but not least: The OC Songs Tag by @writingbyricochet 💕

I will not name the OCs (yes, multiple!), but here are 5 songs with a that make me feel very close to them and just have the right vibes. Usually, I resonate with the complete lyrics, but because this would otherwise end in a much much longer post that I want to, I just give a snippet of the lyrics. Just google the songs, if you are interested in the soundtrack in my head 😁

Open Your Eyes - UNSECRET & Alaina Cross

Open your eyes Now is the time All that you know is changing Open your eyes Into the light There is a world that's waiting

I know where your secrets hide - Klergy feat. Katie Garfield

Bite your lip Taste your lies I write your name in circles Strike the fear Where the dark lies Where you are, your sins will follow Shadows come into the light I know where your secrets hide

Heat Waves - Glass Animals

I just wonder what you're dreaming of When you sleep and smile so comfortable I just wish that I could give you that That look that's perfectly unsad Sometimes, all I think about is you Late nights in the middle of June Heat Waves been faking me out Can't make you happier now

Would I lie to you - Nico Santos

Shadow in the dark, shadow in the dark I know what you've been through Trouble in your heart, trouble in your heart Where no one's ever been to I know you've been hurt before Don't want you to hurt no more Let me get to you

Dirty Hands (Gone Mad) - Kendra Dantes

Look in my eyes, they lie Went to hell a couple of times Can't say I don't try, I tried Now there's nowhere left to hide Now it's done, I'm undone Everything that I've become Let me show you my darkness It's dark, yeah

And that's it! All the tags I recently got, collected in one post!

If you read everything, let me thank you with my whole heart. It means a lot to me. I also appreciate likes, comments and reblogs and don't forget to tell me your opinion on the Orphic Daydreams and wether or not I should continue them.

Giving you all a nice hug and see you in the next giant post 💕🌈

#tag games #writeblr tag games #writeblr #wip: wings of fate #writing #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writerblr #writerscommunity #writerscorner #writersociety #writblr #literature

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lostaroace · 2 years ago

Text

A deal with Hades | Anders Johnson x OC Fem!Hades (Ch.5)

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Fandom: The Almighty Johnsons

Pairing: Anders Johnson x OC Fem!Hades

Rating: Mature (for cussing)

Content warnings: free call on mythology and beliefs, swearing, and self-esteem issues. Honesty.

Summary of the chapter: After the ritual, everyone is fully mortal again except for Anders. He’s not Bragi anymore, but he’s also not human. When he confronts Hades about that new situation she opens her heart and soul to him being completely honest. He has to make a decision.

Word count: 2755

More content in My Fanfic Masterlist | Multifandom

Also available on AO3

This work was created to be part of the Deanobingo2023 event by @deanobingo It fills the General Prompt Card with Honesty.

A deal with Hades | Chapter Five

Knowing that Michele was dead and, as soon as the ritual was complete, the goddess using her body would leave her to rot was not pleasant, to be honest. Yes, with all the finding Frigg and the brotherly fight between Axl and Mike for her, Michele had finally bedded him which was cool although he was well aware that the only reason he was not in Aïdi's bed was that he had no idea if she wanted him like that or not. She made him feel like something precious, like they could build something together, but then Anders was alone in his apartment and the intrusive thoughts occupied his mind yelling at him that she was a true god, the most powerful of them all (as far as he was concerned), therefore the idea of Anders as a giving soul was more like a pet, right?

He looked at everybody around him feeling nostalgic. The only thing that had united the Johnsons to those incredible women was the fact that they were vessels for the Norse gods. Once the ritual was complete, there was no reason for them to keep meeting. Michele and Mike had broken up and although Anders had had sex with her a couple of times, it was not meant to be a long-term relationship. Stacey and Olaf were together, yes, but for how long? He was still a nomad by heart, and now that he knew death was on the corner he probably would spend more time surfing and traveling than with his family, and she had her own business to run. Ingrid's future was a mystery. The idea of seeing any of them again was almost utopic. On the other hand, there was bloody Colin, no one wanted to deal with him again.

Hanna slashed her brother's chest and the fun began. The ritual was made, a little shake on the earth was the only indication of something working. Then a white smoke came out of them, the perfect representation of a soul in the media; and it flew up into the air. Once they had regained their balance, Hanna's brother, Heimdallr, was gone and Michele was laying on the ground.

As Hanna was explaining what had happened to Axl and they figured that there was no real reason for them to be together now that Frigg and Odin were reunited, Anders felt that there was something wrong with him. He touched his chest, right where Hades' mark rested and it felt cold to the touch but burning all the same. There had been no light smoke coming out of him.

They walked to their cars making plans and when Michele insinuated that she wanted to go to Anders' again, he shook his head with a frown.

"There's something wrong with me. I think I have to talk with Hades."

"Maybe Bragi won't be able to go to Asgard, you know, with the deal you made and all," Axl pointed out.

"Yeah, but does it mean that I still have the powers? I need her advice."

The ride to Aïdi's house was slower than he had wanted, his senses were hyperaware. Using the key she gave him, Anders let himself in. Aïdi was sitting on the floor with her back resting against the couch, Blanc tucked between her legs and arms as she hugged him, running her hands up and down his fur. She had heard him, but she didn't move.

"What's wrong?" He approached carefully as if she was some sort of scared animal.

"I hate wars," she mumbled. "Did you know that all the war gods are gone from the mortal realm? There's no one left to command or help or to blame. This is all human making. I– I don't understand how humans can be so twisted. Collateral casualties, they say. They always hid their thirst for blood behind that as if just because they had no real intention to murder all those civilians they were innocent of their deaths. Bullshit."

"Bad day at work then," Anders tried to sound sympathetic but the truth is that he was kind of awkward. He didn't know how to comfort someone so he felt like a fish out of the water.

Hades unburied her face from Blanc's fur to look at him with tired eyes and an understanding look. She nodded before rubbing her face with the cuffs of her cashmere sweater. As she got up, Blanc padded towards Anders greeting him with a bump on his head on the mortal's leg. She got into the kitchen putting the kettle on.

"I presume you have not come here for listening to my complaints about the job. How may I help you, love?"

"We did the ritual. Heimdallr's vessel left for Asgard, but the others just stayed mortals as you said." She hummed to make him know that she was paying attention, "There was this smoke that emanate from us and flew to the sky, but I did not. I feel weird."

"Right. This is the thing, love, when you made the deal with me, Bragi's soul got linked to yours. However, once the ritual was complete, Bragi as a Norse god went to Asgard, although not as the others did. He left with some of his powers, not all of them, because his soul had been linked to yours.

"Meaning that, with that exchange, your mortal soul became the soul of a god. A true god, although mortal if we understand that you can still be killed, of course."

Anders sat on the stool from the breakfast counter, stunned. The gears of his brain turned and rolled as he tried to understand the new information. Aïdi put a cup of tea in front of him before cupping hers between her hands and taking a small sip.

"I don't understand. So, I am not a common human anymore? I am a god."

"Seems like you understood that pretty well, love. However, your powers still have some limitations. They're not like Bragi's entirely, as I also had some influence in the transformation. They won't work with other gods, gods' vessels, or former vessels; and they won't be used to promote havoc, I'll be very pissed if you use your powers to have a free meal or to force your will upon someone else."

"Wait. Wait… If I'm mortal in terms of 'can still be killed' does that mean that I won't die from natural causes?"

"Precisely."

"How does that affect our deal?" He frowned.

"I'm sure you've read the contract by now."

"Yes. It did not say anything about me becoming a real god."

"How about the last part?" With a gesture of her hand, a fancier binder than his own appeared. She opened it and made him look at the last part, the one about Bragi slipping from the deal.

"That's for Bragi and you already said that he's in Asgard now."

