#and this is on top of a call center job that steals every ounce of joy i have | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seokjinsonlyone · 3 years ago

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this is how i think it’d go if you went to visit bts at work and gave them a little peck on the lips

namjoon:

you’d probably walk into his studio and he’d be at his desk headphones in playing back some beat or revising some lyrics

you’d come up behind him and wrap your arms around his neck effectively stealing his attention away from the track

and that’s when you’d place a nice little peck on his lips

but that wouldn’t be enough for him so before you could even fully break apart he’d already be chasing your lips

he’d roll his chair around to properly face you placing one hand at the back of your neck bringing you back to him immediately slipping his tongue in your mouth

what once was a cute little greeting turned into a sensual experience as he gently massaged your tongue with his

and when he felt like he had his fill of you for the time being he pulled back, smiling, dimples on full display and said “hey, baby.”

the depth of his voice would send shivers down your spine and you would settle into his lap wrapping your arms around his neck picking up where he left off just bc he was done didn’t mean you were

seokjin:

you’d probably end up at hybe headquarters after seokjin called you when he was done with his day to get dinner together

you’d call him to let him know you’re outside and within a minute he’d be in your car

you’d lean over the center console to give him a peck to which he’d immediately complain

“woooowww i’ve been at work all day and that’s all i get”

you’d swallow down the urge to tell him that he not the only one that work in favor of rolling your eyes and pressing your lips to his again for a little longer

that wouldn’t be enough for him though “just one more,” he’d request.

“one more.”

he knew that asking for a kiss from you was a dangerous game

could feel it in the way he melted against you

could tell by the way he seriously thought about giving you one of his rolex watches you jokingly said you’d steal and sell

or one of his cars you said you’d steal and sell

thought about giving you the world just for one more kiss

yoongi:

with yoongi you’d probably enter his studio (he’s always in the studio) with the code he gave you

which the fact that you were the only one other than himself that had the code did inexplicable things to your heart you couldn’t really delve into without feeling like you were gonna explode

anyway you’d walk in the room and he already knew it was you like you said you were the only other one who could freely enter and he’d be at his monitor doing whatever producers do

“hey just gimme one sec”

and you knew how that one went sometimes it was actually just a few seconds sometimes it was a few hours until you had his attention but you didn’t mind you ain’t have anything else to do just wanted some company

you didn’t wanna disturb him too much but you couldn’t help yourself so you walked to him turned his head to face you and quickly kissed him before recoiling to the couch a few feet away

10-15 minutes later he was summoning you over to him, pulling you into his lap, and using his thumb and index finger to trap your chin bringing your lips back to his for a proper kiss

you sighed contentedly afterwards laying your head on top of his as he wrapped his arms around your waist, showing you what he was working on

hoseok:

hobi was usually a super organized person liked for everything to have a place and everything to be in that place

but you were his little chaos and organization was definitely not his top priority when he was with you taking second place to soaking up every ounce of your presence in whichever way you would allow him

so really it was no surprise when he texted you asking if you’d seen his little notebook where he wrote his lyrics and whatever other ideas or thoughts popped into his head

it took a bit of searching to find but you had it and he was very fortunate you liked him it was the only reason you were willing to drop it off before work

you made sure to let him know he was the reason you looked ugly today the trip to his office severely cutting your usual routine and he made sure to let you know that a) you were beautiful no matter what and b) he would make it up to you

it was only your second time at the new building your first time was when he invited you along for their first look at the hybe insight museum so it was safe to say you had absolutely no idea where you were going despite the detailed instructions one of the staff gave you upon entry if you hadn’t run into taehyun you probably would’ve been running around that building for another hour

you were thoroughly unamused with the situation but hobi looked so cute and sheepish when you entered the practice room wrapping his arms around you immediately alternating between expressing his gratitude and regretfulness that you couldn’t help but press a small kiss to his mouth

an action you instantly regretted bc a) it caused him to start pressing kisses all over your face in return b) it caused an eruption of various forms of shouting from the six other boys you failed to notice upon entry

you pushed at his chest as heat flooded your body from embarrassment preparing to leave you were going to be late for work “be good” you told him personally before shouting “have fun!” at the other members

jimin:

your days off hardly coincided with jimin’s days off mostly bc he never really had days off always had to go in for one thing or another

but his days weren’t always jam packed some days like today he had a meeting in the morning and a meeting in the evening and not much else to do besides that

and he was the absolute worst at entertaining himself always needed to find someone else’s business to get into and as the object of his affection you were always his first choice

he tried not to bother you too much when you were busy though no matter how clingy he was and he was awfully clingy

if you two weren’t able to be joined at the hip in your free time you were definitely on the phone and if he wasn’t the object of your affection as well you would’ve started ignoring him a long time ago as it stands he was the best company

anyway he knew you were off today and had no plans other than finding a new anime to start so naturally when he found himself bored out of his mind he was in your ear purring down the line for you to come to him

it didn’t take too much convincing your attention span wasn’t on your side so you couldn’t really get into anything and even though you literally saw jimin yesterday you missed him :\

it’s why you didn’t hesitate to land a peck on his lips upon meeting him again and latching onto his arm firmly as he led you to one of the small practice rooms they had

“so tell me about your day”

you looked him over suspiciously he had that mischievous glint in his eye so you knew he was up to something

and you were right you weren’t more than two sentences in to your answer before he was pressing his lips to yours in a long lingering kiss

“i’m sorry continue”

“um...” your attention span really wasn’t with you and it was hard to retrace your train of thought with your lips tingling and the hairs on the back of your neck raised

you eventually found your mental footing and continued speaking about your day which had more or less turned into you ranting about haikyuu when again mid sentence he captured your lips between his own one hand tracing up and down your spine while the other held your head into place so he could lick into your mouth just the way he liked

“go on” he panted slightly breathless once you finally broke apart

“jimin...” you whined

he giggled at his own antics loved riling you up found it so cute how you couldn’t even try to keep the dreamy look off your face “you like me so much don’t you?” he asked with a self assured grin etched onto his face

you did

taehyung:

sometimes he felt so sorry to you hated cancelling on you because something came up or another thing ran over time

you were always cool with it tho never made a huge fuss of it which he was forever grateful for bc he really did love his job

but he really loved you too

he had to cancel three separate times just this week alone and he was missing you something bad

and even though he really wanted to take you out and do something nice for you like you deserved at this point he just wanted to see you

missed seeing you in person and having you in his arms

that’s how you found yourself on a bench tucked into a quiet corner of the upper garden at a table chairs side by side his hands toying with yours as you caught him up on your week so far

he was kinda obsessed with you and you loved it because having his undivided attention felt so so good

so you couldn’t help but close the gap, briefly pressing your lips to his

the slight blush that took over his cheeks had an insane amount of serotonin flooding your brain you loved him so much

even more so when he surpassed his bout of shyness and unabashedly brought you closer to him and attempted to make up for a week’s worth of lost kisses

jungkook:

sometimes life got busy for the both of you and even though you meant to meet up it just didn’t happen

but once you finished your work week you made it your mission to see him as soon as possible

you’d texted him when you got off and he told you he was finishing vocal practice then going to workout which left you with enough time to stop home and freshen up before he was done

as expected his trainer told you he was in the shower when you popped up so you decided to wait in the hallway for him to come out

“heeeeey what are you doing here”

you looked up from your phone to see your slightly damp very buff boyfriend grinning down at you

almost instantly you were hugging him arms wrapped around his waist before pulling back slightly pecking him on the lips

which set something off inside jungkook a shock ran down his body just from the feeling of your lips pressed against his

“let’s hang out” you agreed immediately “i just need to grab something from my studio first”

he laced your hands together dragging you alongside him and as soon as you entered the room he had you pinned against the door hands on your hips kissing you with far greater ferocity than you could have anticipated

and it’s like jungkook knew he missed you but he didn’t realize just how much until he had you in his arms your lips on his

kissing you felt like home and his introverted self never wanted to leave the house couldn’t even help the groan that escaped the back of his throat as you took control of the kiss and made a mental note to remember to never deprive himself of this pleasure again

one of his hands slid down your thigh lifting your leg until you got the hint to wrap both of them around his waist allowing him to show off his strength and grope you at the same time

“jk,” you said breathlessly, breaking the kiss

his lips were chasing yours the second you broke contact he didn’t care about breathing when a fire was spreading through his body

you indulged him for a few more seconds before breaking apart again

this time his lips traveled down your neck kissing and sucking until you were making the prettiest sounds for him

you felt like you were going to explode his hands were squeezing your butt and his lips were on your neck and you were going to explode

“jk...” you whined again tugging lightly at the hair on the nape of his neck

he made his way back up your neck pressing a hard kiss on your cheek before gently nudging your nose with his “hmmm?”

and suddenly you were staring directly into his eyes big and pretty and filled with stars shining just for you

you were going to explode “let’s get out of here”

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starshine583 · 4 years ago

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For the soulmate letter prompts, Felinette with prompt O please.

O: Opportune outfit (soulmates will eternally color coordinate, even if they have not met one another yet, and often times have similar patterns in their clothing)

(Thank you @symwinter and @desiiigirl for this ask! I had a ton of fun writing it, so I hope you enjoy!)

“We’re here live tonight at the Carrousel du Louvre where Audrey Bourgeois is hosting her biggest party yet! Celebrities of all kinds will be invited, including Jagged Stone, Gabriel Agreste, and MDC herself! Stay tuned to catch sight of these incredible fashion icons!”

Marinette drew in a deep breath to calm her nerves as her miniature limo drove up to the front entrance. She’d been to plenty of parties before hosted by celebrities, but none as big as this. There were going to be reporters everywhere who would hold her under a magnifying glass all evening and powerful, influential people that she would have to tip-toe around to make a good first impression. On top of that, this was going to be the night she revealed her exclusive designer’s dress that she’d kept a secret for the last six months! It was an extremely important event for her, and she didn’t want to mess anything up.

The limo pulled to a stop in front of the red carpet, causing Marinette’s breath to catch in her throat. She quickly checked her hair and makeup, then smoothed out the corners of her dress.

“You can do this.” She muttered to herself. “You’ve already made it this far. Now, you get to show the world why.”

The driver opened her car door, and Marinette offered the reporters a bright smile as she stepped outside. Screams of delight and excitement swept over the crowds of people that were huddled on both sides of the carpet. Cameras were flashing everywhere, almost blinding her, but Marinette kept an elegant stride despite it as she signed a few autographs.

“Ladies and gentlemen, MDC has just arrived at the gala, and may I say her dress looks absolutely dazzling!” A reporter to her left trilled. “The navy blue mixed with those silver dots and stars makes it look like the night sky! And the way the sheer fabric in sewn to the dress makes it look like the stars are trailing behind her as well! It’s truly a fantastic creation, especially with that diamond, crescent moon necklace to compliment it! Could this be that secret design that MDC’s corporation has been hinting about for so long?”

Marinette tried to contain her grin, but by the time she walked inside the Carrousel du Louvre, she was positively glowing. After spending many sleepless nights working on Starry Night- as her design was called - hearing the multitude of praises from the reporters was immensely satisfying. It made the whole project feel worthwhile.

“Oh, Marinette!”

Audrey Bourgeois, having heard the commotion, waltzed over to the Louvre entrance to greet her. She seemed to be as fashionable and haughty as ever, and Marinette pulled an extra bright smile in an effort to please the woman. "Bonjour Audrey." She said politely. “It’s wonderful to see you again. Thank you for inviting me to your party.”

“Oh, think nothing of it!” Audrey replied, linking her arm with Marinette’s to guide her into the heart of the party. “I’ve been dying to speak with you about your latest designs, anyway. You’ve certainly made a name for yourself since the first time we met.”

A bit of tension melted from Marinette’s shoulders at the comment, and she felt a more genuine smile settle onto her lips. The last time she saw Audrey was when she’d been offered that job in New York, the same job that she ended up declining. It was good to know that Audrey wasn’t holding a grudge against her for that.

“Yes, these last two years have been quite eventful.” Marinette agreed. She’s managed to build a small company out of her designs that’s only continued to grow. The fact that she’d already designed things for Jagged Stone and Gabriel himself definitely helped her take-off.

“Indeed. Even my customers all the way in America have heard of you, which is why I wanted to propose a collaboration between us.”

“A collaboration?”

“Yes! Imagine how much popularity you’ll gain if we-”

“Audrey! Audrey Bourgeois!”

Audrey’s pleasant expression quickly soured when someone from across the room called out her name, interrupting whatever proposition she was going to make.

“What is it?” The woman snapped. “I’m busy.”

A man stepped forward from the crowd, his countenance stern and unimpressed. “We were supposed to talk about the location of your next fashion show. Need I remind you that I have other business I need to attend to tonight?”

Audrey huffed and rolled eyes. “Fine, fine, we’ll talk then. Marinette, dear, do me a favor and stay put while I go discuss a few matters with M Laurence.”

Marinette nodded and took to idly surveying the room while the two strolled off to another corner of the Louvre. She wasn’t sure why Audrey would have to leave to talk about fashion show locations, but she supposed it also wasn’t any of her business either. Everyone had their own way of working, right?

The Carrousel du Louvre was an extraordinary place, especially with the gold and silver decorations lining the walls. Lights reflected off of the glass pyramid that dipped into the center of the room, making it shine almost as brightly as it would in the day, and the floors were polished so well that Marinette could actually part of her reflection in it.

The guests were no less remarkable than the setting too. Save for a scarce few, she could recognize every face in the crowd, be it through newspapers, magazines, movies, or heads of rival companies. A part of her almost miniscule in the presence of such greatness. Audrey certainly knew how to throw an enchanting party.

“Yo, Marinette! Is that you?”

A voice that Marinette immediately recognized yelled out to her, and she turned around with an eager smile to greet them.

“Uncle Jagged! When did you get here?”

Jagged wormed his way out of the crowd with a wide grin. “I should be asking you the same thing! That dress looks great by the way.”

Marinette giggled and offered him a little spin. “Thanks! It took me forever to finish it. How have you been?”

“Oh, the usual. I’ve been rock and rollin’ to my heart’s content. Have you tried the food here yet?”

“Afraid not. Audrey told me to stay put until she came back from a meeting with somebody.”

Jagged scoffed and gently took her by the arm. “Audrey Shm-audrey. You’re an adult now! You can do whatever you want, like coming to try these over-priced cream puffs with me.”

Marinette snorted, but before she could reply, a cacophony of squeals tugged her attention to the front entrance of the Louvre. Someone new was joining the party, and it had the reporters quite excited.

“It appears that Felix Culpa has decided to come to the gala after all! There was speculation of him skipping out, but we’re happy to see him regardless!”

Annoyance swirled in the back of her mind at the mention of the actor, though she tried to hide it for the sake of civility. Ever since she started her small fashion business, Felix Culpa has been indirectly stealing her designs and wearing them without giving her an ounce of credit. She’s not sure how, since she’s jumped through who knows how many hoops to keep her projects a secret, but he does. Magazines, social media, behind-the-scenes pictures from his movies- anything he appears in, he’s wearing something of hers, be it a t-shirt or a tuxedo or a button-up shirt with jeans. It was infuriating, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not figure out where the leaks were coming from. No one was sending out emails, no one was going to visit him in person, and no one was posting any pictures of the working process online. And yet, he still managed to match his outfit with everything she created.

She couldn’t even sue him for copyright! Because, technically, all of the outfits that he’d worn so far had been made from a mix of his own wardrobe, and that, unfortunately, wasn’t a crime.

Whatever, she thought to herself with a slight shake of the head. At least he can’t copy me tonight.

“What’s this?” A reporter gasped. “Folks, I’m not sure if I’m actually seeing this, but Felix Culpa has just stepped out in a silver tuxedo with a navy, button-up shirt underneath that matches MDC’s outfit exactly!”

Marinette’s jaw had to have dropped to the floor when she heard those words. How was that possible? There was no way Felix could have coordinated his outfit with hers! No one even knew what she was going to be wearing! Unless this some insane coincidence?

“Oh, Look at that! He even has a small, diamond star clipped to his tie! Could Felix Culpa be dressed as MDC’s moon?!”

Marinette whirled around to face the entrance. This was most certainly not a coincidence. Even if he did decide to wear a silver tux tonight, nothing should have prompted him to wear a diamond star clip. Not unless he was trying to copy her designs again.