"Where does it say Bragi, Anders?"

True. He had just assumed that it was directed to Bragi, but the truth is that in the document what was mentioned was 'the god', therefore, that god was now Anders himself. This wasn't even a loophole in the contract, it was an out for him.

"You gave me an out," he accused.

Hades shrugged, "You weren't selfish when you propose the deal. It wasn't even to save the life of a lover. You wanted to save the life of your baby brother and by doing so, save your other brothers and your grandfather. It was selfless with a suicidal point, obviously, but it was done by heart and I– I just want you to be happy, Anders. I don't want to impose my will upon you."

"You keep saying that. You walk on eggshells when you're with me and it's driving me insane. Why did you write this out on the contract!"

Fuck it, it was time to be honest.

"Do you want my honesty, Anders Johnson?" Her eyes changed to her supernatural white, but the rest of her body remained unchanged. "Gods are awful creatures! We do not restrain our cravings and wants; we see what we want and we take it. I will never be like my brother, not now and not ever. Zeus is a bastard that changed his shape to impose his will upon the poor mortals he was infatuated with. I have always hated that infatuation that drove gods to become disgusting creatures! Then you had to exist!

"I came to New Zealand with the only objective of finding Loki's vessel and taking Loki's soul to the netherworld and making him pay for the migraines he gave me. Unfortunately, you were here, hitting your twenty-first birthday and becoming Bragi's vessel and suddenly the infatuation hit me. Hard. Like a bullet on the neck, Anders. That's not very nice.

"I wanted you. I want you. For eternity. I want you to be mine and only mine." Her voice took on a profound supernatural tone that made Anders' skin break into goosebumps. "I wanted to take you with me and not let you leave. That's not how it's supposed to be done, however. That's not who I am.

"That's why I kept my distance from you until the meddler of Heimdallr decided to make us bump into each other. I tried to separate myself from you after that but you kept looking for me, encouraging our friendship and I couldn't escape. The infatuation became caring, became affection, and love; it became jealousy and possessive behavior that I loathe. If I was like the other gods I would have used your insistence to my advantage and used you, abused you to the point of making you need just as much as I need you. But I'm not like them. I won't be.

"Helen, Gaia, Axl, Michele… I wanted to destroy every one of them. Crave their skin with my nails until they begged me to kill them and then just allow the hellhounds to play with them until they were crumbling into pieces. Again, that's not very nice of me, is it?

"Zeus sending one of his offspring to kill Axl in front of me was a dick move, but when you offered the exchange something broke inside of me. I wanted to keep you, and I still do, but at the same time, I'm aware that spending eternity chained with me won't make you happy. That's why I'm giving you an out from the contract, Anders." Her eyes came back to normal. "Now that Loki had gone to Asgard there's nothing I can do against him, and apart from you, there's nothing in the mortal realm that makes me want to stay. Once you acknowledge the final part of the contract and decide to break free from my claws I would go back to my palace."

The silence stretched between them. Anders had not taken a single sip from his cup but his eyes were fixed on the dark liquid feeling the burning of his chest growing. He had a choice now but he didn't know what he wanted.

"I don't want you to leave." As his confession left his mouth before his brain registered, Anders' eyes locked with Aïdi's. The hope and fear in her look cemented Anders' resolve. "I thought you didn't want me the same way I wanted you. I thought you saw me as some sort of pet."

"Absolutely not!!"

"Then, I don't want an out."

"Anders…"

"As long as I'm not a slave for eternity–"

"Of course not!!"

"I'm all yours then."

His mischievous grin made her heartache and Anders was able to notice it. Yeah, being honest with himself he could say that he wanted to belong to her as much as he wanted her to belong to him. These last months had been a roller-coaster of emotions. Anders had found himself needing her, wanting her presence, her smiles, and her white eyes on him. Now that the possibility of being 'free' had been presented, he understood that he really wanted to see the netherworld, to live in Hades' palace, to meet Anubis and his cats, to just… to be in a relationship with Hades. Fuck, he wanted a fucking relationship. Monogamous and permanent.

Getting up, Anders approached Hades cornering against the counter. Her eyes were looking for something in him, maybe a twitch or slip that proved that he wasn't serious, that he was playing. He was not, though.

"If– If we do this, I will rather you don't mess with anyone else, you know. It kind of hurts when you do and I don't think it would be very healthy if my jealousy consumes me and I start reaping souls out of my official influence area."

"Sounds good to me."

"You say that now. Eternity is a very long time, Anders."

"I'll be yours and yours alone, Hades. I give you my word,"

Well, isn't that a tricky thing to say in front of a powerful god?

The contract destroyed the last part itself and in its place, there was a page with those words from Anders. Now it was official.

When Aïdi closed the distance between them, her kiss was tentative and soft as she placed one of her hands on Anders' chest, on top of the mark, and the other caressed his neck. Anders melted surrounding her waist with one of his arms while using the other hand to cup her face in order to keep the kiss going, fixing the angle and even kissing with more intention. He moaned unconsciously when she was the one willing to deepen the kiss by tracing his lips with her tongue. Anders opened his mouth and he let himself go. There was nothing else in the world but Hades and himself resolving the sexual and romantic tension that had been building up between them.

Three thousand one hundred and five years after.

Hades was playing on the floor with the new batch of hellhound puppies. The three-headed animals were barely able to control their limbs as they jumped and ran after a toy. The door of the drawing room opened with the typical vigor of her husband, Anders, god of persuasion; after him were a few white souls that were visiting Hades' realm as they did every decade.

"See Dawn? I told you the puppies were cute!" Anders pointed out.

"I'm still freaked out by the three heads," confessed Olaf.

"I think Anders has forgotten what normal dog puppies look like," Hades offered with a smile before standing up.

She liked this. Hades had always been fond of guests in her palace, but she'd never had the possibility of hosting some holidays for her family as the other Mediterranian gods that entered that category usually avoided her realm. Since she and Anders had become an item, both true gods, she had made the concession of allowing the members of Anders' family to visit if they wished once they had left their mortal bodies behind. Time moved slowly but in the end, they died, one by one, as they should. Every decade, Anders opened the doors of the palace to his brothers, his sisters-in-law, his grandfather, his friends, his nephews and nieces, and the children of those nephews and nieces. Hades loved the smothering chaos that they usually brought with them, as they filled the palace with noise, jokes, and laughter.

However, what she loved the most about that display, was seeing Anders showing off his accomplishments. Anders, who loved working for Hades in the netherworld and really enjoyed wearing his deep blue clothes and silver crown, fit in her palace as he had always been the missing piece of a puzzle. He loved to prove to his family that he was in love, that he was not a prisoner, that he wasn't bored nor was he regretting his decision, and he rejoiced every time Mike felt a certain jealousy when comparing his own eternal rest with Anders'.

Zeb, Axl's best friend that always insisted on following them, was being hunted by the puppies which stirred her thoughts away. She laughed lightly as the poor soul tried to climb a column.

"Careful with that, it's older than you think!" Anders pointed out sharing a mischievous look with his wife. She winked at him and with a subtle move of his hands, Anders made the column creak, which sent Zeb to the floor with a squeaky sound. "Told you."

Eternity wasn't so bad in the end.

The End.

#deanobingo2023 #the almighty johnsons #anders johnson #anders johnson x oc #original character #oc #fem!hades #bragi #dean ogorman #dean o'gorman #fanfiction #fanfic

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fangirl-writes · 3 years ago

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Nightmares

JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader

Warning(s): Mentions of physical abuse, nightmares, and blood.

Requested by @abiseifried : heyy i have a fic idea! so i thought you could do a secret relationship jj x reader (john bs sis) and jj shows up at her window beaten up and she cleans him up and they go to bed; then he has a nightmare and wakes up screaming and JB sees how good they are for each other? idk if that makes sense hahaha!

Notes: It totally makes sense! I love it and I hope you enjoy what I've written! The ending sucks, but I like what I’ve written.

JJ Maybank was a loveable goofball.

He smoked weed, made dick jokes, and got into trouble. He played pranks, wore snapbacks, and could make light of almost any situation. He surfed any wave he could catch, drank until it wasn’t fun anymore, and had a permanent place on the couch at the château.

Y/N Routledge was loving soul.

She stocked the cooler, picked the music, and threw red solo cups at John B’s head. She liked PB and J’s, wore flip flops, and was always up for a hug. She cooked meals for fun, cut the boys’ hair when it got too long, and was an expert in nursing a summer morning hangover.

Really, it was only natural they would fall in love.

That classic tale of the brother’s best friend and the little sister, but it wasn’t just that. What Y/N and JJ had was deeper than some shitty romcom.

“Hey,” JJ said.

“Hey,” Y/N replied, smiling at him.

She was standing in the chateau's kitchen, unpacking the cooler after a long day on the water.

The sun was just starting to dip into the horizon and John B., Kiara, and Pope were out lounging on the hammocks, feeling lethargic and sleepy from the warm day.

JJ seemed similarly tired as he threw an arm over Y/N’s shoulders lazily and kissing her on the cheek before burying his face into her neck.

She chuckled softly, forgetting the cooler for a minute and wrapping her arms around his warm body.

She kneaded her fingers through his hair and whispered. “Do you have to go home tonight? You could just stay here and...”

JJ picked his head up, looking at her sadly. “You know I can’t.”

He could see the worry in her eyes and caressed her cheek softly. “I’ll be okay. He’ll probably be passed out when I get back anyway and I’ll just head straight to bed. No issues.”

She knew that wasn’t going to be true. There were always issues when it came to JJ’s dad.

She pulled him into a hug again. “You know you can always come back here if things get bad. You can sleep with me and if John B. says anything I’ll punch him.”

JJ laughed lightly. “As much as I’d like to see that, we can’t...”

Y/N sighed, pulling back from him.

It hadn’t been an easy decision, hiding it from everyone, but they both decided it was for the best. Ever since Big John had gone missing, things had been a wreck.

John B. had practically gone off the deep end trying to keep the two of them out of the system and together. But it resulted in bigger parties, worse grades, and him being very overprotective of Y/N.

Not that JJ could blame him; she was the only family he had left.

So, they both decided to keep what they had their own little secret...for now.

“Just...come in through the window?” Y/N said, looking at him with her beautiful (e/c) eyes.

He kissed her on the forehead softly, his lips lingering there as he whispered, “Always.”

The loud screech of the screen door echoed through the house and caused the two of them to jump apart to opposite ends of the kitchen.

John B. walked in just as JJ grabbed a water to make it look like that had been what he came in for and Y/N had returned to her job of unstocking the cooler.

“Hey, guys,” John B. said, slightly groggy. “Pope and Kie just headed home. JJ you staying?”

“Nah,” JJ said with a shrug. “I’d like to sleep in a bed that doesn’t have springs digging into my back.”

“Sorry we can’t afford a sleep number, J,” John B. replied, nudging his friend good-naturedly. “But you’d better get going. There’s only a little daylight left.”

He was right. The sun’s orange glow had begun to filter out of the small kitchen, replacing it with a dark gray hue that signaled the start of night.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” JJ replied, wrapping an arm around John B.’s shoulder and squeezing it. Their version of a goodbye hug.

Y/N wouldn’t be having any of that so she stood up, closed the fridge, and walked over to hug JJ goodbye.

She knew he needed it.

And, really, she needed it, too.

“Be safe,” She whispered, hugging him tighter for a minute before pulling away with a smile. “Night, J,”

JJ smiled softly at her, a look that only she got, and waved to the Routledges before disappearing out of the room, the slam of the screen door and the revving of his motorbike the remaining signals that he was leaving.

“So,” John B. started. “You and JJ...?”

Y/N looked at him with a raised eyebrow, like she had no idea what he was talking about and dared him to assume anything.

“This is going to sound harsh, but I don’t want you to get involved with him.” He said. “I love the guy, but I know how he is with girls and I don’t want him to be like that to you.”

He’s not, she almost said, but stopped herself.

“JJ’s a good guy,” Y/N said with a shrug, seemingly indifferent.

“To you, maybe,” John B. replied, wrapping an around around her neck. “But that’s because you’re my stinking little sister.”

Y/N pushed his arm away with a frown and punched him in the arm.

“Ow!” He said with a big grin.

“Go to bed, you big wimp,” She replied, shoving him out of the kitchen.

“I’m going! I’m going!” He laughed.

The two of them split off into their separate bedrooms, throwing quick “night”s at each other before closing their doors and preparing for bed.

Y/N discarded her tank top and board shorts, as well as the swimsuit she’d worn underneath them. She put on a pair of underwear and an oversized t-shirt she’d bought to sleep in over the summer.

She flopped onto her bed and the tiredness she’d not been feeling before came crashing down on her.

She fell asleep quickly.

***

Y/N woke up with a start, a crash against her floor alerting her. She turned on her lamp and when she looked to the source of the noise-

"JJ, oh my god!" She exclaimed, throwing herself out of bed and onto the floor next to him.

It was bad this time. He had a split lip, a bruise on his eye that was slowly darkening, a few small cuts on his face that she knew was from a glass bottle, and god knows what else that she couldn't see.

JJ hissed as she gripped his side a little too hard.

"Sorry, sorry!" She squeaked, as quietly as she could. "Oh my god, JJ."

"Yeah," He replied, softly. "He was feeling especially pissed off tonight. Came in while I was asleep..."

She could see his eyes getting glassy and felt her own tears pricking at her eyes.

She hugged him softly, trying to miss his bruises. If she hit any he didn’t say anything, just wrapped his arms around her waist and tried not to cry.

Y/N could feel a few tears wetting her shirt, but didn’t care. She just raked her fingers through his hair, soothingly, and eased him over to the bed.

“Sit down, baby. I’ll go get the first-aid kit.”

JJ did as he was told and watched as Y/N went into the bathroom to find the first-aid kit she kept on hand for instances like this.

It made his stomach turn when he thought about it. Her having to have a first-aid kit just for him, having to nurse him back to health when something happened, having to hide it all from her brother, the only family she had left.

She came back in holding the red box she’d always kept underneath the sink in the bathroom.

“Can you take your shirt off for me?” She asked.

If he’d have been in better spirits he’d have joked about her wanting to get in his pants, but he didn’t have it in him.

He pulled the gray shirt over his head and tossed it onto the bed next to him.

It almost hurt Y/N to see the bruises littering his chest and his sides.

She pulled over her desk chair and sat in front of him, pouring peroxide on a cotton ball. “You’re lucky John B.’s a heavy sleeper of he’d have come flying in here when you fell through the window.”

JJ couldn’t help but laugh and then hiss as she pressed the cotton ball to his lip.

“Sorry,”

He met her eyes for the first time. He could see the sadness and the worry swirling in them.

“I wish I would’ve made you stay,” She whispered, tossing the first cotton ball and cleaning up his cuts with another one.

“It would have been worse the next time,” He replied. “You know how he is.”

“Yeah, I know that low-life, son of a-”

“Y/N.” JJ said, a little sharply, then sadly, “he’s my dad.”

Y/N sighed. “I know, it’s just...”

She didn’t have to say, JJ knew. He’d gotten her lecture before, from everyone. From all the pogues, Sheriff Peterkin, the people his dad worked for. They all told him he should just run away.

But he couldn’t. Because it was still his dad.