“Marinette? Are you alright?” Jagged Stone asked, noticing the sudden shift in her mood.

“I’m fine.” She said, forcing a leveled tone as she eyed the door. “I’m just going to go greet M Culpa, if you don’t mind.”

“ No problem! Come find me by the hors d'oeuvres when you’re done.”

Marinette didn’t bother throwing Jagged a tight smile as she stalked towards the door. Instead, she focused on how, exactly, she was going to call this esteemed actor out on his indirect theft without making a scene. This was a high class party, and she couldn’t afford to make a fool of herself. At the same time, however, she desperately needed to know how he’d been matching her outfits to a fault.

Felix Culpa strode into Louvre a moment later, wearing the very tuxedo that the reporter had described. The silver jacket and dress pants matched the glittering stars on her dress, while the navy blue, button-up shirt underneath matched the main color of her outfit. Don’t even get her started on the diamond clip! It was like the thing had been bought as a pairing with her necklace! The only way he could have coordinated with her that well was if he looked at a picture of her dress directly, which didn’t make any sense. He couldn’t have seen her dress! It’s been in her personal apartment since she started working on it!

His eyes scanned over the room leisurely, stopping when they landed on her, and for a moment, Marinette felt her anger falter, because my gosh was he a gorgeous man. She’d seen pictures of him plenty of times, but they apparently didn’t do him any justice. His strong jawline and defined cheekbones were perfectly framed by his pale, blond hair in a way she’d never noticed before. Then, there was his slender figure that the tuxedo seemed to cling to..

Marinette shook her head slight. Focus! There was a reason I was walking over here!

She offered the man a smile as she approached him, so as not to alarm him towards her somewhat hostile intentions, and he returned the smile with a slight nod.

“I assume you’re MDC?” He said in greeting.

Marinette nodded, barely holding back a sarcastic tone as she replied, “What gave me away?”

A small smile graced Felix’s lips, and he gestured to her dress. “I believe I’m supposed to be your ‘moon’.”

Marinette swore she felt her eye twitch. Was he being smug about it now?

“Yes, it would seem that way.. If I might ask, what prompted you to dress that way this evening?”

Felix glanced over his outfit thoughtfully, before giving her a little shrug. “Nothing in particular, I suppose. I simply felt like it.”

Marinette bit her tongue to avoid scoffing. He simply felt like it? No one accidentally coordinates their outfit with a specifically crafted dress because they ‘feel like it’. That’s just preposterous!

“I would like to compliment your work, though. It is my understanding that you brought that dress to life yourself?”

“..I did.”

“It’s phenomenal craftsmanship. I’m afraid I’ve only heard of you in name alone, but the praise clearly wasn’t over-exaggerated-”

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. Did he just say that he’d only heard of her in name alone? Meaning he hadn’t seen any of her other designs yet?

“-I couldn’t imagine stitching that many stars onto a single garment.”

“I’m sorry,” She politely cut him off. Did he expect to get away with lying straight to her face? “But did you just say you’d heard of me in name alone?”

He nodded. “I’ve been rather busy as of late and haven’t had time to check with things in the fashion industry.”

“Then how do you explain your other outfits?”

A blank expression fell across Felix’s features. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your other outfits.” Marinette repeated, almost through gritted teeth. “I have proof that you’ve been blatantly plagiarizing my designs for the past two years. How do you explain that if you supposedly haven’t seen any of my work until now.”

Felix raised a brow, appearing to be genuinely confused. “Mademoiselle, I can assure you that I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

This time, Marinette did scoff. How could he not know what she was talking about? If it had been once or twice, Marinette could write it off, but consistently matching her designs for two years? That’s no accident. How else would he manage to-

“Oh, there they are!” A reporter gasped. “MDC and Felix Culpa have already found each other! The moon and stars circling around each other as always. I’ve never seen such a fashionable pair of soulmates!”

Marinette froze, and from the looks of it, Felix froze too.

Soulmates.. Color coordination.. Was that why Felix had been ‘plagiarizing’ her outfits all of this time? Was that why he claimed not to know anything about it even though it was glaringly obvious? Had she been obsessing over a mystery that had had a reasonable answer right in front of her face all along?

Her eyes trailed down to his suit, the suit that matched hers perfectly, and the realization that washed over her nearly caused her to face-palm.

He hadn’t been copying her designs.

He’d been copying her outfit specifically.

Because they were soulmates.

“..What was that you said about my plagiarizing your designs?” Felix asked after a moment.

Marinette let out a defeated sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Well, I feel ridiculous now.”

A soft chuckle passed Felix’s lips, and she glanced up just in time to catch the spark of amusement dancing in his silver eyes. Gosh, this beautiful human being was supposed to be her soulmate now? How was she going to cope? How was she going to Alya, the person she’d been ranting to for a good year now, about this new development? Actually, did Alya know about this all along? She always did act strange when Marinette brought it up, with her sly smirks and mischievous smiles and-

Felix offered his arm to her. “I, personally, would love to hear about this ridiculousness if you don’t mind sharing.”

Marinette pressed her lips into a thin line, a blush creeping onto her cheeks, but she took his arm with a huff despite it. “I guess I might as well tell you. We’re probably going to be spending a lot more time together after this, anyway.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Felix replied lightheartedly, shooting her a smirk that made her heart skip a beat.

Marinette glanced away to regain some composure, but failed miserably as she only felt herself blush harder. Darn Felix Culpa and his stupid, breathtaking face.

She absolutely loved it.

(Send me a letter and I’ll do a thing!)

(The next one I’m going to be working on is J for Daminette!)

#asks #felinette #Soulmate AUs

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whatisthisidefk · 4 years ago

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The River, the Sea, and the Stars Part 3 (SFW version)

***

Andros danced with him in a wooded glade, willow weeds flowing like curtains around them. It was a wild dance, with no real steps, but they laughed and whirled around each other, hands clasped, until Andros pulled him close and kissed him. They fell to their knees on the mossy ground, then tumbled to lie under the moon in each other's arms.

Andros fought the choppy waves alongside him; they both needed every ounce of strength to make headway in the icy water. They reached the black rocks at the edge of the shore and hauled each other up to shiver in the early morning air. Andros tucked a lock of hair behind Therien's ear and leaned in to kiss him, salty like the sea.

Andros held him, golden skin reflecting the red of the fire beside them. Therien held him back, his arms wrapped around Andros's waist.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you," said Andros.

"I'm going to find you," he said.

Andros laughed, and said, "I'm waiting."

Therien woke.

The little room was cold and still, muffled from the outside world. If he closed his eyes, Therien thought he truly could be back in Provence. He'd felt removed from the world there, too. In those days, there hadn't been an Andros, nor a Dra, nor an American scholarship. All he'd had were a doting set of adoptive parents and a joy of swimming.

Grey morning light filtered through the thin paper blind and turned everything into a muted palette of cool greys and washed-out reds and blues. It felt like the air before a snowstorm, though it was far too early in the season for that.

Dra hadn't been joking. The dreams had been vivid and so real; he had to shake his head to dispel them. He'd never danced with Andros or made love to him like that, but they felt less like fantasies and more like memories.

If only.

He swung his legs off the bed and stretched. A hunt through his suitcase found him a clean change of clothes, though he figured he'd need to do laundry soon. Jeans and a t-shirt, with a hoodie from an international competition made it onto his body before he felt alive enough to emerge from his room.

"I'm awake," he called into the apartment. "Bonjour, Dra."

"Bonjour," came her reply from behind the rightmost door in the hall. "Go freshen up and I'll meet you in the living room shortly."

"Merci." He found the bathroom behind the middle door, or what he supposed was the bathroom. It was hard to tell under the forest of houseplants that grew in pots from every corner. Even the freestanding iron tub was surrounded not by a shower curtain, but a literal curtain of broad-leafed vines.

Therien caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked like hell, though better than he had the day before. He'd need a shave, but that could wait, as his kit was buried somewhere in his bag in the other room. He did manage to tame his unruly black curls into some semblance of fashionable and skimmed his hands over the short fade at the back and sides.

He scrubbed at his face with the washcloth. He hadn't properly washed since before the banquet, when he'd put on a hint of gold eyeliner to accentuate his eyes. Whatever brand it was, it lived up to its claims of staying power. He enjoyed the contrast against his dark olive skin and he'd wanted to feel as attractive as possible for whatever would happen with Andros.

That thought drove him to wash it off, as if that could wash away the fear and worry that still roiled in his gut. But once it was gone, he only felt more vulnerable, so he made a decision.

He dug through his suitcase to find the small toiletries bag and the eyeliner pen, then marched back to the bathroom to carefully apply the shimmering gold ink to his eyes again as if it was some kind of armor. When he finished, he stepped back.

Now he was ready.

***

Dra gave him an appraising look when she finally emerged from her own room. "Nice job on the eyes," was all she said, before she dumped an armload of things into the center of the living room floor. "Grab us each a cuppa, would you, love? Should be done steeping by now."

"What is all this for?" he asked, nudging a small hand axe with his foot as he went to the kitchen. "I thought we were going to find Andros. Are we camping?"

"In a way, yes. I hope you remember your time as an Éclaireur. You'll need it."

"I never told you about that, did I?" He handed her a teacup and sat on the ottoman to watch her sort through the pile.

"Oh, you most certainly did! 'Éclaireurs--Toujours Prêt!'" She laughed. "It was some college mixer where we had to tell things about ourselves. You were adorable, with your accent and your big eyes taking everything in."

"How you recall my scout motto after all this time is beyond me."

She shrugged a shoulder. "It was one of those phrases that stick in your mind. Once I learned it, it became a kind of chant. I liked how it sounded." She held up an old leather knapsack, the kind that would fetch hundreds of dollars at auction for its patina and excellent construction. Knowing Dra, she'd found it in some bargain bin at a thrift shop. "Here, you can have this one. We need to pack fairly light, but I don't want to be without a few comforts. You carry the firestarters, that little bag there."

Within an hour, the entire pile had been dispersed and neatly packed away between them. Therien had been given a belt--well, two belts, as one of Dra's was too small even for his narrow hips--and from it hung an array of bags and pouches of medical supplies, the hand axe, a multitool, and a wickedly sharp hunting knife that made Therien nervous. The satchel held the firestarters, a change of socks and underwear, and Therien's toiletries bag. Dra insisted that leaving a little space would be handy later, so he didn't argue.

Dra carried a similar set of tools, though she also added a variety of oilcloth bags of teas and herbs. Several vials of oils from the shop clinked in one of the square pouches on her own belt, and a coiled rope was fastened to her waist. Therien thought they rather looked like they were heading to a medieval faire rather than going to rescue his erstwhile boyfriend, and he told her so as they descended the stairs from her apartment into the empty shop below.

"That, my love, is because you don't know where we're going." They stood in the center of the shop, in a clear spot on the creaky wood floor. "I'm going to show you first, and then I can answer any of your questions. All right? Good. Now, stand back behind me. I need to concentrate."

Dra closed her eyes with a centering breath. She drew a large circle in the air and muttered something too softly for Therien to hear, then thrust both of her hands before her, crossing her arms straight out, fingers spread wide as she braced her legs as if against a strong wind. Her words came louder, more urgently, until she opened her eyes and flung her arms open.

With that motion, the air rippled and a faint sizzle of blue light scribed a circle before them.

Its edge rested on the floor like a tall oval mirror, but through it, instead of the opposite wall of the shop, Therien could see a wooded place, carpeted in yellow leaves. The scent of autumn came through and a breeze ruffled their hair. Therien felt weak in the knees. This shouldn't be real. It couldn't be real.

But then he remembered those golden chains stealing Andros away, and he decided that this was no less impossible.

"Step through," said Dra, her voice tight. "I can't hold this up for too long. I'm right behind you."

He wanted to hang back, but he made his feet start moving. Passing through the portal gave him a sense of vertigo, but once both feet were on the other side, it passed. He looked over his shoulder to see Dra stepping through after him. The image of the shop wavered as soon as she fully came through, then closed like an aperture and vanished.

Dra glanced around. "Not as close as I wanted to be, but it will do. This way." She strode in a seemingly random direction, though she moved with purpose. Even with his much longer legs, Therien had to hurry to catch up with her.

"Where...is this place?" he asked, looking around. "How did you do that? What was that??"

She laughed but kept walking. "That was a portal. It cuts down on travel time like you wouldn't believe." She paused, adjusted her direction, and continued along whatever path she perceived. "And we're in upstate New York."

He stopped in his tracks. "Wait--what?"

"You can't get to the Feywild directly," she called over her shoulder. "But there are places where you can pass through the veil, and this is the one I know best. Keep up, sweetheart!"

"The Fey...what?" None of it made sense, but he tried gamely to follow his friend. At least she seemed to know what she was doing.

The area they hiked through was hilly and cold, colder than Northampton had been. After an hour of endless trees and falling leaves, Dra called for a short break. They sat on a large, flat rock at the top of the hill they'd just climbed, and Dra handed him one of her homemade granola bars. "We're almost there. I should tell you about a few things before we cross over."

"That sounds ominous." As if Therien hadn't seen and experienced actual magic just that morning. But he was trying, so hard, to accept everything as it came.

Dra took pity on him. "I know this is hard to grasp, and we don't have a lot of time to go over everything. But I'm going to prepare you as much as I can." She shifted to face him. "Andros and I...we're Fey. We live human lives, but we weren't born here. We came from the Feywild, and that's where we need to go now."

"Both of you?"

"Yeah, what are the odds, right? Northampton is a hub for all sorts of weird and mystical things. That's why I settled there, and that's why Andros was drawn there to UMASS for the swim team. I mean, there are schools with better programs, but no others that promised him the shelter he needed."

Therien frowned. "You were both my best friends," he said. "How did I not know?"

"He and I figured it out not long after we met, and we promised to watch out for each other." She looked down at her hands, turning them over and flexing her fingers. "We both cared for you, you know. He begged me not to tell you because it's never good for a mortal to get tangled up in Fey politics."

"And yet--"

She shrugged ruefully. "And yet, here we are. Now, I come and go as I please, though not often these days. Andros, though...he was always running from something. That's why he took the name he did. Andros Kaitos. It's Greek, for 'man who runs away'."

"That wasn't even his real name." Therien took a shaky breath. "How much else didn't I know about him?"

"Not much," she reassured him. "Everyone has secrets, even you. But he was usually an open book with you, bar the obvious. And," she put a hand on his arm, "he loved you. Loves, I mean. I wouldn't be doing this at all if I didn't think it was worth the risk to both of you."

He covered her hand with his. "I know. Go on. I want to be ready for whatever happens."

She leaned back on her elbows and looked up at the trees. Therien couldn't hear any traffic sounds, just the wind in the canopy above and the calls of songbirds, the rustle of dry leaves on the ground.

"Andros had an assigned place in the Feywild. He was created to be a river guardian. You see them in Greek myth a lot, and I suspect that's where his story began. River guardians come in many forms, depending on their origins, and some don't conform to any particular country's lore. In general, though, they manage a certain river or stream, and they're meant to be tied to that place at all times. Andros, though--he just couldn't sit still. And the Court to which he belonged was not known for kindness. He loved being in your world."

"So he ran away," Therien said, a question. Dra nodded.

"He escaped," she clarified. "Honestly, I'm surprised he avoided capture as long as he did. He never set down roots anywhere because he was terrified he'd be found."

Therien toyed with a leaf that blew across his foot. "It's my fault, then."

"No, no," Dra insisted, "Darling, it's not--"

"It is," he cut her off. "He said it himself that night. He'd let his guard down. That's because I caught him by surprise."

Dra studied him for a moment. "That might be," she said at length, "but it's still not on you. It was bound to happen one day. At least he's not alone, you know? Imagine if he'd been found before you could tell each other about your feelings. Imagine if he'd just disappeared without anyone around!" She glanced away. "If he'd just vanished, you might not have thought to call me. You wouldn't have learned about any of this."

He tried to imagine it, as she said. What if he hadn't been there? What if Andros had just not shown up for practice, or if they'd never spoken of their feelings? He probably wouldn't have been frantic enough to reach out to her in a moment of need. "You're right," he said aloud.

"Of course I am." She pushed herself off the rock and brushed her legs down. "Okay. Once we reach the top of the mountain, I'll need you to step only in my footsteps. That's how things work."

"Oui, mon amie."