Y/N closed up the first aid kit after covering some of the bloodier cuts with band-aids. “Let’s get some sleep, okay?”

JJ nodded, laying down in her bed as she left the room to put the kit back. He pulled the sheets up to his chin and rolled on his side.

She came back with a small smile, shutting off the lamp and sliding into bed next to him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her impossibly closer.

“Thank you,” JJ whispered, he could see the sparkles in her eyes as his adjusted to the dark.

“You don’t have to thank me.” She replied, running her fingers softly over his arm. “That’s what you do when you love someone. You take care of them.”

JJ felt his breath catch at her words. That was the first time either of them had used the ‘L’ word.

“JJ?” She said, squeezing his arm. “You know I love you, right?”

He was silent for a minute and Y/N thought he might try to bolt, but he didn’t. He just let out a quiet sob and buried his face in her neck.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” She asked.

“Nothing,” he said with a sniff. “I just- I really love you too. And I can’t believe it took me this long to realize just how in love with you I am and you shouldn’t have to deal with all my shit-”

“Hey.” Y/N lifted his head off her neck and made him look at her. “Your shit is my shit, okay? We’re in this together. Just like I said, when you love someone you take care of them. Let me take care of you, J,”

JJ blinked back more tears and nodded. “As long as you let me take care of you, too.”

She allowed him to snuggle back into her. “Always,”

JJ fell asleep with many emotions, but he could deal with those when the sun came up. As long as Y/N was there with him, he could deal with anything.

*****

John B. wasn’t sure why he was awake. Usually he slept right through the night with no disturbances. Maybe being out all day messed with him or something.

So, he got out of bed and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. That usually helped him when he couldn’t sleep.

The turned on the facet, filling up a glass and taking a large gulp from it before leaning against the counter and staring out the window.

The sky was barely starting to return to its daily blue and the moon was still most of the light out over the water. It was probably four or five am if he had to guess.

He let out a groan. He hated being awake this early.

John B. dropped his cup as screams started coming from Y/N’s bedroom. He bolted out of the kitchen towards her room, his mind not even registering that those shouts were male.

He just about made it to the room when he heard Y/N call out, “JJ!”

But it was too late, he’d already burst through the door. He startled Y/N, but she couldn’t be bothered by him.

“JJ, wake up, your having a nightmare. It’s just a dream, wake up.”

Her voice was soft, trying to coax JJ out of the nightmare without scaring him any more.

John B. was rooted to the spot, mesmerized by the way Y/N was able to calm JJ down. His screams lessening into whimpers.

John B. had a vague recollection of their dad doing something similar when they were kids.

When JJ finally woke up, he sat straight up and was sweating profusely. He was still obviously distraught from the dream.

Y/N gripped his shoulders and made him look at her. John B. could see the way JJ’s shoulders relaxed as he began to recognize his environment.

“It’s okay,” She said. “You’re safe. You’re with me and John B. and everything is okay.”

JJ choked out a soft sob and a mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. It was just a dream.”

JJ nodded and Y/N pulled him into a hug.

The siblings shared a look, conveying that they had the same suspicions on what the dream was about.

John B. reached out a touched his friend’s shoulder, a silent way of telling him that he was also there.

JJ turned his head and looked at John B., never breaking from Y/N’s embrace. “Hey, JB,”

“Hey, man. You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.”

“Good.”

John B. looked from JJ to Y/N who was looking at him with curious eyes. As if asking him how he felt about this.

It was then he realized exactly what was going on. JJ was sleeping in Y/N’s bed, wrapped in her hug. And suddenly everything started to make sense.

Why JJ was suddenly more protective of Y/N, why he always helped her out of the boat, and always disappeared when she disappeared. Why they had begun to grow closer, why their touches lingered and their hugs went on a hair too long.

Y/N and JJ were dating. And they didn’t want to tell him.

John B. looked down and then back up at his sister. He simply nodded.

Yeah. Yeah, this is okay. I don’t mind.

Y/N smiled and looked down at JJ.

They’re good together, John B. thought.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x routledge!reader #john b routledge x sister!reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader

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imagintheworldaway · 2 years ago

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Florida

A/N idk with this one, i just could't stop myself.

Warnings: Drugs, memory loss

Requests: Open

Life hasn't been easy. We both got dealt shitty hands, abusive childhoods, absent parents, people only ever caring when the fame and money followed. But that wasn’t for years. We were both broke kids trying to figure it out, only having each other as a comfort blanket. It's so shitty to think about, we were both just kids, two kids who were never given a real chance. That's where it started. At Least that's my theory. What do you expect, kids learn from the adults that raise them, and when the adults are shitty there is no question that the kid will more than likely also turn out to be shitty. Deep down, somewhere in my soul, I knew I had good in me, but what's the point of being good and decent and nice when the world and everyone in it had only thrown it all back in your face?

I don't really remember the first time I met Frank. I remember we were kids, well teenagers, we ran in similar crowds, and he always had this smile, this cheeky smile which you just couldn’t say no to. And those eyes. Those emerald green eyes, the way the sunset shone in them when we were lying on top of a building, no cares, no one to answer to, just ourselves. Maybe the silence in knowing that we were both doomed was what comforted me. Maybe it was the fact he was tall and handsome, or maybe because he could do things to me that made my knees weak and screams echo through the city.

When he suggested, well when he told me he was moving to LA there was no doubt I would follow him. There was nothing holding me down, so why not follow a boy to LA and see how it goes. I think that's when everything truly clicked for the first time. Being homeless, couch surfing, working dodgy jobs just to buy liquor and cigarettes was how we got by. That sunset, nothing really beat the LA sunset, the warm hues and bright rays that glistened in his eyes, illuminating his face reassured me that this was all worth it.

But LA changed us. Like it does everyone else who gets sucked into the black pit which is the city. As we grew we were able to scrape together some pennies for an apartment. That's when the bug changed. My Frankie was now the sexy Nikki Sixx and I gained the nickname of Florida, or Flo. why? Well I was still as carefree as when I had arrived here. I didn't care where, when or what we did, and everyone we met said I was like a ray of sunshine, meaning I was like Florida. I was also majorly sedated most of the time which only added to the birth of the nickname. Nikki said he always saw Florida as the much more chiller younger cousin to LA, he always wanted to go to Florida, maybe it was the child in him that missed out on such a core memory that so many other kids got to have. So I became his Florida.

We had our own funny little rituals to get by. I would pray for snow and Nikki would produce the white powder that sent shivers down my spine but always brought me a great warmth. Our house was an apartment but our home was on the borderline. We would work these stupid jobs, meet our dealer, then climb on the roof. Heads frazzled in white powder but the same comforting silence that we had as tennagers still there, reassuring us that this was right.

Sometimes Nikki would hold me so close I could swear that I could hear his thoughts. His hand was always squeezing mine, comforting me, knowing we were at the same place. But bliss cant last forever.

I was happy that Nikki was finally in a band that made sense. Tommy was such a goofball and always knew the right thing to say, Mick was quiet, but we had a silent understanding, we looked after each other and then there was Vince, he was gorgeous, and always knew how to make my heart flutter and my cheeks red. They would practise and write songs as I would cut the lines. I never got involved with their business and they left me to mine. It was good. So fucking good. Until it wasn’t.

The more popular the boys got the more money i got a hold of and the more lines, spliffs, pills, tabs and alcohol i consumed. I became the girl always at the show, dancing along on the side, supporting her boys. The music used to create colours, streams of vibrant vibrations would cloud my vision as I swayed and moved to the beat. I couldn’t care about the other girls. Why would i? He always came back to me, no matter what. I was the one in the pictures who he had his arm around, i was the one he brought to the parties, i was the only who kept his supply safe.