She kept up her lecture as they resumed their walk up the hill. "The Feywild is a beautiful place, but it's called wild for a reason. Things can be as deadly as they are pleasing to the eye, and trickery abounds. There are strict rules in place that may not be broken, and that has caused the Fey folk to learn and exploit every loophole imaginable."

The hill steepened, and Dra slipped a little on the leaves. Therien helped her stand, and stayed by her in case it happened again. Even at his current peak fitness level, Therien found himself breathing hard over those last few yards to the top of the hill.

Or ravine, he realized, looking back at the way they had come. The disturbed leaves showed their passing, the path stretching down and out of sight between the trees.

But when he turned around, the scene ahead made him gasp. Aside from the slight marring of the countryside by a row of power lines and a distant cell phone tower, he could see for miles of rolling hills that turned into mountains at the horizon. The valley floor was carpeted with trees in hues of orange, yellow, brown, and occasionally red. A pair of eagles sailed above in great circles, and a flock of crows took flight and resettled not far off.

If the entrance to the fey realm was anywhere, surely this seemed as good a place as any.

Dra tugged at his arm. "This way. Remember, step in my footsteps exactly. Even if it seems silly or redundant. Got it?"

"Got it." His heart pounded. He trusted Dra. He trusted her. He had to.

She checked behind her with each step to be sure he was following her instructions. They walked toward an apparently random tree, but then circled around it to the right--counterclockwise--until they crossed their original path. Dra wove them between a series of saplings and hopped over a pointed stone that stuck out of the ground. The next tree they approached, they went around clockwise and continued toward a natural arch formed of a fallen tree caught in the crook of another.

"Through that," said Dra, startling him, "and we'll be in the Feywild." She glanced up at him and held out her hand. "Ready?"

"I trust you."

The corner of her mouth quirked up. "I'll take that as a yes. Let's go save your boyfriend."

They walked through.

***

#river sea stars #jenny writes #original fiction

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victoriaholmeswriting · 5 years ago

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Daughter of the Pearl

Chapter One: The Governor’s Ball

Read it on AO3!

Rating: M

Words: 2473

A/N: This fic (at least this chapter, anyway) is loosely inspired by the fic “Ballrooms and Battlefields” by @imaginepirates. I highly recommend their fic; I absolutely adored it!!

A/N 2: This chapter is long, so buckle up!

The corset gripped her torso like an iron fist as (Y/N) Barbossa, the daughter of the much-feared pirate captain, walked up the stairs of Governor Swann’s mansion. She was accustomed to binding her breasts everyday, but not her waist. This was just ridiculous. What were they thinking? Did fancy-to-do women not breathe?

She pushed the questions out of her mind. The absurdities of the English Aristocracy did not matter at the moment. She needed to concentrate on getting into this ball.

There was only one guard standing before the large double doors, but he looked to be in a rather unpleasant mood. The redcoat scrutinized her with blood-shot eyes; eyes that told her the reason for his nasty demeanor -- a severe headache from last night’s indulgences.

“Where’s your escort, miss?” he asked as she reached him, cutting off the pleasantries she had prepared.

Using every ounce of self-restraint she had to continue smiling instead of rolling her eyes in the exact same manner as her father, she replied, “Surely, you will forgive the absence of my escort as my father is presently abroad.”

Lie with a hint of the truth and a bushel of confidence. Her father’s teachings echoed in her head. She had been quite young when he first told her this. Now, she was almost better at lying than her father -- a fact that lead to a promise between them never to lie to the other.

The abrasive redcoat was still eyeing her suspiciously and trying to work through what to do with his mead-muddled brain, when a gruff voice intervened. “An exception can be made under the circumstances, Private.” A blonde man about her height with a cocky grin kissed her hand. “Especially for a beautiful specimen such as this.”

This night was really going to test her patience and restraint.

“Thank you, lieutenant,” she said, glancing at his uniform and with He’s your way in. Don’t stab him. He is your way in. Do. Not. Stab. Him. repeating in her head.

The musicians struck up a new song. It was beautiful with delicate emphasis on the cello. A harmonious medley that was far from the chaotic hymns of Tortuga. Several of the fancy-to-dos made their way to where the music must be coming from to dance.

The lieutenant followed her gaze and smirked. “May I steal a dance from you?” He still had hold of her hand.

She brightened her smile ever so subtly and took a slight step closer to him. “I would be delighted!” She most certainly was not, but she was better at hiding her ulterior motives than the man leading her to the ballroom, whose unsavory expectations were written so plainly they may as well have been written on a sign around his short neck.

“Arriving to the center of the room, the lieutenant abruptly pulled her flush to himself before starting to dance. She concentrated hard on keeping her composure, though she was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

Just this one dance, then I can mingle, get the information for Father and leave, she secretly fumed as he swung her around.

He pulled her close again, but, this time, the hand that pressed her against him was too low to be proper. And she could feel him growing hard against her hips.

Fury boiled over -- throwing her cover out the window. She shoved his chest wither her free hand, but his grip only tightened.

“Let go of me,” she growled, a menace in her eyes that had sent pirates scuttling away.

“Now, now,” he threatened, “our dance is not quite done.”

“Oh, I would rather disagree.”

The lieutenant’s face blanched at the sound of the deep, polite voice laced with a careful amount of suave sarcasm. He dropped his hands and hastily backed away.

A tall, handsome Royal Navy officer put himself between them. He glared at the now cowering lieutenant with a rage he was struggling to contain.

“Cap-Captain,” stammered the slimy bastard.

Her eyes snapped up to the taller man. Could this be the captain that has brought down so many pirates in recent years? She took in his appearance, wanting to resign it all to memory so she could pass it off to her father later.

Dark-brown hair; authoritative posture; stern, but handsome face; broad shoulders; pale, soft-looking skin; green eyes with a hint of grey like the sea during a storm….

She shook the spiraling thoughts away. Focus, Barbossa! There’s still a job to be done.

“Yes, that would be my title.” The captain’s voice dripped with venom. “Now, go patrol the fort before I...discover reason to demand your resignation.”

The lieutenant swallowed hard, taking a few steps back before turning on his heel and all but running out of the mansion. The captain’s glare followed him until he was out of sight.

When he turned to face her, she was surprised by the dramatic shift in his expression. The anger was still there, but it was overshadowed with concern and apology. Those mesmerizing eyes were so honest -- almost vulnerable -- as he spoke.

“I am so sorry for my subordinate’s deplorable behaviour.” His words were rushed and breathy. “I swear I will deal with him later. But…. Please, tell me how I can make amends to you.”

She was once again taken aback. His genuine kindness and chivalry was something she had never experienced in a life of piracy. She suddenly found herself deeply intrigued by the rather young captain and desperate to keep his company as long as possible.

“Dance with me,” she said, praying she didn’t sound as pathetic as she felt.

He blinked several times and furrowed his brow, looking like she had spoken to him in another language. “I’m sorry?”

“Grant me a dance with my rescuer and all will be forgiven,” she bargained, mustering up her briefly forgotten confidence and adding the coy smile to match.

The kind, young face relaxed a bit, though he blinked several more times and studied her face carefully as if he would find something to indicate he’d misunderstood.

“Of course,” he agreed, deciding he had heard her correctly. He tentatively held one hand out to her and waited for her to take it.

For the third time, she was completely stunned by the kindness displayed by the gentleman in front of her. She asked him to dance with her, but he made no more towards her. Instead, he waited for her to close the distance. The stark difference between him and the bastard he’d sent running -- and most of the men she’d known in her life aboard the Pearl -- was astonishing.

A new song began, slightly jarring her back to where she was and why she was there. She took his hand, marveling at how soft it was despite the calluses -- and how well hers fit into it.

Stepping towards him, she found breathing difficult in a way that had nothing to do with the corset.

“May I ask your name, miss?” he asked as they began to dance.

“You wish to know my name?” she questioned. Causing his brow to furrow again.

“Is that such an odd request?” A hint of the snark she’d heard in his voice earlier returned beneath the polite concern, though it seemed more playful this time.

She shrugged as she moved around him, consciously concentrating on not getting distracted by the odd sensation growing in her chest. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t be given how pleasantly opposite you are compared to my last dancing partner.”

Renewed disgust flashed like lightning in his stormy eyes. “He didn’t even ask for your name?” The question was forced through clenched teeth.

“Forgive my boldness, Captain, but I rather don’t think it was my name he was after.” She dropped her gaze for a moment, pushing the thoughts conjured by that reality out.

The captain swallowed, his gaze becoming a bit distant. “No, I don’t believe it was.” He dropped his head, refusing to meet her eyes.

Gently, she placed a hand on his cheek, not caring how improper it might appear, and tilted his face so she could look him in the eyes. “I am eternally grateful to you, Captain….”

“Norrington,” he finished. “But, please, call me James.” His face grew pink and warm beneath her palm. The blush blossomed so far, she wondered if his chest had gone pink as well.

No! Do not think of that! You will soon be returned to the Pearl and he will be hunting your kind.

But that feeling in her chest blazed brighter as a small, beautiful smile tentatively appeared on his face, relaxing the clenched jaw. Everything about him seemed to relax with her touch.

“Thank you, James,” she breathed, heart fluttering. “My name is (Y/N).”

The beautiful smile grew. “It was my honour, (Y/N).”

The music stopped.

People moved past hem, some casting scrutinizing looks their way, as the musicians laid down their instruments and excused themselves for a brief respite.

(Y/N) dropped her hand (noting with silent glee the disappointment that replaced it); James took a step back that looked to have physically pained him.

He opened his mouth to say something. (Y/N) perked up; a deep desire to hear whatever he had to say filled her very being.

“Captain Norrington!” A scrawny, curly-headed servant boy ran up to him. The top of his head hardly cleared James’ elbow. She would have found him adorable if she did not despise him for the intrusion.

“What?” James snapped at the boy.

The boy froze in alarm, eyes wide. “G-Governor Swann wishes to speak to you about Tortuga, sir.”

James’ eyes shot from the boy to (Y/N). They bore into her, clearly looking for some recognition or revelation born from the boy’s words in her features. Of course, she knew about Tortuga -- in fact, she had been there many times and she knew her father was planning to go there for supplies upon their departure from Port Royal.

Could this be the raid Father caught wind of? She suddenly realized Captain Norrington might hold the information she’d donned the bloody corset for.

She needed to play her cards well.

(Y/N) allowed her brows to knit ever so slightly as she feigned ignorance. “Tortuga? Sounds rather odd. What is it?”

James said nothing for a moment as he considered her, but must have come to the conclusion that he could trust her.

Fool.

He sighed and addressed the boy first. “Very well, run along, I shall join him presently.”

James looked around before stepping closer again and speaking so that only she could hear. “Tortuga is a notorious pirate town not all that far from here. I will be leading a raid on the town in search of known pirates and other such heathens to bring them to justice.

(Y/N) admired the man in a new light upon hearing this whispered declaration. This was indeed the ruthless young officer flying through the ranks, taking down countless pirates as he went. The handsome, kind gentleman was the stone-hearted pirate hunter whose rumored raid had inspired Captain Barbossa to send his beloved daughter to this ball.

But the man studying her features for any sort of reaction was not so cold as the stone-hearted bastard she’d heard stories of in recent years. She had seen the blinding rage and sense of heroics to be sure, but this man’s heart was not stone. Of that, she was quite sure.

She smiled sadly, placing a hand on his upper arm. “I shall pray for your safe return, James,” she promised sincerely, gently caressing his arm.

His beautiful smile returned, brighter than before. “May I be so bold as to hope for another dance after I have spoken to the governor?”

“I would be delighted!” she answered sweetly, concealing the confusing pain that constricted her heart. Why did it suddenly hurt so much to lie to him -- someone she hardly knew?

No. That was the thing. She truly did wish to dance with him again. But now that she had the information she came for, she needed to get back to the Pearl. It would be best to set sail while the ball was still in full swing. That was the plan. She knew that. She helped develop that plan. So, why was she now hesitating?

Pull yourself together! You are a Barbossa and, if he knew that, he’d arrest you or even kill you right here and now!

Wouldn’t he?

She forced her mind to shift back to the task at hand as James beamed at her before excusing himself to answer the governor’s summons.

Once he was out of sight, her smile dropped, no longer caring to keep up appearances. She wandered for a few moments before locating the door to the garden and slipping outside.

The garden was vast with high walls and hedges, but a stretch of wall directly to the left of the door had vines that would be easy to scale. Laughter drifted from somewhere to the west, but there was no one in sight.

Careful as to not make a sound, she tore the heeled shoes off her screaming feet and stashed them under the nearest bush. The stockings were resigned to the same fate.

“(Y/N)?” Her spine went rigid at the sound of James’ confused voice.

She turned to face the gentleman that had so captured her intrigue without any façades or barriers, unwilling to lie to him further when it was no longer necessary. Her favoured dagger was cold against her thigh, but she had no desire to reach for it.

James looked between her, the stashed articles, and the wall she’d hardly made two paces towards. “What are you doing?”

The hurt in his voice mirrored the expression on his handsome face. Guilt bubbled within her, adding itself to the myriad of other confusing feeling that began upon their meeting.

All false pretenses of propriety gone, she stepped right up to him and placed a hand on his cheek. He stiffened, but leaned into it, almost subconsciously, as he waited with furrowed brows for an answer that would never come.

She caressed his face with her thumb. “I hope we will meet again someday, Norrington.”

Before James could respond, she’d closed the distance between them, meeting his soft lips with hers.

He hesitated for a brief moment before surrendering to the kiss. It was gentle and sweet. Neither wanted it to end.

But just as quickly as it started, so the kiss came to an abrupt end.

Captain James Norrington stood there, stunned; only opening his eyes in time to see the first woman to get past his barriers dropping over the wall -- her face alight with adventure...and something else he couldn’t quite name.

Tags: @madshelily @klinenovakwinchester @tesserphantom @josiecarioca

#James Norrington #Norrington x Reader #commodore norrington #norrington fanfiction #potc #potc fanfic #norrington fanfic #barbossa!reader #pirate!reader #mentions intended rape #au #potc au #admiral norrington #captain norrington #reader insert #fanficiton #fanfic

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aonorunic · 5 years ago

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Moments for Us Alone, Byleth/Dimitri/Claude AU, Chapter 1: Reunion

Summary: Claude could not be more happy to have Dimitri and Byleth in Almyra. He would have two blissful months to spend with his lovers, stealing private moments that belonged only to them.

Notes: Here is the fluff I was talking about this morning. This is really just a series of fluff one shot, one word prompts. I'm using it as an opportunity to try and work through some characterization for these three, while also indulging in some shameless fluff.

I was trying to get the next chapter of History on Repeat done today as well, but I'm not happy with it so that isn't going to happen. I do start my new job tomorrow, so updates will be less frequent.

Read on AO3.

Claude felt like a small child on his birthday. He wanted to smile like an idiot, and bounce on his toes as he tried to get a better look at the newly arrived royal party. He wanted to sprint down the stairs and pull his spouses into his arms.

But he was king, and doing any of those things were considered undignified. He was already causing a bit of a stir by insisting on greeting the Fódlan party in the castle’s courtyard instead of the audience room. He had never much cared for rules, and in this instance he was more than happy to push his boundaries. Plus, he really wanted to be one of the first people to see Byleth and Dimitri. It had been almost six months since they were all in the same place, and it would be all too soon that they had to return to Fódlan. His eyes wanted to drink in the sight of them every moment he could until then.

Although the Kingdom and Church parties had met on their way, they were still to be received separately. Dimitri was the first into the courtyard, riding at the head of his entourage. He was the very image of what a king should look like on his white stallion. Due to the Almyrian heat, Dimitri had forgone his signature cloak, wearing lighter cottons layers than what were called for in the cold of Faerghus. They hugged his muscles, allowing Claude to see that no, his husband had most definitely not skipped on any of his training. Dimitri had also pulled his blond hair back, and that was a new look Claude could get behind.

Dimitri leapt from his horse, taking the stairs two at a time to reach Claude’s side. A strong arm found its way around Claude’s waist as Dimitri pulled the fellow king a step closer to him. Their lips met in a kiss that lasted a moment too long to be chaste, as one of Claude’s courtiers was so kind to inform them by coughing into his hand loudly behind them. Dimitri pulled back, but stayed close enough that their arms brushed against one another.

“A bit eager there, Your Majesty?” Claude teased.

Dimitri kept his smile, and oh Claude was so glad that was a habit that seemed to be sticking around, but there was a light dusting of a blush on his cheeks. “You know you wanted me to do that.”

True, Claude did. Claude would also like his husband to do many other things to him.

But the Church party was now coming up behind the members of Faerghus, and Claude’s mind turned to the thought of seeing his wife.

“Hilda insisted they come in second, something about a ‘dramatic impact,’” Dimitri leaned down to whisper in Claude’s ear. “She wouldn’t let me see Byleth this morning, so I think our dear wife got pulled into your former lieutenant’s scheme.”

Hilda’s pink hair was easy enough to pick out in the crowd. As soon as she caught Claude looking at her, Hilda shot him a wide grin and a wink. Yep, she definitely had something planned.

Leonie, Byleth’s ever constant bodyguard, reached a hand into the palanquin covered with intricately woven cloths. That was Hilda’s doing. Byleth would have been content to simply ride in like Dimitri had. The woman Leonie helped out of the litter was so stunning she took Claude’s breath away. He registered a soft gasp from the man next to him, and was glad he wasn’t the only one Byleth had an effect on.

Hilda had dressed Byleth in multiple layers of white diaphanous cloth, draped in such a way that she was not indecent by any means, but would be cool in the desert heat. The top cut in two at Byleth’s waist, folding back on itself to drape behind her, ending at the back of her knees. Light cotton pants dyed cream hugged her legs, a pink creped ribbon that was notably Alymrian in origin circling her hips. Claude smirked as he imagined Hilda giving up on her idea to put Byleth in a dress, and compromising on those simple, yet stylish, pants. Byleth wouldn’t even put on the archbishop robes Rhea used to wear; she always complained that she could not move in the things.

Someone had even taken it upon themselves to do Byleth’s hair. She never liked having it all up, but she had allowed someone to braid small sections together. It looked both simple and complicated depending on what angle someone looked at her from. Had he not known that both Petra and Dorothea were in Brigid, Claude would have expected to see them among those who had come with Byleth. A circlet of spun silver and gold, representing both Faerghus and Almyra rested atop it all.

And he knew Byleth did not care one ounce how she looked. In fact, her calm demeanor elevated the outfit in a way Claude had only seen Hilda pull off. When he managed to turn his eyes from Byleth and back to Hilda, she mouthed ‘worth it’ to him. He was going to have to find some way to thank that woman at some point.

“You look lovely,” Dimitri told her as Byleth joined them at the top of the stairs, taking her hand and kissing it like the gentleman he was.

“Do I?” Byleth looked down at the clothes, her expression somewhat puzzled. “Hilda insisted that my usual outfit would not be appropriate for my first appearance in Almyra.”

Claude took Byleth’s other hand, enjoying the nearness of her that he had missed over the last few months. It was just them. They were surrounded by courtiers and retainers, but for a brief moment it was just them.

“Welcome to Almyra,” he whispered to Byleth, leaning over to brush his lips against her cheek.

Byleth blessed him with one of her rare smiles, reaching up with the hand still gripped in his own to caress his cheek. “I missed you too, Claude.”

Claude chuckled. He had long ago accepted that Byleth could see straight through him.

“Shall we?” Byleth asked, reminding her husbands that there were duties to attend. “I’d like to get the politics out of the way as soon as possible.”

“I’d like that as well,” Claude agreed. “After all, the sooner we finish the sooner I get to see that stunning outfit on my floor.”

They both laughed as Dimitri’s blush reached his ears.

“All right, almost there.”

Claude found himself leading both of his very sleepy partners to his bedchamber, but it was somewhat slow going. Byleth was trudging along, but she was leaning so heavily against Claude he wondered if it was possible for someone to fall asleep while walking. He used his other hand to steer Dimitri. The other man insisted he was fine, but he had tripped multiple times, and Claude did not want to spend the rest of the night cleaning up a broken nose.

“The trip here really took a lot out of you guys, huh?” Claude teased as they finally reached their destination. Dimitri’s head fell onto his shoulder for the brief moment it took Claude to open the door.

“That welcome celebration certainly didn’t help,” Dimitri answered, his tone light. “You weren’t kidding when you said your people know how to throw a party.”

Once the door was open, Byleth let go of Claude’s arm and wandered over to the large bed in the center of the room, ignoring all the other finery. “Soft,” she sighed happily as she flopped onto the mattress.

Dimitri moved to follow her, but Claude stopped him. “Okay, let’s not mess up these nice clothes. Hilda would never let me hear the end of it.” Claude’s quick fingers made short work of Dimitri’s shirt. His pants were a bit harder as they required Dimitri’s own dexterity to be present, but working together Dimitri was eventually left in just his small clothes.

Claude deposited the taller man on the bed, grumbling right back as Dimitri muttered at his manhandling. “You want to get under the covers?” Claude asked.

“Does it required me to move?” was the barely intelligible response.

Claude sighed and shook his head. “Never mind.” He leaned down and brushed Dimitri’s hair out of his face, placing a soft kiss to his husband’s temple. “I’m just glad you’re getting some sleep.”

“Easier to do with you two.”

And oh how that made his heart ache in such a satisfying way.

Byleth was easier, receptive to Claude’s gentle touches that turned her this way and that. It was not long before Claude had her in the same state of undress as Dimitri. She opened her eyes briefly, reaching out her hands to Claude. He saw the look in her eye and shook his head.

“I know what I said when you arrived, but not tonight. You’re both too tired.” He leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “There will be plenty of time for us to make love later.”

He stepped back and started to remove his own clothes, only for strong arms to wrap around him and pull him down onto the bed. Claude took a moment to regain his bearings, and by that point he was already sandwiched between his spouses. Byleth had settled comfortably into the circle of his arms, while Dimitri’s arms were still wrapped around his waist, Claude’s back flush against the other king’s chest.

“Sleep now,” Dimitri demanded, nuzzling into the back of Claude’s neck.

“Well, if you insist.”

“Mmm.” Byleth hummed contentedly in agreement, mimicking Dimitri’s cuddling against Claude’s chin.

Claude allowed himself to bask in the state of utter contentment that had settled over him. He was happy and whole, and there would be two whole months of this. Even if they had not made love tonight, this warmth and joy of just being close to one another again was also more than acceptable.

Of course, when he was woken hours later by his lovers’ hands wandering over his body, that was just the icing on the cake right there.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem fanfiction #claude x byleth #dimileth #dimitri x claude #my writing #my fic #moments for us alone

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afewmarvelousthoughts · 6 years ago

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Stay Ch. 16

Master List

Pairing: Natasha X Reader (Female)

Summary: You have a gift, the ability to see other people’s innermost secrets. For years you used it to gather intel for the highest bidder when you take on The Widow. After she becomes more than a mark the two of you spend years stealing moments. Post snap you wait in your designated meeting place, look back on the sordid past you share with the woman you love and hope against everything that she’s still alive.

Warnings: Angst, and fluff, and feels oh my!

A/N: So yeah I swear I wroth an authors note for this... but idfk what happened.

ANYWAY! Thank you all for being so patient while I got my life together. This one is also short and sweet (guess that’s the mood I’m in). However, y’all should know me by now. This is just the calm before the storm.

Hope you enjoy this one my pumpkins!

Tags are open!

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @5aftermidnight@jeromethepsycho @marvel-randomness @daniellajocelyn @katecolleen @yanginginthere@wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @lesbian-girls-wayhaught @siriuslycloudy2

March 2007

At some point in the last five months, you’d stopped recognizing yourself. The woman in the mirror wasn’t Y/N. Her hair was different, down to even the eyebrows. Her accent distinctly that of a life long Londoner. She worked for an independent UK couture fashion magazine, chose wine over whiskey, and was distinctly heterosexual.

When the chance to work this job requiring deep cover came up in December you jumped on it. You didn’t want to be you anymore. The you that couldn’t be with the woman you loved. The you that was heartbroken. The you who was beginning to doubt that you’d ever be happy. Fuck her.

Being Charlie Daniels was far better. She was, of course, a real person. Just one who was now living comfortably in the Bahamas courtesy of MI6. Even legit agencies had use of freelance talent every now and then.

Settling into her life had been easy. Not setting her boss on fire or blowing his brains out daily was a different task altogether. Turned out that a magazine was a great front for a crime empire. Lots of international travel, young and beautiful and desperate men and women, money exchanged in countless untraceable ways, on and on. And this fucker was happy to take advantage of every single disgusting avenue it opened up.

You almost had everything you needed to hand to MI6, get your obscenely large payout, and get on to another gig while they threw all of these bastards into cells to rot for the rest of their miserable lives. Just one more trip. After whatever horrible things they lay out in Tokyo you’ll be set.

Tokyo is one of those cities you can lose yourself in. Like New York but better for its interesting balance of vibrancy and grounded reserve. You absolutely love it.

The whole point of the trip, at least on the surface, was to focus on Fashion Week Tokyo. Honestly, there was a part of you that wished this was your world. Nothing but runway shows and after parties. Writing about the latest trends rather than delving into the inner workings of the worlds miscreants

Oh well. It was nice enough to pretend. You had to admit that you’d miss Charlie Daniels once you shed this skin in a couple of weeks.

You’re sitting two people down from your boss at an underground show. The level of security here screams that there are other things going on behind the scenes but it’s still a room filled with a who’s who of the Japanese and international fashion communities.

This was your third show of the day, and you knew there would be a party after where you’d have to schmooze all while plucking information from your unsuspecting fellow guests. You’re exhausted. So rather than pay much attention to the show you let your mind wander.

When she walks out you feel her rather than see her. Slowly you turn your head to stare dumbstruck at the model walking onto the catwalk. Your heart begins beating against your ribs, your mouth goes dry, your hands shake.

It takes every ounce of control you have to keep your emotions in. To not scream “Natasha!” at the top of your lungs. To not grab her and run for the hills. Charlie Daniels and her easy life be damned. It’s hard but you manage.

As she turns and comes back down, passing now closer to you, her eyes don’t graze the crowd at all. Head up, shoulders back, she walks the runway like she’d been doing it for years.

The rest of the show is maybe ten minutes but it feels like years. You know the models are all attending the party. Eye candy for the high end guests.

It’s fairly easy to ditch your coworkers in the crowd as you try to find the best vantage point in the room without being too obvious. After a solid twenty minutes, you find yourself planning an escape route. Most of the models are milling about but she’s no where to be seen. You will find her.

But you know you can’t skip out just yet. At the bar, you order a red wine and make yourself seen. Charlie would never miss the whole party after all. You spend a bit chatting with designers and a few models, feigning interest in the whole thing until you hear your boss call out to you.

“Oy, Charlie!” Carl’s voice alone makes you want to put him down. When you turn he’s waving you over to the bar. Sighing heavily you head over.

You’re about ten feet away when you see her, head back laughing at something Carl or his friend had said. Both men are far to close to her for your liking and the hungry look on Carl’s face sets your blood boiling.

He slings an arm around your shoulders and you carefully coach your face to not show disgust. “Charlie here is my best writer. Doin’ some pieces for us on this whole thing,” he waves his other hand around wildly.

“Good to meet ya, Charlie, I’m Dan,” the other man, clearly American says.

“Likewise,” Natasha doesn’t react to the accent at all.

“This here is-”

“Natalie,” Natasha cuts him off, extending a hand to you. Holding her eyes with yours you take it. It’s like touching a live wire.

“Natalie is an American model working here in Japan. May be a good topic for a piece.” He ribs you leaning closer, “And a good piece for the office eh?” Suddenly that MI6 money seems far less appealing.

“I’d love that,” Natasha beams. “Why don’t you guys go mingle and Charlie and I can chat!” The men exchange a glance, but there’s plenty of fresh meat around to sink their teeth into.

Carl flashes you a greasy smile and a wink as he walks away. Thinking clearly that you’re going to snare this woman for him. You, unfortunately, had a few others. Not something you were proud of. Demands of the job you told yourself.

“She’ll take a vodka neat,” you tell the bartender.

“Yes,” Natasha smiles at him, “Whiskey for her. Makers if you have it.” He thinks nothing of it and makes your drinks.

“So, how’s modeling in Japan?”

“Probably about as good as writing for a sleazy jackal.”

You laugh, “That bad? What’s the goal.”

“Getting a cover,” you commend the clever word play.

“That’s a good goal. Long term?”

“Something like that.” She takes a sip of her vodka, “How long are you here?”

“End of the week.” Your skin itches to touch her. The men are rounding back. You hold her gaze and shift your eyes back to them. She catches on.

“Perfect! It’s so hard to have a good interview here, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely. Why don’t you come by my hotel?” You whip out your spare key card. “I’d love to get your story for the mag, maybe do a full feature.”

“A feature would be excellent exposure!”

“Wouldn’t it?” Carl slides up next to her. “We can get you all the exposure you could want Ms. Natalie.”

“Charlie was telling me all about it.” She flashes him a coy smile. “Thank you so much Charlie! I forgot I have a late fitting tonight for another show so I’ve got to run. But we’ll chat soon yeah?”

“Absolutely! It was so good to meet you Natalie.”

“Same! Bye!” She hurries through the crowded room and disappears.

“Busy girl.” Carl quips. “Whiskey?” You look down at the glass by your hand.

“Some guy sent them over,” you gesture to Natasha’s lipstick stained glass. “Seemed rude to refuse. Can’t stand the stuff though.”

“That’s a mans drink,” Carl laughs at his own perceived joke and you force a smile.

Somehow you make it through the rest of the evening. You’d refused to allow yourself to hope that she’d be here, too obvious to come the same night, better to wait. Kicking off your shoes you head straight to the mini bar and crack open a whiskey, downing it in one gulp.

“You really need to be more careful,” Natasha’s voice comes from the bathroom. “I mean not even checking around. Sloppy.”

“Charlie Daniels doesn’t have to check for Russian assassins in her bathroom,” a smile pulls your face so tight it hurts.

“Well, Natalie Rushman isn’t a Russian spy. So…”

You let your real accent resurface as you pull her into your arms, “Natalie Rushman, I don’t know if that’s clever or lazy.” She kisses you hard, tongue sliding over your lips hands gripping your ass.

“Mmm,” she hums. “Kinda like the accent.”

“Oh?” You revert to the clipped posh Londoner sound. “Would you rather be with Charlie? I hate to break it to you, she’s strictly into dick so you may need to get a bit creative.”

Natasha’s head falls back with laughter, “I’m always into a challenge but,” she cups your face in her hands, “I’d much rather Y/N, she’s got a cute accent too.” Your kiss is soft this time, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, honey.” Gently you push a strand of hair out of her face. “Is this smart? Are you gonna get-”

“I’m good. I wouldn’t be here if I thought there was risk.” She pulls away and tugs you toward the bed. “There’s no surveillance on me here, I check in every week, that’s it. This is strictly to build a cover.”

“Cover for what?” She gives you a sideways glance. “Right. National security.”

“Do you really want to talk about work?”

Smirking at her you push her back on the bed. “Maybe later.”

You lean down to her but she stops you by planting a strappy heel in the center of your chest. Trailing your fingers down her leg you snag a knife from her thigh holster. Carefully you slide the blade under the straps, the incredibly sharp edge cuts through the thin suede like it’s nothing.

“Those were very expensive you know,” eyes sparkling with desire.

You slip the shoe off and toss it aside. “I’ll buy you a new pair.” Your lips press against her ankle.

Everything in your life until her was so fleeting. Even your own name, the sound of your own voice, who you were… But with her, you were grounded. You weren’t anything but her’s, you were Y/N.

Suddenly you’re overwhelmed. Caressing her muscular calf you just stare at her eyes. Emerald green, dark liner, lids heavy with lust and exhaustion.

“Natasha…” Your voice cracks and you fight for composure.

“Y/N? What is it?” She shoots up, cradling your face in her hands.

You shake your head, unable to really find the words and unwilling to send this storm of emotions to her. “I just…” You cover her hands with your own. It’s not that you don’t want her, you do. But…

“Can we just… I just wanna hold you…” Her expression immediately softens, eyes sparkling a touch with tears. “Sorry… I… I just…”

“I’d love that, baby.” Tenderly her lips brush yours, then your cheeks, your forehead, your eyelids as they flutter closed.

You shed your clothes and crawl into the plush bed. Holding tight to one another you spend hours drifting in and out of sleep, covering the other with soft kisses. Before the sun rises your hands wander southward.