It never stopped. I was the new guy everyone went to. You wanted something, you went and talked to Flo to get it. It was like my own dirty little secret that few people were in on. It was never my intent but it was easy. I kept the gear, he kept me satisfied. What I once thought was love I think was deeper. Nikki and I were the same person, and people knew that, you can't find Nikki? He's with Flo. Need some gear? Florida will be in Nikkis' room. A package deal, two of a kind, dare I say soulmates.

All good things must come to an end. That's what our first dealer had said to us. How did he know that all the way back then? I don't know, I don't care to know. He always did warn us though. He always said how I was stupid for following a boy because I was in love. Love was only an emotion, so why did I care so much about a silly little feeling? Maybe because, as fucked up as whatever this thing we had was, it was the only form of love either of us had ever felt.

I was a good girl. The perfect girlfriend, anything he could ever want, but i wasn't enough, i would never be enough. Florida was pretty, Florida was fun, but Florida wasn’t without its demons, it's blotches on its happy go lucky outlook on life, I truly was becoming the worst parts of it all. I took a second to think. When was the last time someone had called me by my real name? What even was my real name? ‘Hold out your hand’ someone said, easily distracting me from my thoughts. Who was that? I was alone, wasn't i? Maybe not. I felt a light pressure on the back of my head, forcing it down. So that my nose met the white powder that had been lazily sprawled across the side of my hand. I took in the sensation of the powder I had felt so many times before. Don't forget to smile Florida, this is as good as it gets.

#nikki sixx x you #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixx #motley crue

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wedreamedlove · 3 years ago

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[FIC] I Love You 115 (8/115)

Rating: G Characters: Osborn/Reader Word Count: 1003

Summary: It's said that eyes are the windows to the soul.

On this hot summer day, you and Osborn decide to avoid the heat by staying indoors in his air-conditioned apartment. It's an ideal, leisurely day with you lying on the couch, surfing the internet on your phone, and Osborn sitting at the other end of the couch, reviewing a video of his last racing team practice on the big-screen TV. There are all sorts of snacks on the living room table and Little Xiao One to Four are snoozing beside the couch or in a prime, sunny location.

Chewing on a piece of chilled watermelon, you come across a post that makes your eyebrows rise with interest. You lean off the couch to set your fork on the plate of watermelons before you settle back into the couch and stretch your leg out to nudge Osborn with your foot.

"Hm?"

Your boyfriend makes a distracted noise of acknowledgment and scoops your foot into his hands, digging his fingers into the arch of your foot and massaging it without taking his eyes off the TV.

You can't help but curl your foot in pleasure as he uses the perfect amount of pressure and the warmth of his palm seeps into your skin. But you keep your objective in mind and stick out your other foot to nudge him again.

"No, no, look over here."

Osborn turns his head to glance at you and does a double take when he sees how seriously you're staring at him. He pauses the video replay and focuses his attention on you. "What's wrong?"

You simply continue to stare at him though and it's only when his brows start to furrow with concern that you give up and explain, "It's a relationship test. You should be able to read what my eyes are saying."

He laughs, "Did you read something strange on the internet again?"

"Just play along." You jab him with your foot and pout. Osborn grabs that foot and wraps both of your troublemaking feet in his hands.

"Alright, let me take a look," he leans towards you while keeping your feet in his lap still, "I think Little Xiao Five is saying... that she's hungry?"

Owing to his tall stature, he easily reaches the plate of watermelons that's set closer to your end of the table, spears a slice on your fork, and brings it to your lips.

You cast him a sidelong glance as you haughtily take a bite. "Are you implying something?"

He pulls his hand back and finishes off the rest of the slice, responding with his mouth full, "I don't dare."

You harrumph and, despite his watermelon offering, judge his answer. "Wrong, try again."

"You've changed your mind and you want to go on morning runs with me?" There's a mischievous curl to the corners of his mouth as he places the empty fork back onto the plate.

"... Are you even trying?"

"OK, OK, I'll be serious." He clears his throat at your flat stare and then shoots you a look, eyes half-lidded. "You... want me?"

Osborn's hands slide up from your feet to circle your ankles loosely and one of his thumbs rubs slowly against the dip behind your ankle bone. You can't control the shiver that runs through you before you yank your feet out of his hold, tucking them underneath you while you grab a couch pillow to throw at him. "Wrong again, and don't project your thoughts onto other people!"

His peal of laughter as he catches the pillow thrown at him with one hand makes Little Xiao Two's ear twitch. Osborn brings the pillow to his chest, wrapping his arms around it, and places his chin on it to look up at you pitifully. "Can I get a hint?"

You glare at him for a second, letting him know you see through his innocent act, before you reluctantly give him a hint. "Your last guess was very close."

"Close, huh." He mulls over this and says slowly, "Are you trying to say you..."

And then, much to your surprise, you see the tips of his ears start to flush.

"I...?" You encourage him, curiosity rising at his uncharacteristic hesitance.

"You... like me?"

"Bingo!" You raise your hands and cheer. "To be more precise, I really, really, really, really like you."

Then, in a shocking turn of events, Osborn lifts a hand to cover his face, but you can see that his ears are completely red. Bright red.

"Wait, why are you embarrassed?" It's like his reaction is infectious because you feel your cheeks heat up in response.

"Who wouldn't be embarrassed when you make them confirm it for themselves like this?" He mumbles behind his hand as he turns his head away, trying to regain his composure.

"Oho! Are you feeling shy?" As if you'd let this rare chance to tease Boss Osborn escape though, and so you clamber over to his side of the couch and try to get a peek at his blush. "I like you, I like you, I like—"

Your words get cut off when he suddenly spins around and pins you down on the couch. Osborn's body blocks the sunlight pouring in through the windows and casts a shadow over his face, but you can still make out the redness in his cheeks and those bright, grey-green eyes that reflect only you.

Silence spreads between you two and, as if in tacit understanding, both of you seem to take slower and deeper breaths as you stare at each other.

"Your turn. Can you read what my eyes are saying?" Osborn asks, his voice low and hoarse.

You swallow past a dry throat. "You like me too?"

"Wrong. I want you." He picks you up in a bridal carry and starts to head towards the bedroom, ordering the dogs to stay when they lift their heads up at your movements. "As you know, I prefer actions to words."

He likes you too, and he'll show that to you directly with his body.

#光与夜之恋 #light and night #LN Osborn #LN Xiao Yi #series: i love you 115

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creativeashproductions · 4 years ago

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Lost Time // Luke Patterson

Summary: Things changed since Sunset Curve fell apart literally as three out of four members died before a gig. Leaving a sad girl behind Luke by chance runs into the reader with someone else. Death tore the couple apart, and time can’t fix this.

Warning: Talk of death, depression, angst and fluff

Words: 2.2k

Might as well join the Julie and the Phantoms fan club!

*For the sake of the story the time frame has been altered, it takes place in the mid-2000s. Also! I tried to make the reader as generalized as I could to make sure that everyone can relate. The reader is Alex’s sister, for inclusion that can be biological, adopted, half or stepsiblings. I want to make sure all people can be the reader.

Masterlist

THIS IS FROM MY SECONDARY BLOG! REPOST!!

The 1990s was definitely some of the best years of your life watching your brother grow more comfortable in his identity. Alex had kept his sexuality secret, taking the frustration of the secret by learning how to play the drums. You would often be found curled on the chair listening to his growing talent; Alex was a great brother.

Alex found friends in three local boys Reggie, Bobby and Luke, even a little more than friends with Luke briefly. By 1991 the boys had formed a band Sunset Curve with each other and a loyal fan in you. By mid-1994 the band had a fanbase and some gigs, but playing The Orpheum was the goal.

Luke had admitted to Alex, he had feelings for you, and with a lot of encouragement from Alex, he approached you. Luke had been focused on music since his parents gave him his first guitar, so relationships weren’t even on the backburner.