This time you don’t fuck one another senseless. It feels like you’re trying to memorize every curve, every sound, every subtle thing that marks being together. You both know you many not get to do this for some time. The knowledge aches but it doesn’t make having her any less sweet.

Post Snap

You lean your head back on the wall behind the booth. The crying man from last night is gone, you find yourself hoping that he’s resting peacefully somewhere… even though you know it’s pointless to hope for such things.

There are more people filling the bar than there was before. The TVs are off, radios turned up, reporters frantically trying to determine what happened. It was global, that was clear. All planes grounded, trains stopped, communications spotty due to damaged cell towers.

A man speaks frantically to someone who seems to be a friend that he was heading to Nuremberg from Budapest, how the roads are almost not navigable. He doesn’t know if his family is even still there but he has to find out.

Despite his distress, your lips curl a bit at the mention of Budapest.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #black widow #queer fic #wlw

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sunlightdances · 6 years ago

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Half of Your Heart (4/6)

Title: Half of Your Heart Author: Katie @sunlightdances Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Word count: 2,038 (this part) Summary: You and Dean spend some time one-on-one, and you overhear something you shouldn’t. Sam thinks he has an idea what they’re hunting. Rating/Genre/Warnings: This part is a little angsty. Some personal developments for our characters, and some plot movement too.

Tumblr is being dumb about links, so find the previous parts by going to my masterlist > Dean fics > Half of Your Heart > Masterlist!

(Quick author’s note: Oooof, you guys. I’m so sorry this has taken me so long. The long and short of it is that I’ve been feeling a little discouraged about this story, but it means a lot to me and I want to finish it. One more thing: my taglist for this story was deleted. If you asked me to be tagged, please send me an ask and I’ll make a new list. So sorry!)

“So.” Dean claps his hands together. “Target practice.”

You roll your eyes. “I want it on the record that I said this is a waste of time and unnecessary.”

“Everyone needs practice,” he says, arching an eyebrow at you in a way that you hate that you find attractive.

You try to refrain from rolling your eyes again and hope that he doesn’t see it, but the smirk on his face makes you think you’re not as sneaky as you thought you were.

“Look, we drove all the way here,” he says, referring to the training facility for Park Rangers on the outskirts of Rocky, “We might as well get some shots in.”

You sigh. “Fine.” Before he can say anything else, you aim your gun, taking a deep breath before firing, emptying your clip. You already know you’re spot on, and have to really fight to keep the smug smile off your face.

Dean looks speechless for once, and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you.

“Are you happy now?”

He turns to you, an unreadable look on his face. He clears his throat. “That’s-- uh, yeah. Good shots.”

“I appreciate your worry, Dean, but I promise I know how to look after myself.”

His jaw is tense, his face still lined with concern. “I know you do. I just--” He takes a deep breath. “Have you heard about the bear attacks?”

You frown. Of course you’ve heard about it. They briefed you before you started your job, but you didn’t want to think too hard about it. You figured if you were careful enough and did your job, no one else would get hurt.

“I’m not saying you should shoot a bear, okay, but you get why I’m a little on edge.”

You nod, an idea springing up in your head. “Let’s get out of here. I’ve got just the thing.”

Dean looks skeptical, but he does as you ask. You leave the firing range and tell Dean to leave the Impala where it is. You walk with him down the dirt road towards the Visitor’s Center. It’s relatively warm today, the sun warming your skin and making your mood brighten.

You and Dean chatter idly as you walk. He doesn’t tell you much about him, but he tells you enough. He’s got plenty of embarrassing stories to tell about Sam, too. In turn you tell him more about your parents and the summer trips you’d take to National Parks with them every year.

At the Visitor Center, you drag him to the gift shop with you, and head to the ice cream counter at the small restaurant inside. He rolls his eyes, but goes with you, and refuses to let you pay. You smile, ducking your head, wondering why this feels so… so intimate. It’s ice cream. You’re a grown ass woman.

Still, when you sit down at a picnic table outside with Dean, it feels different. You find yourself cataloguing the details of his face, the freckles scattered across his cheekbones and the way his eyes crinkle at the sides when he smiles.

He catches you looking, and you blush, looking away quickly.

His spoon clatters into the plastic dish. He leans on his elbows, closing the distance between you slightly. “Am I imagining this?” He asks, and you feel your heart rate speed up.

“What?”

He swallows, gesturing back and forth between the two of you. “This. I-- I feel like…” He trails off.

“I feel that way too.” You tell him.

Dean feels like he’s on a roller coaster. Every ounce of self preservation he has is screaming at him to put the brakes on. He’s reading too much into this, he’s feeling frustrated and on edge and it’s messing with his judgement.

But then he looks at her, the way her hair shines in the sunlight and the delight on her face as she waves at some small kids who are sitting near them, and all his doubts just disappear.

He’s talking before he can stop himself. “Am I imagining this?”

She’s caught off guard, clearly, but he can’t stop now.

“This. I-- I feel like…” He doesn’t want to finish his sentence. He feels crazy. He knows he can’t do this, he can’t get attached. He can’t… but he wants to.

“I feel that way too,” she says, and something deep inside him clicks into place.

“We barely know each other--” Dean says, shaking his head.

“I know enough.”

They walk back to the car and Dean feels like a damn teenager. They keep stealing looks at each other, Dean’s grin stretched wide as a breathless laugh leaves her lips. They’re walking close enough that their hands are brushing together every so often, and he wants to bottle up this day. He wants to remember this feeling, always.

He doesn’t get this very often. This feeling of contentment. “The ice cream break was a good idea,” he tells her, grabbing her hand and tugging her to a stop when they get to the car, his thumb rubbing over the top of her hand. “Thanks.”

“Just don’t brag about it to your brother when we get back.”

He groans in mock offense. “You ruin all my fun.”

He becomes even more determined to solve this case on the way back as he glances at her out of the corner of his eye, her hair blowing in the breeze coming from the open window, eyes shut as she inhales the warm air.

When they get back, Sam is there, greeting them with a wave and a smile. He raises his eyebrow at the way Y/N sticks close to Dean’s side, a shy smile on her face. She squeezes Dean’s hand before heading off in the direction of her cabin.

Dean shoots his brother a warning glance, almost daring him to say anything. “Don’t. Look, we’re killing this thing. Tonight. Whatever it takes.”

Sam looks skeptical, but doesn’t argue. “Let’s hit the books, then. I think I have an idea of what it might be.”

The entire day with Dean feels like something out of a dream. It’s absolutely not what you thought would happen when you headed off to target practice with him, but you’re not sorry it happened.

You know this is probably a dumb idea, but there’s something about him. You feel the connection as strong as if there were a literal string connecting the two of you, and the relief you feel knowing he feels it too… it’s kinda overwhelming.

You have to do admission fee checks for the next few hours, so you head down to the entrance of the campground, fully aware you’re going to spend the rest of your shift daydreaming anyway. You can’t remember the last time you felt like this.

The hours fly by.

When the sun goes down, you shut up the entrance building and do a last sweep of the campground before heading back to the cabin. On your way back you see the light on in Sam and Dean’s trailer, and a smile blooms on your face in spite of yourself.

You veer off the path and head towards the now-familiar dwelling, raising your first to knock. You can just make out a whispered conversation on the other side of the door.

“The entire reason we’re here is to catch this thing. Staying in the campground was supposed to do that. This is clearly above our pay grade--”

Sam’s voice.

“We can’t just leave! There are people sleeping in there every night that have no idea what’s out there, and she--”

“Look, Dean. I know you like her. But we never planned to stay this long. We need back up. We can’t do this by ourselves.”

You hear Dean groan. “God dammit. I knew posing as Rangers wasn’t going to work for long. You know, we’re lucky that this thing--”

You’re pushing open the door before you can stop yourself, blood running cold at what you’re hearing. “What the hell are you talking about?” You feel like you’re going to be sick.

“Shit,” Sam hisses, turning to face you.

“Posing as Rangers? What-- what do you mean?” You will your voice not to shake. “Tell me the truth.”

“Just wait a minute,” Dean asks, hands out in front of him in a placating manner.

Before you can think about it, you’re pulling your sidearm from your waistband, angry because the only reason you even have it on you right now is because you actually believed he worried about you without a way to protect yourself -- what a crock of shit. “If you’re impersonating federal officers, then you’re under arrest.”

“Woah, hey. Slow down,” Sam says. “Let us explain.”

“You can explain to the Director,” you hiss through clenched teeth, angry at the tears you can feel building up.

“We never lied to you about who we are--”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Are you fucking serious?”

Dean deflates. “Just let me--”

“I’m tired of waiting.” You reply, “I’m turning you in.” You turn on your heel, leaving the RV as fast as you possibly can, your only thought about getting back to your cabin and getting to the Visitor Center.

Dean’s voice comes from a distance behind you as he calls your name. You should have known he would follow you.

“Please, get out.” You say flatly, starting to throw some clothes in an overnight bag. “I’m going to the Visitor Center. I’ll stay in Estes tonight.”

“I was going to tell you. Why we’re really here.”

You whirl around, anger radiating off you. “Oh yeah? You were going to tell me eventually? After you got me to trust you?” You clench your jaw hard to keep from crying. “Well, spit it out then.”

Dean looks pained, looks like he wants to reach for you, but he doesn’t. “We’re here because the Director knows our friend, Bobby. He reached out when it seemed like the bear attacks weren’t random, and he asked us to come help.”

“What - you think some… some serial killer is out there? Is that what this is? You’re undercover cops?”

His smile is bitter. “Something like that. Look -- whatever’s out there? It’s dangerous. It’s-- it’s not human.”

You freeze, a laugh of disbelief bubbling out of you. “Oh, god.” You turn away, pushing your hand through your hair. “You’re crazy. Both of you.”

“You have to trust me--” His hand lands on your shoulder. You shake it off angrily.

“Why should I?! You lied to me!” You hiss, though it comes out as a half-whisper. You’re so angry and hurt you can feel it vibrating through you.

His face is open, desperate. “No. I didn’t lie.”

“You-- you’re not who you told me you were.”

His hand is outstretched like he wants to reach for you, “You never would have believed me if I would have told you why I was here.”

You feel suffocated. “I can’t do this right now. I want you to leave--”

He’s shaking his head before you even finish your sentence. “I can’t leave you here. Look, you have no reason to trust me, and I get that, but if you stay here--”

“I can take care of myself! I’ve always taken care of myself and I don’t need your help.” The words come out more forcefully than you intended, but you’re so upset you can’t keep them in.

You can’t stand the look on his face. He’s hurt, he’s worried, but most of all, he understands and you think that’s what hurts most of all. You trust him. Deep down, you do trust him. So why is it that the one person you’ve felt a genuine connection with in the last five years has just turned out to be another person who manipulated you?

“Please go. Please.” Your voice cracks, and you think that’s what does it.

His face crumples. “I-- okay. I’m sorry. Today was-- it wasn’t fake. It was real, okay? Just... call me if you need anything and I’ll find you.”

You don’t say anything.

A minute later, you hear the familiar sound of the screen door closing, and then there’s nothing.

Silence.

Tumblr is being dumb about links, so find the next part by going to my masterlist > Dean fics > Half of Your Heart > Masterlist!

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #spn reader insert #half of your heart fic

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kpurereactions · 6 years ago

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Im Here Ch. 7

Hey Hey Heyyyyyy its MAAAAFIAAAAA TIMEEEEEEEEE

Kitty

Pairing: Jaebum x Reader

Rating: Drama, Angst, Smut, Fluff WARNINGS: Language, Eventual Violence, Lots of Smut Later on

Part | Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

You're anxiety surfaced the moment your eyes laid on him, but though you knew you shouldn't be trusting him you were desperate. You could tell by the way the guys behind you tensed that they knew your history, more specifically your history with BamBam. Without making eye contact with any of them you motioned for Bam to follow you, taking him through the house and out to the back yard. You could tell that no one was comfortable with you being with him, especially outside but you needed him.

“So are you going to tell me what's going on?” BamBam asked in a soft tone, trying whatever he could to not scare you.

“I'm sick of people putting themselves in danger for me.” You said folding your arms across your chest, your voice coming out as cold and bitter.

“So why am I here?”

“I want you to teach me how to use a gun. No one in this house would even think about thinking about letting me touch one so I called you.” You said, your voice fading towards the end of your sentence.

“You want me to teach the girlfriend of the one person I’m terrified of how to shoot a gun. Are you crazy?”

“It's the least you can do for me. Especially after what you did.” You said, your heart pounding as you threw a dig at him.

You could see his heart dropping at your words as his eyes looked down and his hand came up to squeeze his temple. You watched him as he wavered, his hands moving to rub his face fully now and you watched as he looked over to the guys half standing on the porch and the other half looking through the kitchen window. He surprised you when he dropped to his knees, the palms of his hands gripping to the grass as he repeated a string of ‘im so sorries’ your way.

Seeing this man dressed perfectly from head to foot begging for forgiveness made you sad. You didn't know why you were sad, just seeing him like that tugged at your heart. It was your weakness. All the old memories flooded back and you found yourself kneeling down to become face to face with him.

“Just teach me how to use a gun.”

After getting his composure back you tried to lighten the mood as best you could as he pulled out the gun and handed it over to you. You could see the first initial reactions of the guys watching was to pounce, but when the gun touched your hands they did more than that.

“Stop it, this can not happen.” The oldest of the group said as he half ran across the yard to meet you guys.

“Go inside.” Was all you said, but the tone in your voice was enough to make them retreat enough so BamBam could continue.

He took his tole teaching you how to hold it, how to take the safety off and put it back on, how to load it and last, how to shoot it. It was easier that you thought it would be, and as BamBam slowly nodded and clapped his hand, his eyes not leaving the dead center of the tree you had just hit. You had impressed yourself with how accurate you were. You stood there as bambam excused himself, going back into the house just like he still lived there.

He returned with a handful of empty cans and bottles. He called for you to follow him as he reached the back of the gate and lined them up.

“If you can hit these in one go, you can hit anything.”

“Even if its moving?” You said looking over to him.

“It's easier if their moving.”

Target practice was enough to make you confident, and you were surprised at how easy things had fallen back into place with him. As if he hadn't done all those things. It was the last row, you had nailed almost every shot since he started lining them up and you were becoming confident with your ability to aim. But every time you pulled the trigger, the angrier you got at your current situation.

You had lined up again, your head tilted slightly and one eyelid dropped so you could focus on the last can when a voice behind you made you jump and soon the gun was snatched from your hands.

“Are you mental!?” Jaebum screamed, his hands knowingly putting the safety back on before he threw the gun back at BamBam’s chest. His eyes never left yours, making you feel every ounce of anger that he had in his body.

“What do you think you're doing!?” He yelled again, stepping closer to you. But there was no way you were backing down.

“If I knew all it took was me holding a gun to get you to finally acknowledge me.” You said trying to walk by him, but his arm caught you again, this time not as soft.

“What is that supposed to mean.” His jaw clenched.

“It means stop babying me and let me do something for myself for once.” You screamed.

He let you go this time, watching you as you walked away, only stopping to steal BamBam’s gun off of him. You didn't dare look behind you until you were back in your room and the door was locked. From your bed you could hear Jaebum yelling at everyone down stairs, probably trying to hide the fact that he was embarrassed you had called him out like that in front of an audience.

But once it was quiet it stayed quiet until the sound of the boys rustling around downstairs was enough to spark your interest. Your mind fought with yourself. Half of you wanted to go down stairs and stop pouting, but the other half, the half that won, told you you needed to stay put. To not let Jaebum win. And the fact that he hadn't knocked on the door once made you realize that he was trying to hold out as well.

Every once in a while you thought you heard a knock, but you didn't believe it was anything more than your imagination. Until his voice came through the door in a very soft tone.

“Y/n I've been sitting here for four hours, please let me in.”

Your heart sunk, there's no way he had been and all those knocks were real. You stood, not knowing if you should answer it but you had made enough noise slipping out of the bed that he knocked again. The time read 1:30 am when you looked at the clock buy the bed. You felt terrible. Another knock brought you out of it and you quickly closed the space between you and the door. You let another second pass and he knocked again.

You didnt think youd be relieved to see him on the other side of the door but when you opened it to see him standing with his head in the crook of his arm and his hair a mess and his shirt undone at the top you couldn't help but sink back into the room. Before you could get to far he reached out for you. You let him pull you into his chest, and the feeling of his shoulders shaking slightly made it easier for you to wrap your arms around his waist.