“Hey.” Luke spoke, pressing a kiss to your cheek backstage, “Missed you.”

His hair tickled your skin, bringing a bright smile from the teenage boy and a deep blush from you, private time wasn’t as often as it once had been. After Luke’s fallout with his parents a few months back, he had couch surfed between Reggie and Alex’s rooms; he wasn’t allowed in yours.

“You saw me last night.”

“A monumental time.” Luke bent his bend to place a lingering kiss on your bare shoulder, his jacket having fallen down, “Three years together and a bright future ahead.”

Last night had been the third anniversary of your relationship and hopefully the previous night worrying on parents walking in, cheap dates Luke often felt guilty about. Luke knew in his bones playing The Orpheum tonight would open the door to a legendary future. A future where money wasn’t tight and he could you on dates he deemed acceptable for the love of his life.

Bobby voiced brought Sunset Curve’s lead singer back to that moment, you dropped from the stage to settle in the empty audience to watch the soundcheck. With a wink from Alex, he started making the beat to Now or Never, you beamed as they poured their souls into the song. The four were talented and made to be in a band together even if you didn’t really like Bobby.

Cringing at the awkward wink Bobby sent you turned on your converse to head to the bar for a glass of water. Thanking the bartender, you tuned out the conversation with the waitress and the band only jumping when arms wrapped around your waist.

“We’re getting street dogs.” Luke spoke, bringing your body to rest on his chest, “Do you want one?”

The thought of those street dogs honestly horrifying given they were cooked in some random guys car. The one time you tried, it had permanently tattooed the taste in your memories forever, and just remembering was vomit-inducing.

“I’ll pass.” You wrinkled your nose, turning to wrap your arms around his neck, “I don’t know how you guys like those.”

“Tradition.” Luke shrugged caressing your cheekbone with the pad of this thumb. Gazing at features he wanted to wake up to for the rest of his life, “Still down with the plan?”

“The minute I’m eighteen, we go to the nearest chapel.” You grinned playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, “I’ll be waiting Rockstar.”

Luke pressed a long passionate kiss on your lips, pulling away to jog over to Alex and Reggie waiting at the door. Bobby having declined the street dog invitation to flirt with the waitress Rose. Alex waved before the door closed. Little did you know that would be the last time you saw them alive.

1995 was the worst year of your life. 1996 was the hardest, especially with the forever reminder of your love. You wouldn’t trade 1996 for the world however, only wishing for one change.

Los Angeles, 2004

Alex, Reggie and Luke had learnt a mere few days away from that life had drastically changed forever. Firstly, the three boys had died from eating the street dogs mere hours before performing on the stage of The Orpheum. Secondly, it was no longer 1995 but instead nearly ten years had past bringing the three ghosts into 2004.

The most jarring wasn’t being able to be heard playing music with a random girl named Julie but that the most constant part of the band no longer was there. You hadn’t died that night, and Alex was pretty sure you were still alive. Luke felt lost waking up without you beside him and the deep regret of not reconciling with his parents.

It would be a week before Luke would swallow his pride enough to orb himself into his unchanged childhood home. Emily, Luke’s mom, was in the well-worn chair knitting a scarf Luke recognized as his favourite colours. Mitch was in the kitchen, putting the groceries away. It was heartbreaking being invisible to his aged parents.

“Hey, Mom.” Luke sniffled sitting on the couch nearby staring at his silent mother, “Sorry for not visiting sooner.”

Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes feeling hopeless, not being able to ease his parents’ pain, the regret and guilt bubbling to the surface.

“How is Y/N? I bet she’s living in New York of London now. We promised to travel the world together. Part of me is guilty of wishing she had eaten a street dog that night so we could be together.” Luke sobbed, wrapping his arms around his midsection reminiscing on the beautiful girl he had unwillingly left.

“Hey.” Mitch spoke, kissing his wife’s forehead. Her eyes closing in contentment.

“I wonder if you know where Reg and Alex’s parents are. Reggie’s neighbourhood was torn down who knows when. It makes me scared to see if Alex and Y/N’s parents still have their place. I don’t think so. They lost their son.”

“Hey Luke.”

Luke glanced over his shoulder to see Alex at the door, reluctant to impose of Luke’s privacy.

“Yeah.”

“We’re rehearsing.” Alex spoke, smiling as the other teenager took one more wistful look at his parents before orbing out of his house to the Molina family’s garage. Minutes later, the front door opening and feet thudding brought the noise to the Patterson home.

“Grandma!”

A four-foot blue of green and black blur covered the room in seconds nearly sprawling Mitch to the floor. Why was that 1996 year difficult? Well, ’95 was when Sunset Curve tragically died, and a stick changed your life. ’96 was spent going through the last five months of pregnancy without Luke.

October 1995

You kept your lips pressed tightly together, unable to look at the smooth, shiny mahogany rectangle surrounded by flowers. Looking up meant the reality kicking in. Funerals sucked. Especially the third funeral in the last handful of days. It was surreal thinking that one week ago you had kissed your boyfriend and hugged your brother and now they were dead. Gone. Not even a goodbye.

“Are you okay?” The broke voice asked, gaining your attention. Swollen red eyes matching yours held unimaginable pain. While the last few months had been icy with your parents, it didn’t mean losing one of their kids didn’t sting.

“I will be.” You whispered clasping your hands over the scratchy black velvet dress, one you had worn three times too many.

The sobs broke out seeing the best picture Alex had taken in his life, it encapsulated his best features; his beaming smile and kind, caring eyes. Alex was gone. Your brother was gone because he ate a bad hot dog with his friends. You would never see your boys again. Never feel Luke’s skin or share a laugh with Alex or complain about things with Reggie. You wouldn’t get to meet in the chapel with Luke wearing second hand ‘fancy’ clothing. In one night, your life changed.

It changed further seeing the two lines on the test later that night. The heartache growing. The baby you carried would never meet his uncles and his Dad. Would never hear them play or learn to play. ’95 and ’96 sucked ass.

You sighed, closing the door to follow the rambunctious ball of energy into the living room where he entertained Mitch and Emily. Some days it was difficult to stare into the green eyes he inherited from his father.

“Benjamin Lucas.” You spoke crossing your arms, meeting the gaze of the eight-year-old boy, “What did I say?”

“To not runoff.” Ben quietly replied, playing with his hands. His messy brown hair, in need of a trim, falling into his eyes, “Sorry Mom.”

“Please don’t do it again.” You gently told the little boy elated as he quickly found the toy box in the corner of the room.

Ben was loved deeply by Mitch and Emily, who had stepped up when your parents made the decision to sell your childhood home. Wanting Ben to know his paternal grandparents, you had struggled to find an apartment and job to say in the neighbourhood. Since the baby was the last part of their son, the Patterson parents’ had welcomed you into the home where you stayed until Ben was two.

“Do you want us to come around for Luke’s birthday?” You questioned sitting on the love seat, the same love seat you had made out on with Luke many times during movies.

The room turned sad at the question and reminded that for the ninth year, you would celebrate Luke’s birthday without him. A day where Ben wouldn’t fully understand. Emily simply nodded her head.

“Have you met anyone?” Mitch asked, leaning over to clasp his hands together. For the last few years, they had been pushing you to date. They wanted your happiness and for Ben to have a father even if Luke couldn’t be it.

“Mama can we stay here tonight?” Ben’s innocent voice cut the tension, saving you from answering the question again. Mitch and Emily each nodded their heads at the question, unable to tell the young boy no.

“Have you ate?” Emily asked, turning to look at you in concern. The chuckle left your mouth at the question she frequently requested, she missed cooking for more than two.

“We had pasta before we came.” You replied, turning to gaze out the window to the dark sky, “I should put Ben to bed.”