“Are you still mad at me?” He mumbled into your shoulder.

“Yes.”

He chuckled lightly and readjusted his grip around your waist sighing once more before tightening it enough that lifting you would be easy. You tried not to giggle as he fell with you on the bed, and when he pulled his torso off of of yours you were able to see just how sad he was.

You hit his chest playfully to make him smile, but it was just for a second before his head dipped back down. You wrapped your arms around his head, your fingers stroking his hair when a soft ‘im sorry.’ vibrated against your shoulder.

“Are you still mad at me?” he asked again lifting his head up once more so he could look at you better.

“Has anything changed?” You asked.

“Not yet.”

“Then yes.”

He bit his lip, looking at you to see if there was anything he could do and when he couldn't find the answer he bent down and kissed you.

“How about now?” You shook your head and looked up to him with big eyes.

This time he kissed you longer, but just as soft. His lips lingering on yours as he mumbled another ‘What about now?’ When you shook your head a third time he didn't take any time pressing his lips to yours harder, his body pressing yours further back onto the bed. You weren't mad anymore. You needed to feel him, especially since it had been so long since he had touched you like this.

You couldn't help the instinct to arch your back into his chest more, you knew he loved it when you did that to him. The kiss heatened, his body rocking against yours. His hand took yours and intertwined your fingers against the bed, pressing you harder into the sheets. A small smile left his lips as a airy moan left yours. He moved his kisses down your neck and across your chest You tried to wiggle your way to get over him but he held you down, both your hands pinned over your head. He kissed you harder, his body making its way between your legs and this time it was his turn to let out a soft moan.

This kiss soften until his forehead rested on yours, his eyes closed and breath light.

“You know all I want is to protect you, right?” He said, letting you push him up so you could sit face to face. You never let go oh his hand though.

“It's not your job to protect me.”

“Y/n…”

“Jaebum please. I know, you're just as important to me. But protecting me isnt your job. I know you feel like it is, especially in this circumstance but its not your job. Let me just be your girlfriend.” you said, never looking up from where his hand held onto yours.

“I just can't see you get hurt. I cant see yourself be put in danger.” You sighed and took his cheek in your hand

“I don't feel in danger. I feel annoyed, but not in danger.” You said trying your hardest to get him to look at you.

You watched him carefully, his cheeks between your hands as he nodded slowly and avoided all eye contact. You didn't know what else to do other than pull him back into your chest and wrap your arms around him tightly.

He laid like that with you for a while before he sniffled once and propped himself up. Hed looked at you before giving you a soft smile and sat up, bringing you with him.

“Lets get in bed.” He said before kissing you till you laid back again and standing you.

You couldnt help but giggle as he stood and walked to his closet. You watched him undressed, the sheets pulled up to your chin and your eyes half closed as sleep started to take over you. He walked back over to you slowly, his hand rubbing against his bare chest. He made you softly giggle again when he got on the bed by going over you instead of walking to the other side. Though it didnt take long for you to get to sleep you couldnt help but smile as he seemed to hug you even tighter and tighter as the two of you drifted off into sleep.

#got7 #got7 mafia #im jaebum #jaebum mafia

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hopeishappinessff · 7 years ago

Text

Holding Onto Hope: Chapter 3

Chris

Propping my left elbow against the arm rest of the door, I yawned and ran a hand over my face. I’d had the longest day and I was truly tempted to pull the truck to the side of the road and allow sleep to cradle me like a baby. However, I’d rather not risk the threat of having a cop mistake me for some type of criminal just for sleeping publicly in my car, so I decided to just wait until I reached my destination.

I’d had a nice long discussion with my coach yesterday right after practice and though the decision had been made long ago and I knew I wouldn’t be sticking around to deal with Trent’s annoying ass any longer, I filled coach in on his obnoxious nightly habits anyway. It was nearly a full twenty-four hours ago that I’d spoken to coach and now… now I’ve finally arrived at my new dorm and I really couldn’t have been any more eager take my ass to sleep. With one final yawn, I shut off the truck and pushed the door open, stepping foot onto a definite territory that I was more than willing to get used to. As I’d been instructed by the letter I’d received back at Syracuse, I headed up to the dorm’s main entrance and made my way to the front desk that I spotted the moment I pulled one of the double glass doors open.

“Hi, welcome to Rooker Hall. My name is Shelly, is there anything I can do for you, uh…”

“Chris,” I said, smirking politely as the girl, Shelly, grinned at me… chick must really enjoy her job, “Christopher…”

“Brown, right?” She asked, beaming even brighter than she’d been only seconds ago, which I didn’t even believe to be possible. I nodded and raised a brow skeptically… I mean, how else was I supposed to react to this girl just blurting my last name out like she knew me personally?

“I’ve heard a lot about you… from the other players and the coaches who come through here sometimes.”

Nodding slowly, I gazed off to the side and wondered when exactly would she just give me directions to my room so I could take my ass there and get out of her weird presence. Shit got a bit awkward after a few seconds of her just standing there, smiling at me… with this peculiar twinkle in her eyes. Not to say I had anything against her obvious Anglo Saxon race, but um… the staring contest she was tryna engage in just wasn’t something I was interested in.

“Can I uh… can I get directions to my room? I asked.

“Oh, your roommate should actually be down to greet you momentarily. You can just have a seat right over there if you wanna wait for him.” She said, pointing over at the lounge area… that happened to be at the perfect angle from where she sat behind the front desk. I did not want to risk sitting there while she stared at me, creepily, so I let her know that she could just send ole dude out to my truck just outside the front door.

I sat out in my truck for only about five minutes before glancing up from my phone and spotting a slim guy about the same height as me heading in my direction. He threw a hand up at me and I decided then to go ahead and exit the truck so I could address the nigga.

“Chris, right?” He asked, stepping off the curb and stopping a few feet away from me.

“Yeah man. You my roommate?” He nodded and smiled then stuck a hand out for me to shake.

“Yep, I’m Benny. I’ve heard a lot about you man… we all have. You came from Syracuse right?”

I smirked and lowered my gaze to the ground, wondering how these people just seemed to magically know all about me “Yeah, I was out there for a three-month training camp.”

“Cool, cool… I guess that means we really will have the number one team in the nation this year… got dudes coming all the way from Syracuse to play for the Bulldogs.”

We both chuckled and I dapped him, shaking my head at his humor… I could already tell this nigga was about to be a hell of a lot better than Trent’s whack ass.

Hope

Destani and I had only been at the school for about a week now and I guess it was safe to say I’d gained a greater level of comfort with the campus itself… it was just the people that crowded the campus that were becoming a huge hindrance for me. I’d found myself becoming greatly acquainted with the four walls of our dorm room. Everything on the outside of this space just seemed to be such a temptation for me and Lord knows I couldn’t afford to risk allowing my eyes to roam for even an instant. I’d even started to feel an ounce of regret for coming to the school in the first place… if I wasn’t mistaken, nearly every guy I’d laid eyes on thus far was way too easy on the eyes.

As for Destani and Taylor, they’d talked practically every day since the first day they met. He ended up making his way back to our room the same day we met after having her call him up to let him know that she was indeed holding up her half of their deal to tour the campus. I was more than relieved when he knocked on our door, in his lonesome… without Benny. Being anywhere close to that boy and his intensely captivating eyes was entirely too much of a temptation that I just couldn’t risk dealing with. Any guy who could leave a female speechless with only one look screamed trouble to me and for that I would definitely keep my distance from him… as much as humanly possible.

I hadn’t spoken to Chris in a few days and though I’d been worrying my head off, I decided not to do the most and blow his phone up like some type of stalker. I didn’t want to become that crazed and annoying girlfriend who had to know precisely where her boyfriend was at all times. I figured with the amount of time that Chris and I spent on the phone throughout the day, it was probably a good idea to give each other a bit of space. But if I didn’t hear from him some time soon, I knew I would be the first to crack and call him… he had no idea, but I’d become pretty dependent on hearing his voice at least once a day.

To make matters worse for me, Taylor had apparently told Destani about some type of gathering later tonight, specifically put together to welcome the new undergraduates to the campus and give us an opportunity to meet a few of our fellow freshman class. My initial response when asked if I wanted to go to the event was a distinct no… if I didn’t want to jeopardize exiting this room just to go outside for fresh air, what would make Destani think I would want to go to some party? She refused to hear it, of course, and before I had time to fully register her antics, I found myself slipping into a pair of ripped dark denim jeans, a white quarter length sleeve crop top, and a pair of black and white converse. I’d recently spent almost an entire day straightening my curly tresses, so I wore it in a middle part and bone straight with it falling down nearly to the top of my butt.

The amount of people crowded into the Tate Student Center was much more than I was willing to handle… there were bodies covering every inch of wall space in the building. From the parking lot to the front atrium, tons of people loitered the pavement, mingling and dancing to the bass of the music blasting through the speaks that lined not only the inside of the building, but the outside as well. I couldn’t help but feel a slight rush from the scene… it was all very new to me and as much as I grumbled just hours ago back in our room, I had to say I was quite content with my decision to come out tonight.

“Well, this is it Sy,” Destani said, snapping me from my thoughts and seizing my attention, “We have arrived at this nigga convention and I expect to walk outta here with two of these beautiful motherfuckers… both for me of course.” She tossed me a slutty little wink and I rolled my eyes and scoffed at her words. She was a complete fool if she actually thought we would be leaving this party tonight and going back to our dorm with some random guys she picked up. I walked alongside her, watching as she warily smoothed her freshly manicured hands down the front of her snug fitting t-shirt dress and rubbed her lips together, making sure her sugar maple lipgloss was evenly distributed over her lips.

“Dez, you’re fine.” I assured her, suddenly becoming all too annoyed with her over scrutiny of herself.

“Oh, this I know young grasshopper… this I know.” I shook my head and snickered at her… I could see that evidently if I was gonna stick with her throughout the entire party, I was gonna have the longest night. As we neared the building, I could see a beaming Taylor approaching us unexpectedly.

“Well look at you two… walking up in this bitch, stealing the show ‘n shit.” He licked his lips and reversed his stare from Destani’s legs, to my own then lastly up to my face “What’s good Sy’Diyah?”

I threw a tight-lipped smile his way and shook my head, mumbling a small “Nothing much” before turning my attention elsewhere.

“Yo, I’m glad ya’ll came through though. Ya’ll can dance, right?” He asked, rubbing his hands together and eyeing us both closely as we marched toward the front entrance.

Destani halted in her tracks, raising a questioning brow at him “Does it look like we can dance?”

Taylor chuckled, lifting his hands to yield to her question “Hey, I was just asking.”

“And I was just telling, boo.” She replied, whipping back around to continue her hip switching strut through one of the open doors. With one last roll of my eyes, I crossed my arms over my chest and stepped in behind her, followed by Taylor, who I could only hope kept his gaze from wandering.

The wall became a safe haven for me and the small amount of floor space about three steps in front of me became center stage for Destani’s dancing body. She made it a point to hold eye contact with Taylor, who’d gone over to stand near who I guessed to be a few of his friends to wait for Benny’s arrival. I could see that he was smirking lustfully at her, nibbling into his bottom lip as he bobbed his head to the beat of the music. He tore his attention away from Destani for only about a second to look over at the open glass doors adjacent to us. I too turned my head to face the door, curious to know what’d abruptly caught his attention. My traveling orbs landed on a head of curly hair followed by a caramel colored face, a set of glimmering dark brown eyes, and a pair of plump smiling lips.

I told myself that I would never set eyes on this boy again, yet there I stood… gawking at him like a young groupie to a celebrity. I eyed him closely as he walked past clusters of people, smiling at some and stopping for mere seconds to dap a few. My visual excursion didn’t end there though… I noticed that the noise level increased almost immediately and if I heard correctly, the females surrounding Benny were primarily accountable for the commotion. Several of them squealed excitedly by his presence… or perhaps by the additional body that floated smoothly right behind him. I couldn’t get a clear view of the face, but his height, complexion, and entire swagger seemed oddly familiar to me.

“Damn, who is that? Stepping through here like the fucking president or something.” Destani exclaimed, stepping back to stand beside me. She gripped onto my wrist and rolled onto the tips of her toes, lifting her gaze as high as she could over the crowd to get a clear visual of the unknown figure walking with Benny.

“I can’t even see who the hell it is. All these bitches flocking to the nigga… can’t see shit!” She fussed as she let go of my wrist and flattened her red converse down on the floor. Because I had no clue who this person was and I apparently wasn’t going to be looking them in the face any time soon, I turned my head in the opposite direction, quickly losing interest in what every other girl in the room seemed to be freaking out over.

Minutes passed before several of the people, or females shall I say, returned to their normal routines of dancing. I scanned the crowd once, suddenly regretting even agreeing to waste my time and energy coming here. With a sigh, I turned to face Destani, parting my lips to tell her I’d made up my mind that I wanted to leave with or without her. I found myself looking at Taylor instead and I sighed once more, just as Benny made his appearance right behind him. I smiled cordially at him when I caught his gaze, acknowledging the fact that I had indeed noticed him standing there and I hoped that he wouldn’t make it a point to approach me… like he unfortunately was now.

“’Sup Sy’Diyah?” He asked, catching me off guard with his abrupt proximity.

“Oh, um… nothing.” I mumbled fretfully… his fragrance was more intoxicating than I anticipated and it was becoming entirely too difficult for me to focus on anything other than those hypnotizing brown eyes.

He smirked and glanced over at Destani, offering her a friendly salutation “What’s going on Destani?”

“Nothing much.” She furrowed her brows and twisted her lips to one side, staring off past Benny with a curious expression “Hey Benny, lemme ask you something.”

“What’s up?” He asked as he stepped closer to her to hear her over the blaring music.

“Who was that guy you walked in here with?” He grinned like a proud father as he quickly glanced back at the anonymous guy now standing a few feet away from us with his back turned in our direction, dapping up and greeting a few random guys “Oh, that’s my roommate. He just got in earlier this afternoon.”

He turned promptly to face his new roommate, yelling a few incoherent words to get his attention. I stared at the back of the roommate’s head as he turned to acknowledge Benny and nearly choked on my next breath, reaching desperately for Destani’s arm and gripping it tight because surely I had to be seeing a ghost…

Chris

My stare settled on her rather than Benny, who stood there looking from her to me and back again. She looked… so… fucking… sexy just standing there, staring back at me with one hand gripping Destani’s arm and the other pressed against the wall behind her. I smirked at the expression on her face… it really looked like she’d just seen a ghost. The thought of my presence rendering her speechless had me feeling like I was on top of the world and I couldn’t help but feel even more thankful for the fact that I’d approached her with her back pressed against a wall rather than some nigga.

“Sy’Diyah, this is my roommate Chris. Chris, this is… a new friend of mine Sy’Diyah.” I cut my eyes at Benny and I had to stop myself from blurting out a ‘what the fuck’ after his weak ass introduction to my damn girlfriend. The whole ‘new friend of mine’ bullshit was what threw me off and I knew that would be means for a nice lil conversation with Hope later. But for now, my main goal was to snap her out of her daze and get my hands around her tiny little waist for the first time in months.

“Chris,” Quickly shifting my gaze to the right, I instantly caught the green-eyed gaze of a bewildered Destani, who I thought was gonna hit me by the look on her face “Nigga, what the fuck are you doing here?”

I smirked and licked my lips from habit, chuckling as I listened to her loud ass speaking clearly over the bass of the music “What it look like Dez? I drove all the damn way from Syracuse to come chill at this party.”

She raised a hand and swiftly stuck her middle finger up at me, rolling her eyes as she swung her head followed by a mass of curls to face some dark-skinned nigga standing beside her.

“Oh, ya’ll already know each other?” Benny asked, obviously oblivious to my relation to both Hope and Destani.

“Yeah man, she’s like one of my best friends since childhood,” I explained, pointing a finger over at Dez “And this… this is my girl.”

His head snapped back with surprise, but he quickly composed himself and smiled awkwardly “Oh… damn man. I ain’t know… I’m sorry.” “Nah,” I slipped into place at Hope’s side and curled one hand eagerly around her waist, “It’s cool man. You straight.”

He gave a quick nod and stepped back away from us before finally turning and straying off into the crowd, but not before staring at Hope for a few seconds too long.