The soft whine from your son and denial was a nightly routine and very much a mirror image to Luke’s character as well. With a smile, Emily held out her hand to her grandchild, she was notoriously the only one able to get Ben to sleep fast.

“Come on Bug.”

It seemed the universe was keeping Luke from seeing you and discovering Ben, but when that night came, he was shocked. Emily was curled up on the patio couch, watching Ben in the newly bought sandbox. The patio doors opened. Inside, Mitch had invited a stranger who knew his son into the house.

“I think I heard the doorbell. I’ll be right back.” Emily called out to you. You had found shade under the tree reading a new book.

The soft cry had you up and running to Ben before you even realized, on his knee was a bleeding wound. You had already scooped the boy into your arms to quickly get into the kitchen. The moment your foot stepped into the home, the sound of a familiar voice and song filled the house.

Gently placing Ben on his feet, you followed the sound to the living room. Across the room behind a young girl stood a boy.

“Luke.” You breathed floored at the sight of the teenager who looked exactly like he did back in ’95. The ghost singing widened his eyes at yours, taking in the mature features and change of fashion.

He continued to sing the song Unsaid Emily he had written as an apology to his mom following the last big fight. The song he never got to show her. His voice faded as the ending of the song came around.

“Mama!” Your attention broke from Luke’s when a tiny hand reached for yours. The pain in his voice bringing you back to the most important part of your life, “It hurts Mama.”

Despite being sad, Mitch was the one to cross the room to lift the little boy into his arms. Placing the little boy on the counter, the man gently wet a paper towel to wash the area.

“I think he needs stitches.” Mitch sighed, furrowing his brows.

“Who is that?” Luke asked the Molina girl. The girl shrugged taking in the features she could recognize. Julie asked Emily.

“That’s Ben.” Emily beamed, looking over her shoulder at the little boy that filled the void of Luke’s death. It didn’t fix the wound or erase the pain, but Ben’s existence helped with the loss as he was a precious gift, “When Luke passed away his girlfriend Y/N found out she was pregnant with Luke’s baby.”

The choked sob fell from Luke’s mouth echoed by the thud of his knees, hitting the floor in the pure shock. The heartbreak painted so clear Julie was sure she could feel Luke’s agony.

God, why did Luke have to eat that fucking street dog. Fuck his band dreams. Nothing hurt as bad as finding out about Ben and Y/N having to be a single parent.

“I have a son?” Luke cried, orbing himself as far as he could from the Patterson home and his most tremendous loss.

Part Two

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fragilevixenfic · 4 years ago

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The Darker Side of Love

Rating: M

Category: Angst/Post En Ami/Smut/Angry Sex

Summary: Mulder does not want to talk but he does not want Scully to leave, either.

“Betrayal stings in a bitter way but regret leaves an even bigger hole in a heart.” – Unknown

Edited/expanded from a piece written during Vicky’s (@frangipanidownunder on Tumblr) workshop focusing on specific words, tone, and mood to create a scene. Thank you for the fabulous beta work, Monika (@monikafilefan) and Kasey (@slippinmickeys). I’m eternally grateful for your insights.

I cannot let you burn me up,

Nor can I resist you.

No mere human can stand in a fire

And not be consumed.

-A.S. Byatt (Possession)

10:00 PM

Mulder had ignored Scully in the drive back from the empty offices, steadfast in keeping his eyes forward as she stared out the window. The expectation of an argument had gone flying by like so many drops of rain in the wind and renewed the dull ache in her heart as he drove right past her exit, opting for his own. Despite the anger written on his face, he wanted her next to him. He squeezed her hand only once before going upstairs and it felt more like pity than love. She pushed the emotions a little further down and stood in the doorway, watching him as he paced. Watching him as the pieces of his psyche finally began to crumble before her like a castle in the sand as the surf finally came to wash it away.

What have I done?

Scully held her palm to her lips as she stared at the physical representation of her failure; the manila folder Mulder onto the table and let every piece of paper fly across the lacquer top. They scattered onto the floor like so many hopes and dreams. They were now nothing more than nightmares manifested as Mulder tossed the disk onto the center of the mess, the glints of light reflecting darts of light across the ceiling, and heaved a heavy sigh as he sank against the cushions. She didn’t need the reminder of her self-inflicted catastrophe but he was providing it for her in the form of a massive printout of empty promises. There was already an ache in her belly and a lump up in her throat, and she swallowed the last of her nerves as she held a breath in. She wanted to be numb and run, but every nerve seared and tingled, pushing her to stay.

The leather squeaked and his eyes found hers but words wouldn’t come, like a punishment. His fingers twitched and knuckles went white as he squeezed air; it sent a chill down her back as she imagined who he was picturing on the other end of his fists. Something was burning behind those flecks of jagged gold and green that Scully didn’t want to decipher. Her tongue clicked the roof of her mouth as her eyes zoned out on the low, erratic bubbling of the fish tank. It was worse than any lecture and the wretchedness had already been doing the trick to her pneuma as she stared at the carnage of paperwork in front of him.

“Just say something,” Scully bit down hard enough on the corner of her lip that the taste went tinny and the first tear betrayed any hope of calm, coaxing a breathy sigh from Mulder.

Request not met. He’d set up camp in another non-committal night of no communication and anxiety; enough to make her blood pressure spike and make her cheeks go hot. Stalemate. Scully’s white flag went up as she felt the door staring at her back, willing her to just walk away and surrender. She teetered in her heels and grasped the molding as she heard the snap and skitter of his belt before her eyes could register the motion. Her gasp rivaled any sound Scully had ever made but it didn’t persuade more than a tilt of the head from Mulder. He leaned back as the sweat gathered along his brow. She recognized the distinct ember of change brewing beneath his lashes as he stared up at her.

“I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to think,” Mulder tossed the belt onto the finished surface with a resounding thud and pushed his fingers into the cushions, desperation in his eyes. “Not tonight.”

“Then what do you want?” Scully held her breath and took a step closer, letting his eyes set fire to her soul as he tilted his head to look at her. “Do you want me to leave? Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know,” Mulder shook his head and stood, moving past her like a tornado with his fingers wound through his hair. “No.”

The disappointment in his voice was killing her as she backed up until the curve of her spine touched the wall, watching his jaw clench and his eyes narrow toward the floor. He paced for a long, agonizing moment. The silence was deafening, maddening, claustrophobic, and the pressure against Scully’s back only added to the suffocation as the oxygen refused to leave her lungs. Her exhale came out in a rasp and a whimper, tugging his focus until he was peering into her embodiment, bulldozing the remainder of the barrier she had built to keep the emotions in check. Composure evaporated as she let her tears fall; the unmentioned ardor sweeping down her cheeks as she bit down on the edge of her lip.

Scully ran her palm along her chin, capturing the stray droplets as the word came out despite every effort not to say it. “Please…”

Mulder diminished the distance, enfolding Scully’s frame in his arms, he pressed his fingers against the small of her back and dragged the fabric of her long-sleeved, high neck top up. Scully breathed toward the ceiling as Mulder freed her from the confines of her top, pulling it up and over her head before discarding it in the direction of the couch. Mulder knelt, guiding her out of her shoes and undoing the button and zipper on her slacks, exposing the pale curvature of her hips and legs along with a matched set of pale blue undergarments. He looked up at her from her waistline as he leaned in and set his teeth against her skin until she twitched under his grip. A moan pushed her lips apart.

“I can’t…” Mulder manhandled her, gripped her backside as he stood and thrust his pelvis against her as her arms wrapped around his neck. “I need…”

“I know,” Scully couldn’t have been more aware of Mulder’s magnetism as she hiked her knee around his hip and felt the sting of the mahogany trim as it struck her shoulder blades.

Scully didn’t want soft and slow and she knew neither did he, as his erection uncomfortably pressed against the remaining layers of clothing between them, inviting her warmth as her inner thighs quivered just enough to make his eyes roll back. Mulder thrust again and the punctuated cry was marked by the involuntary tightening of her fingers through his hair. The swirling of energy nearly toppled him over. Mulder let her feet touch the floor and looked down at her small, capable hands as they undid his jeans and pushed them down toward his knees before sweeping the soft material of his sweater up and away from his torso. He stopped to gaze at her and sighed into the drafty apartment at the delicate beauty that he had become so enamored with; exasperation, however, had become a prevalent frame of mind.

The pause was short lived as Mulder let his motions become frenetic and haphazard. He shed the last layers of cotton blends away from alabaster and blush before wrapping his arms around her waist. Scully held onto the wall as his thighs pushed against her, slowly sliding his cock past her slick folds until he had filled her completely. Mulder craved her proximity as he guided her legs a little higher, reveling in the electric heat as his unrelenting thrusts picked up speed. The intensity continued to build until it finally vibrated both framed pieces of artwork off the wall. On an ordinary day, the thudding of their frames hitting the floor might’ve been enough to stop every thrust that Mulder had made…but not tonight.

“Do you even understand…” Mulder’s voice came out in a growl, the sweat dripping down his temples as he locked gazes with hers and pinned her wrists above her head, bottom lip trembling with every syllable. “At all?”

“I had to try,” Scully’s fingernails were wreaking havoc on his shoulders, leaving blistering marks as she held onto him and felt the weight of his anger, his frustration, his unyielding passion as it bruised her backside with every grind of his pelvis into hers. “I couldn’t…not…try.”

“I don’t know what I would’ve done,” Mulder had tears down his face, betraying the gruffness he was desperate to convey as he moved a little slower, bucking his hips just enough to coax a throaty moan from her. “If anything bad…had happened.”

“I know…Goddammit, I know,” Scully’s fingers moved to his cheek, reclaiming his tenderness as he drove into her again, impulsively, and hopelessly sought possession of her affection, despite never losing it to start with. “I know.”

He didn’t want an apology or a semblance of redemption. He tipped the metaphorical glass and heard his name called to the rafters; he wanted to go back to the moment before the clandestine invaded under the veil of a continuously lit cigarette and a shroud of smoke.

Thanking anyone who cares to peek at this. Tagging @baronessblixen @today-in-fic @reasonandfaithinharmony @dreamingofscully @wtfmulder for the extra love love.

#Angst #post En Ami #x files #fanfic #x files fanfic #mulder and scully #smut #angry sex #a year in the making #the longest wait

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pankowfruitsnacks · 3 years ago

Text

Shattered JJ Maybank Chapter Thirteen

master list | series master list

warning: depression, weird relationship with food

word count: 1104

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Ava roamed around the main house in a zombie like state. Nothing felt real. Not the tears or the pain.

She hasn't seen any of the pogues since coming home. JJ and her talked that one night, but he's never come back. Only a few text here and there. She let those message play in her head.

"If you need me, you know where to reach me, love ya -JJ"

Her only response was a simple "sorry".

"It's okay. Sometimes people just need space and I respect that." He was still so kind after everything. That was the last message between them and it hurt.

She finally did it. She pushed everyone away. Just like she wanted. So why did it hurt so bad?

Ava sat in front of the large window, look at the ocean. Always coming and going, always changing, but still constant. Just like her. Ava was there until she wasn't. Except instead of water, it was the loneliness that was constant.

A knock at the main door tore her from her thoughts. No one else was home, Macy was with friends and Uncle Matt and Mae were at work. The girl pondered on Macy. She missed her company. Always so bright and bubbly, but now nothing brought the joy that was so easy to find in the beginning.

As Ava opened the door, she saw Kie, Sarah, Pope, and John B. Smiles plastered on all their faces. "We come baring gifts." Sarah held a fairly large basket and John B held a bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers. There were pinks and purples, even some dark reds.

"They are beautiful." She grabbed them from him and turned to look for a vase. "Please come in."

Kie gave the rest of the group cautious looks. The girl looked like a mess with her bloodshot eyes and ashened skin. "Guys." Her voice lowered as they stepped in.

Pope hugged the girl, pulling her close. "I know." They we're all pretty shocked by the blonde who stood before them at the door.

"The flowers look great in the sun light. Definetly gonna brighten up my room for sure." Ava's smile was broken as she walked back and took a seat on the couches. "So what are you guys up to today?" Her heart wanted to ask why JJ wasn't there with them, but those words wouldn't form.

Kie took a seat on a separate couch inbetween Sarah and Pope. "We wanted to see you. We miss you."

"Yea. I believe a girls day was mentioned." Sarah chimes in.

"Spending time with the family. You know how it is." Ava was waiting for the foot to drop.

"Let's go out today. We can eat at the wreck, surf, and just hang at the chateau. It's been almost three weeks since we last saw you." John B tried to hold back any emotion other than joy. Truth is he was worried for her and more so worried for JJ.

JJ kept telling the group he wanted to give her space and that she would come around when she was ready, but both of them knew Ava well enough to know she was trying to push them all away. She was isolating herself off from any connection.

JJ didn't want to come today, so he told everyone he was working on his cousins car. It wasn't a total lie, but truly he just wanted an escape. John be knew his best friend.

Ava shifted through the basket she was given. It had some face masks, nail polish, m&m's, a few animal documentaries, and a bumble bee pillow pet. No doubt, JJ had his say what when in here. Her heart ached. "This was very thoughtful, guys. I love it."

"So how does lunch at the wreck sound?" Ava wanted to say no, but after all they did, coming to her house, giving gifts, being kind, she couldn't.

"Fine. But give me ten minutes." They all smiles.

"Take as much time as you need, we're just happy your back." Pope spoke.

They all walked over to her apartment and the whole time Ava had a grin on her face. They didn't treat her much different. They didn't bring up the trial. They showed that they cared in countless ways.

But that still didn't replace the numbness and voices deep within her soul.

You're going to hurt them.

It's just an act.

Runaway from this feeling, it's not going to last.

Ava did all she could to ignore it. If it was only for the day, she didn't mind. She would pretend it was all okay.

Ava quickly changed into a grey crew neck and biker shorts, throwing her hair into a messy ponytail. She noticed how the clothes fit differently, Ava would be lying to say it was anything but her loss of appetite. She hasn't had much energy to do anything other than walk house to house. Her emotions drained her.

The car ride there was full of laughter and fun. Ava missed this. No amount of books or animal planet could distract her like these people. But JJ still wasn't here, and that void wouldn't be filled with anything else.

"Hello dad." Kie walked in with us trailing behind.

"Hello Kiara and friends." We all chuckled. "Ava, my favorite. It's been a minute since my best client has been around. What have you all been up to."

"You know the Abbott's, work and good old family time." She lied. Everyone stayed in thier rooms when they were home. Ava barely left her living area if they were. It was a weird dynamic at the moment.

"Well it's good to have one of you back. What can I make for you? On the house."

Ava wasn't sure she really was that hungry but decided on a Caesar salad. "Easy. Coming right up. The rest of you, I already know, but you gotta cough up the change. I can't keep feeding bottomless garbage cans." The table when up in a roar.

They made small chit chat until the food came. Ava poked at it most of the afternoon, taking half home for left overs.

"Thank you so much for today. I enjoyed it." She waved.

"I wish you would join us for surfing, but I get it. See you tomorrow, Aves." Sarah waved back and they left.

Stepping into the main house, she saw uncle Matt wrapped in Aunt Mae's arms, tears streaming down both their faces. The next words that escaped his mouth sucked all the air in living room right out.

"Your father died this morning."

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