I watched him closely as he walked off, wondering what his deal was because something was definitely off with the way he looked at her. Ignoring my thoughts, I lowered my gaze to the stunning beauty on my arm, only to find her already peering up at me with her mouth hanging open and her eyes unblinking. I smirked at her, leaning down to close the space between my face and hers by placing my lips beside her ear so I could finally speak to her.

“What’s wrong?” Standing back up at a slouched height, I eyed her as she finally pressed her lips together and blinked a few times. She still wasn’t speaking and though I was fully enjoying watching her stand there in all her radiating beauty, I was ready to hear that voice that’d been keeping me focused and sane for nearly four months.

“Why you acting so scared to speak love? I’m not gone bite.” I joked, discreetly running the tips of my fingers up along her exposed side. I could feel her body shudder beneath my touch and I smirked, loving the way she leaned closer to me to stable herself. She raised her gaze to meet mine, tilting her head completely to accommodate my height.

“I… I just… I’m…” She stuttered.

“Surprised?” I said, sensing how overwhelmed she was. She nodded and swallowed down her anxiety and lowered her stare down to my feet, slowly raised it to my face once more. It was clear she was still trying to accept the fact that I was indeed standing here and I wouldn’t rush her from that… hell, I’d be just as surprised if roles were reversed and she popped up on me at my school.

“Wha… what are you doing here?” She finally managed to mumble her first question after staring at me for what felt like forever. Biting down on my bottom lip with a smirk, I leaned in close to her ear and slid both hands around her waist to pull her closer to me.

“Syracuse was just a camp.” I could feel her gasp against the skin of my neck and I moved back a bit to catch her ‘I just saw a ghost… again’ expression.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked, clenching onto the front of my shirt as she balanced herself on the tips of her toes.

“I wanted to surprise you.” I leaned in closer and nuzzled my face in the crook of her neck, savoring her delectable scent.

In all actuality, UGA had been the very first school I’d been accepted to and I’d mapped out my plan long before she or anyone else knew. Though I only chose to attend Syracuse’s summer camp, I decided to tell Hope that I’d actually be enrolling in the school to really seal the deal of surprising her. During the graduation ceremony back in May, I’d even excluded The University of Georgia from the list of schools I’d been accepted to, so for that I knew she could never assume I’d be making my way right behind her to Georgia.

With my hands still tightly gripping her waist, I grinned and flicked my tongue out over my lips when I felt her hands sliding up my chest, stopping and linking together at the back of my neck. She pulled me as close to her as her chest would allow and buried her face in the crook of my neck, pressing her lips against my flesh before leaning up until her lips were near my ear.

“God, I missed you so much Chris.” She whispered. Moving my hands down to her lower back, I slid them back up and discreetly made sure to maneuver them beneath the material of her crop top. If my hands weren’t deceiving me, I’d say she’d gotten a hell of a lot thicker in just a matter of months. Easing my hands down a bit further, I didn’t even bother to bite back a groan as I buried my face in her tropical scented hair while I groped her ass… either I was just losing my mind from months of sex deprivation or she was seriously fucking thick.

“I missed you too baby.” I mumbled, turning and stepping back until I felt the solid wall against my back. The bass of the music vibrated through my chest and I kept my hands glued to her waist, rocking her hips subtly from side to side. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and gazed up at me, catching the beat on her own and reached down to place her hands on the top of mine. She pried them off her waist and turned around, meshing her plump little ass against my crotch. My hands were planted on her waist again in seconds and I looked down at her, enjoying the view of her ass grinding side to side against me.

The entire moment was so surreal for me. I mean, there I was just leaning against the wall of a party in a school no one had a clue I would be attending, with the love of my life slow grinding against my growing erection to the tune of Jeremih’s 5 Senses. It didn’t even feel like I’d just driven all those miles from Syracuse. And just days ago, I was completely aggravated because I had to deal with a dumbass for a roommate and I’d been battling the strongest craving for what I quickly noted to be my new addiction… my face was buried in the crook of her neck and I reveled in the mouthwatering scent of whatever body spray or perfume she’d doused herself with. With a smirk, I twisted my tongue out and toyed with the ball in my mouth for a while, grunting and groaning incessantly as she pressed harder against me and ignored the few spectators we’d gained in a matter of minutes.

I couldn’t resist the urge to latch my hands into her hair as I stared down at the new style I’d failed to notice. She’d taken the time to straighten those platinum and honey blonde tresses and the tips of her hair rested… right above the crack of her ass. When the fuck did it get that long? With a low hiss and eyes weary and glazed with lust, I ran a hand up the length of her hair and pulled it back, watching as her head fell back against my shoulder.

“Baby,” leaning forward to press my lips against the side of her jaw, I kept my grip firm on those tresses and eyed her as her eyes squinted and finally shut, “Where are the restrooms?”

Hope

The feeling of him thrusting into me leisurely yet forcefully was almost too much to bear. The pain had since subsided and he was now on his way to replacing the ache of not feeling him in months with pure pleasure. I unsuccessfully bit back a squeal and attempted to ease back from him when I felt an unwelcome jolt against a spot that I’d nearly forgotten all about.

“Where you going baby?” He asked, gripping onto my thighs as he pulled me back to the edge of the countertop. He’d asked about the location of the restrooms in the middle of our slow dance and surprisingly, I was able to get us here quick enough to avoid him stripping me of my clothes in the middle of the dance floor. The choice was clear to him the moment we stepped around the corner leading to the hall with the restrooms in our lust infused frenzy… the ladies room would have to do for our rendezvous, seeing as it was the closet to us when we rounded that corner.

From where I sat propped against the extended countertop, I could see that these past few months had been good to him… better than I could have ever imagined. Before he left Virginia for Syracuse, he had an average physique for a high school basketball player… he was lean and muscular in all the necessary areas. But now, after months of waking up in the wee hours of the morning and running drills for hours every day… now he was burlier than I’d ever seen him. His arms projected from his shirt with a perspired sheen, accenting the ink embellishments and the muscles that seemed to have developed overnight. His abdomen was a replica of a washboard and I felt almost intimidated as I watched those muscles retract and constrict with every powerful thrust he delivered.

Biting down into my bottom lip, I tossed my head back and moaned as I brought my gaze up to meet his golden eyes. I couldn’t resist the urge to smirk as I adored the sight of his now deep butterscotch complexion and the luscious curls projecting with perfection from his head. His physical transformation had my body leaking like a broken faucet and coating his shaft as he continued to pummel in and out of me. He leaned down unexpectedly, trapping me between his body and the mirror behind me. His hands were flat against the glass, his forehead pressed against mine and his lower half was steady rocking back and forth, sending continuous bursts of undeniable pleasure through my womb.

“You been keeping this pussy tight and wet for me baby?” He huffed.

“Yeah.” I muttered, clenching my eyes shut.

“This shit is so fucking tight girl. You know how I like my pussy, don’t you?” Moaning out for him like a crazy person, I used the back of my neck and head to push myself forward to capture his lips with my own. Suckling his bottom lip into my mouth like a pacifier, I slithered the tip of my tongue over it, enjoying the sweet flavor of cherry lip balm. I could feel one of his hands toying at the tips of my hair and half a second later, he yanked my head back and eased his tongue, and the new little ball pierced through it, from the base of my neck up to my chin… all the while keeping himself balanced with one hand against the mirror.

With a sudden boost of confidence, I brought my hands up and pressed them flat against his chest, pushing him back away from me. He continued to thrust strategically, eyeing me with a teasing smirk as I moved up away from the mirrored wall and leaned close to him. My forehead was pressed against his and I arched my back, enjoying the friction his shirt created against my naked chest. I slid one hand up along the back of his neck and into the curls atop his head then used the other hand to brace myself on the countertop, gripping the edge of it so I wouldn’t slip thanks to the puddle beneath my thighs. With my legs now wrapped securely around his waist, I started up a slow grind on him and smiled once he caught onto my rhythm.

“Damn baby,” He grunted, glancing down past his incredibly toned and perfectly sculpted abdomen, “You see that shit? You making a mess girl.”

Dropping my gaze from his honey tainted eyes, I stared down past the connection his body made with mine and carefully watched as my excitement dripped all over the glossy counter, making a complete mess just as he’d said. I kept my hand glued to the top of his head, gently tugging at the curls there before sliding my hand down to the side of his face. My body shivered at the sensation of his fingertips gliding down the center of my back, stopping just above my butt. He pressed his lips against mine at that exact moment and slipped his tongue deep into my mouth, swiftly pressing both of his hands into my back. I gasped into his mouth, enduring the discomfort of his entire length filling me to the brim.

I didn’t know if it was because I hadn’t felt him in such a way in so long, but he felt much larger than what I was used to… the thing was literally like a child’s leg! Not like it wasn’t a healthy size before, but now… now it felt like he was simply ripping me apart. As I continued to focus on his enormity, he slid me completely off the counter and bounced me up and down offering me as many inches of himself that my body would allow.

“Oh God Chris… unnnnnnh!” I groaned, tossing my head back and leaning back to catch the edge of the counter before I slipped right out of his grasp. He gripped my waist loosely in his large hands as he dug in and out of me and I nearly lost all my senses the moment I felt him rotate his hips into figures eights.

I’d gotten so wrapped up in the whirlwind of passion we’d created in the five-stall space, I failed to realize we were indeed selfishly holding up the restroom as though there was no one else who’d need to use it. Chris had locked the door as soon as we set foot in the space, blocking any unnecessary spectators from walking in on our personal porn scene. We’d been locked away in this bathroom for nearly half an hour and I hadn’t thought twice about listening to anyone or anything other than Chris, but now it wasn’t hard to tell that there was a line forming just outside the locked door.

“Ba…by, the do… doooor.” I attempted to say as I rolled my head to one side and stared up at him. He kept his head low, focusing merely on the disappearing act his shaft performed.

“Fuck that,” He grunted huskily, glancing briefly into my eyes, “They can wait.”

My concern for anyone standing outside the door faded into thin air almost instantly and I found myself using the edge of the counter to balance myself as I met his thrusts halfway focusing on bringing us both to a much needed and well-deserved climax.

In the following minutes he gave me his all, thrusting into me with so much force and power I was sure my pelvic bone would snap at any second.

“Give me my nut girl,” He growled, leaning down and flattening both palms suddenly against the glossy counter, “Fuck this dick good and make it cum baby.”

Those words and that tone were all I needed to push me right over the edge… my head flew back, sending my hair flying about wildly and with a throaty moan, an intense series of convulsions washed over me and I instinctively pulled my legs back from his waist. He caught them before I could fully move away from him and plowed back into me mid-squirt.

I’d squirted all over his midsection, screaming and squealing like a mad woman because I didn’t know how else to convey just how wonderfully powerful this orgasm felt. Chris had already yanked me back to him and picked up his pace, completely ignoring my screams of insanity.

“Why you running? I ain’t tell you to go anywhere.” He fussed breathlessly.

“Chri… I can’t… bre…” My own breath was beginning to come out in short gusts and I just knew at any second I was sure to pass out.

“Make me cum and I’ll let you fucking breathe. Gimme that shit… what you holding it for?” He grunted, reaching down between my thighs to use his thumb to knead my clit. I reached up for my own hair and tugged at it desperately, nearly losing my mind and seeing stars as I reached my peak all over again… this time convulsing with so much strength that I pulled Chris into a whirlwind orgasm right along with me.

He cursed hysterically and with one final thrust, he gripped onto my hips and burrowed his fingertips into my skin, pulling his softening erection out and leaning down to press his lips against my perspired forehead “Fuck Hope, I really fucking missed your ass… and your pussy.”

With a huff and a giggle, I licked my parched lips and gripped onto his shoulders to pull myself into an upright position. The commotion outside the door grew to a level that neither of us could continue to ignore and I sighed and pushed Chris back from me, sliding down to my feet and leaning against him to keep my balance after my legs nearly gave out.

“Why the fuck can’t they wait a damn minute?” He fussed. I rested my head against his chest and peered up at him, giving him a warning glare to let him know he needed to calm down. He took heed to my firm stare and after a few minutes of helping me pull my clothes back on, he boldly headed for the door and unlocked it, pulling it open to reveal himself to the livid turned adoring eyes of the feisty females barricading the outside of the door.

#chrisbrown #chrisbrownff #chrisbrownfanfic #jasminesanders #chrisbrownfanfiction #jasminesandersff #teambreezy #teambreezyff #fanfiction #fanfic

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parkjmini · 7 years ago

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fam(ily) - five | pkjm

parent!au: park jimin A single father of twins show you the true meaning of family and what it takes to love like a parent, even if they aren’t your own. word count: 5,972 genre: fluff//angst warnings: explicit language

[A/N]: Sorry it took so long to updated. I started school recently and im taking several AP classes so its hard for me to write often. im so thankful for everyone reading this series, and how much attention it has gotten every since the first chapter, i hope everyone still sticks around for the end (: i also apologize for any typos bc i haven’t proofread

Jimin was texting you nonstop, asking if you’ve spotted them. The baby blue was switched out with a dark, navy. Tiny specks dotted the night drop. Minseo was yelling her sister’s name with all her breath. Your throat was raw from screaming for them.

A strange feeling overcame you. A rush of fear and anxiety mixed together and washed over your entire system. Tears were welling, blurring your vision. There were just too much bushes, too many plants. Nothing resembled two small children.

Losing them felt like something was robbed from you. You had no where to look and everywhere you did look, there was nothing, only dark blue skies and rows of leaves. Minseo heard your whimpers and wrapped her arms around your neck.

“Ms.(Y/N), I’m sorry for making you cry.” Her tiny voice filled your left ear. You patted her back and shook her head. Children were so pure. They weren’t exposed to anything that would deem harmful to them. They weren’t ruined by the scary world.

“Monkey, are you cold?” You managed to sniff, your throat aching.

“No, because you keep me warm.” She smiled. Even in the worst types of situations, she was able to make you smile.

they’re not in the trees, or the center, or the field. (Y/N), how could this have happened?

we can’t start blaming ourselves right now, Jimin. Come to the garden, i need you.

Your jumbled mind refused to let you think straight. The feeling was so foreign, nothing like you’ve ever felt. It surpassed the anxiousness of losing your keys or your phone. You lost something that meant practically everything to you.

You loved the twins with all your heart. They weren’t hard to love. Minseo and Minjoo were the two kindest souls you’ve ever met. They had beautiful smiles that had your knees weak. They rarely fought and they treated you with such respect and pampered you with wholesome love.

Besides Jimin, they were your happiness. They needed to be protected and you wanted to be the one to do that for them. They deserved to be happy and you promised yourself that you’d never let their smiles fade. It was a small oath you made to yourself over the course of the months. You were there for them when they needed you.

Traveling deeper into the garden, you heard wailing. Minseo’s head popped up and she pointed to where it was coming from. You ran, with every ounce of energy you had left. Screaming for them, you heard the sobs get louder.

Using your free arm, you pushed back bushes and removed pots of flowers. Minjoo and Jihoon were cuddled up next to one another with streams of waterfalls falling from their shut eyes.

“Oh Monkey..” You cooed and set Minseo down. She hurried to pick up her sister, who was covered in dirt. You helped Jihoon up from the ground and dusted him off.

There was a part of you that wanted to scold them for running off on their own, but their crying states reassured you that they had learned their lesson. You were just relived and overjoyed that you found them again. They were safe.

You brought them close to your chest and let them destroy your pastel dress. Hearing them cry made your heart hurt. Small tears stained your face and you rubbed their shaking backs.

Minseo lead the way and held onto Jihoon’s hand. He had stopped sobbing after they were found again. However, Minjoo would not stop bawling her eyes out. She felt horrible, knowing that she caused such trouble. She was also grateful that you were her hero and saved her from the scary garden.

Jimin was sprinting from the path and immediately hugged you, with Minjoo still in your arms. He kissed the top of her head repeatedly, brushing the dirt that was caught in her strands. You handed her over to the distressed father and he closed his eyes to embraced her.

“Daddy!” Minjoo cried louder.

He was squeezing her tightly, making sure she was actually existent. “I love you so much, JooJoo. Don’t ever scare me like that again.” He whispered into her ear and she clung onto his shirt.

“I’m sorry. Jihoon and I were playing hide and seek and we didn’t know how big the garden was. We got lost. I was afraid that you’d never be able to find me again.” She mumbled, hiccuping between every sentence.

“It’s okay, my pumpkin. All that matters now is that you’re safe.” His eyes opened to see your worry expression dissipate. You shied away from his gaze and wiped the last tears that fell.

“Daddy, you’re so strong. You were the only one who didn’t cry.” Minseo noted and Jimin remained staring at you.

He took your hand and ran his thumbs against your knuckles. “Ms.(Y/N) cried too?” Minjoo turned around in his arms to look at you.

“A little bit. We were worried about you two, JooJoo!” Minseo jumped, her small body talking for her.

“I’m sorry, Ms.(Y/N), for making you cry.” The two children apologized and an ashamed frown appeared on their faces.

“It’s okay.” There was nothing more you could say. You were calm now and it didn’t make sense as why you reacted the way you did.

“She must’ve been more worried and spooked than I was.” Jimin commented. “Thank you and I’m sorry about your dress… and this entire date.”

You dusted off any excess dirt, “don’t even sweat it, Jimin. I’m only thrilled that they’re safe now. Nothing can top that feeling of relief.”

“Spoken like a true parent.” He smiled and you laughed it off. You weren’t entirely sure what he meant by that. “Let’s go home. It’s been a long day.” He sighed and Minseo grabbed your hand. She hurried you over to the vehicle, not wanting you to stay out any longer in the chilly night.

“Since when were you two dating?” Jungkook interrogated Jimin in the lounge room. He was brewing another batch of coffee and Jimin was enjoying his lunch on the couch.

Jimin rose a brow, “we aren’t dating, at least not officially.”

“Are you still in high school? Does it really matter if things are official, she’s someone you’re seeing.” Jungkook mixed his creamer with the dark, black liquid.

Jimin wondered what to exactly call you. You two see each other on multiple occasions and went out with one another. Nonetheless, he’s never explicitly asked you to be his. You both knew you had feelings for one another, and wanted to keep seeing each other. Fear was honestly the only hesitation Jimin was facing.

He was afraid of becoming too serious and if you weren’t comfortable with that. You were still young and he shouldn’t restrict you to a family. He remembered how his life changed drastically when the twins were born. He was no longer a free-spirited kid who partied every night. He had to look for a stable job to pay for the girls’ diapers and finish school as fast as possible.

Jimin was up juggling studying for his midterms and making sure the twins were fed. He knew the stress and burden it could cause. You were in school and living out your early twenties. He didn’t want to rob that from you. He knew you would think it would be fine, but he experienced it. Even though he wouldn’t give up the twins for anything in the world, he still missed the small things. He didn’t want you to miss those things.

“Yeah, but it’s complicated.” Jimin made room for Jungkook to join him.

“Is it only complicated because of the twins? How do they like her?”

His face gleamed at the chance to talk about you and his girls. That was one of his favorite topics. “They love her. Sometimes more than me. She takes really good care of them. She means a lot to them, I can tell. It’s like they’re attached.“

“Okay, so what’s the complication?” Jungkook didn’t understand why Jimin was being so hesitant. It wasn’t a secret that Jimin was head over heels for you, any fool could tell.

“She’s young. I don’t want to take those years away from her. She should be traveling, hooking up with guys from college, going to raves. I don’t know — living her life! Not being stuck in a serious relationship with a dad of twins.” He sighed and Jungkook saw the sadness reeking from Jimin’s clothes.

“Not everyone was like us in college. It’s not like she was doing any of that prior to meeting you, all she does is work. Also, you never asked if she’s okay with it.” Jimin ran his hand through his hair and loosened his tie.

“I know she’ll say she’s fine with it because that’s the kind of person she is. The sweetest soul I know. Did I tell you we lost JooJoo a couple of weeks ago when we took them out with us?”

“Jimin, you lost your kid?!” Taehyung walked through and planted himself on the opposite cushion.

“She was playing hide and seek with her friend and disappeared into that garden by that one park.” He explained, watching Taehyung steal some of his food.

“She was more worried than I was, crying her eyes out over my missing daughter. She looked beautiful that day too, she had this dress on and the kids ruined it with dirt from the garden. You know what she said?”

“That it was fine, as long as they were safe?” Jungkook responded.

Jimin nodded, “exactly. So how can I tell her what I want knowing that she’d put me before herself?”

“That sounds complicated.” Taehyung inputted.

“See. It’s complicated. I just enjoy her company and I don’t want to rush to label us as official. That makes things serious and as much as I want that, I wouldn’t do that to her.” Jimin snatched his lunch from Taehyung’s hungry grip.

“I’m only saying you might as well be. You more than enjoy her company. You’re madly in love with her.” Jungkook teased.

“I’ll admit I like her, a lot. Love is pushing it. She means so much to me and I feel like it’s because she entered my life so unexpectedly.”

“I know. I remember when you told us that she’s actually the teacher assistant to the twins’ teacher, I was so confused, mainly because I knew her from the club. It’s almost like fate.” Taehyung got up to search the cabinets for office snacks.

Jungkook said, “how long have you’ve known her? It feels like forever.”

“We met five months ago. I’ve been seeing her for the past three months. It’s been a while. It was a long time of daily morning drop off talks, where we’d get so shy trying to keep up a conversation. I thought about her so much to the point where I started seeing her in my dreams too.” Jimin could go on and on about you. He didn’t get embarrassed because he wasn’t ashamed of what he felt. He was a grown man who finally fell for someone after trapping his feelings for several long years.

“I haven’t seen you like this since the twins were born.” Taehyung munched on chips and leaned over the lounge counter. Jungkook nodded, agreeing with him.

“I haven’t felt like this since the twins were born. The last girl I genuinely liked was six years ago.“

“She’s the one, isn’t she?” Jungkook asked and Taehyung stared at Jimin for his answers.

Jimin pondered, wondering if you were his one. He thought about you and how you never failed to make him happy. You had an ability to keep him calm. He never told you, but he didn’t freak out as much as he thought he would when he lost Minjoo. It was because of you. Just being there kept him sane.

It must’ve been a while before Jimin finally answered, “she’s the one.”

“There is actually a big reason as to why we called you all out here for dinner tonight.” Jen announced to everyone sitting at the big dinner table. You had accompanied Jimin to Jen’s dinner. Apparently, she had begged Jimin to bring you along and you couldn’t say no to him.

You sat next to him and twins were at his other side. They tossed around their seat and played with the restaurant’s fancy table cloth. You thought it was going to be a simple dinner, but when you arrived, you saw about ten other people.

Jimin said it was a lot of Jen’s and her boyfriend’s close friends. Everyone seemed to know Minseo and Minjoo. They were both very well mannered and greeted everyone that approached them. Jimin knew a majority of their friends, while you confusingly clung to his side.

He introduced you by your name, never specifying what you were to him. Everyone kept asking if you were his girlfriend, and Jimin only shrugged. It wasn’t a direct answer.

“We’re getting married.” Jen and her boyfriend said in unison. They showed their identical rings and the white smiles glittered under the dim restaurant lights.

“No way! Congratulations you two!” Everyone cheered and started raising their champagne glasses: a toast for the couple’s engagement.

“I knew something was fishy.” Jimin commented and the girls excitedly ran up to hug her. “Congratulations Jen.”

“Actually Jimin, can I speak to you for a moment?” Jen’s eyes darted suspiciously around the table. Jimin nodded and followed her outside.

Once Jimin was gone, everyone started to interrogate you.

“How long have you two been together?”

“Have do you feel about him having kids?”

“What do you do for a living?”

“How old are you?”

“Are you his girlfriend?”

You weren’t sure how to answer any of them. Jimin had never discussed anything about labels. You two went on dates and liked each other a lot, however he never made things official. You weren’t waiting for him to ask, you would do it in a heartbeat to make things clear. You weren’t sure if he wanted that.

Jimin had become an adult at a young age. He was very mature and had a family to take care of. You didn’t know if you were more than just pass time to him. He meant the world to you and your first priority was to never hurt him. He treated you well, but there was still that stigma of meeting men from the club.

Of course, you didn’t expect to see him after that night. Nonetheless, you didn’t know if he wanted you. You were okay with being a simple friend or someone to keep him company, it was anything to keep him happy. He deserved to be happy.

Just when you were about to clarify that you were friends, Minseo beat you to it. "She’s our Daddy’s favorite person in the world.”

“Oh really?” People were chatting among themselves.

“No Monkey. You and your sister are his most favorite in the world. Not me.” Your palms turned warm and slick with sweat. You weren’t necessarily trying to deny your feelings for him, you merely grew shy.

“Daddy likes you a lot, even more than me and sissy.” Minjoo commented, adding more fuel to everyone’s gossip. Even if you weren’t sure if it was true, it still made your heart run and leap all over. It was still hard to believe Jimin liked you, in any way.

You two weren’t the same age and worked two completely separate jobs. He lived a different life from yours. You felt a little under experienced for him, like you should be putting in more effort than you were now. You weren’t good at relationships, and often blamed yourself for many of their endings.

You shook your head at the girls’ silly comments and sipped the expensive bubbly liquid. "You’re shy, it’s normal. You don’t have to answer any of our ridiculous questions. We were just surprised to finally see Jimin with someone. It was always him and the twins.”

You’ve thought about Jimin’s past relationships and grew curious as to the different women in his life. He didn’t speak of it. Ever. Maybe it was because his late wife meant that much to him. He was a loyal man, and it was probably extremely hard for him to cope with meeting someone new.

“Yeah, after Stacey died and the twins entered his life, I’ve never seen him with a girlfriend.” Another person added.

“Bless his heart, honestly, for taking care of them and Jen because he really didn’t have to.”

“I mean Stacey was one of his best friends, he felt responsible.” Everyone was talking among themselves now about Jimin. You sat there, silently, and absorbing all the newfound information about him. It was strange. Jimin didn’t go into depth about his life or his past. He seemed closed off or lived in the now.

There was always an elephant in the room — the twins. The curiosity about their whereabouts or their past intrigued you. Jimin never mentioned his wife, assuming her name was Stacey, or how things ended up the way it did. You didn’t want to be rude and ask him a bunch of uncomfortable questions, but the questions remained. How did things end up like it did?

“He hasn’t been with someone for what? Six years? You’re the first in a while.” Someone nodded towards you.

“Jimin use to be wild. He’d have girls left and right at him. He was that older upperclassmen that everyone wanted to be friends with or sleep with. Jimin was so different than how he is now. He’s always been sweet and kindhearted, but he’s matured a lot. I remember when the entire campus knew he had twins, everyone freaked out. He stopped all that crazy drinking and partying. He didn’t hook up with random girls anymore. He studied and got out of college to get a job immediately.” That was shocking to you.

Jimin was no doubt attractive and well-built, but you didn’t expect him to be the type of college boy you’d see at the club on a Friday night. The piercing images of fraternities or kids getting turned up at your work scarred you. They were all annoying and ignorant, so you couldn’t imagine Jimin like that. He was put together when you met him, he merely looked like someone who had a bad day at work. The idea of him constantly hooking up with girls made you slightly insecure.

You were in college, but you didn’t participate in that type of lifestyle. College was about having fun for the last four years before you become an adult. You were envious from time to time seeing everyone your age having a great time while you mixed their drinks. You weren’t outstandingly pretty or made yourself seem that way. Yours and Jimin’s life seem to be even more different than before.

Then the real question stood: does he even want to be in a relationship with you?

Jimin came back after a while, his face long and weary. Jen looked off putting as well. Whatever it was it was bad news. Jimin tried to be uplifting, but you could tell it was hard.

He felt your concerning eyes watching him and he held your thigh underneath the table. He whispered, "I’ll tell you later.”

You nodded, feeling guilty that you begged him with your stare. “You don’t have to.”

He turned to smile at you, weakly. “I want to. It somewhat involves you.” A million possibilities filled your mind. You? How were you involved?

Jimin must’ve seen your worried expression, because he gave you a little squeeze to bring you back down from your whirling head. “It’s going to be fine.” He kissed your cheek. Someone down the table made a whistle noise and cheered him on. Everyone was doing the same.

“We should toast to Jimin’s new girlfriend too. After an entire six years, he’s found someone.” People began raising their glasses and cheering. You weren’t sure how to react, so you let Jimin orchestrate the situation.

“Everyone, you don’t have to. Stop making this all weird for her. She’s going to leave me by the end of tonight.” His dazzling smile shined as someone handed him a glass.

“Come on, Jimin. It’s a huge thing. It’s a small toast to recognize your relationship.”

“We’re not in a relationship.” You were so overwhelmed, you blurted out the first thing you could think of. Everyone’s faces started to settle and people were distraught. Jimin’s hand retreated from your thigh and he set down the glass. The atmosphere was suffocating and intense. You weren’t sure how anything you could’ve said would make it better.

“I mean– we’re seeing each other. But we’re not official. I’m not his girlfriend.” You continued and you wanted to stop yourself. Maybe it was the alcohol talking. People talked to one another, chatter increasing. It was extremely embarrassing for both you and Jimin. An instant regret washed over you when you saw Jimin shift in his seat, uncomfortably.

“Well, sorry that we assumed anything.“ Someone tried to laugh it off, but the air was still stiff and people were still uneasy.

In the car, Jimin didn’t speak much. The twins fell asleep during the ride, so it was filled with tense silence.

"Jimin, I’m sorry about what I said. I shouldn’t have said anything at all. I— was lost— overwhelmed with everything. They were asking me questions that I couldn’t answer.” His grip relaxed on the steering wheel and he peeked over at you.

“Don’t apologize. You’re right. You’re not my girlfriend. Sorry if I made it seem like you were — to them, I mean. We never talked about what this was, but it made sense as to what you said.” Jimin spoke in a softer manner. His tone was smooth and it was almost like a lullaby.

“I feel bad about it because I like you, I really do and I know you like me too. I don’t know what to call us.” You sighed, frustrated for being such an idiot. Jimin grabbed your hand and held it on top of the middle console.

“You don’t need to worry about that all. I like you, that’s all that matters.” It was as if his words and his touch removed all the horrible feelings you felt a second ago. A magic touch, something only Jimin acquired.

Jimin needed you more than ever. This was finally your opportunity to be there for him. He told you what had happened a week after the dinner. Jen had pulled him over to tell him that she was moving.

Jen was moving to London because her fiance had a new job offering, a glorious offer that he couldn’t past up. They planned that after the wedding, they were going to live together in the new country. That meant leaving the twins and Jimin.

She had been helping Jimin the twins’ entire lives. She was his extra pair of hands when he was too busy to pick them up from school or if he needed someone to babysit. Jen was there for him and the girls. She told him that she could no longer tend to them like how she use to. That put Jimin in a difficult spot.

Minjoo and Minseo were both still young and barely started elementary school. He wasn’t sure how he could possibly take care of them alone. That was when Jen offered you. You entered their lives now, practically a part of their happy family. Jimin could lean on you if he needed anything.

He said that it was bizarre and completely unfair to you. You weren’t obligated to the family and had other responsibilities in your life. You had a job that required to work difficult hours at night right after a day job. He could only see you during the weekends.

It was a lot to ask of you because the job at the club restricted you from living your life. Before Jimin and the girls, you didn’t have much to live for. You went to school and school meant money, so you worked. You didn’t care if you didn’t have time for friends or family. Your education and forming your future was your top priority to the point where you’d stoop so low for it.

Things have changed though. Maybe the family was a blessing in disguise. Maybe it was time to change. You had something to live for now. You had something that wasn’t in your own control. It was always you that you needed to worry about. You had to only take care of yourself.

You were willing to be there for them. Jimin underestimated how much they meant to you. If they needed you, then you’ll be there for them. Your only problems were probably finding a new job that fits a lighter schedule and having to face Wes.

Wes had no clue about you and Jimin, not that he’d care much. However, he was possessive and you weren’t sure how he’d react to you quitting. He’d still try to hook up with you, and you’ve let him once or twice every two weeks.

But you didn’t feel comfortable with that anymore, especially now that you’re seeing Jimin, who didn’t know you were sleeping with Wes. It felt wrong sneaking around behind his back, so you had to end things are fast as possible.

“How’s my favorite bartender?” Wes ran his hands down your waist. You stiffen and patted your wet hands on your uniform.

“I’m fine.” You awkwardly turned to face him, a strained smile on your face. You’ve decided that you’ll let him have you for one more night, so he wouldn’t get too mad at you.

“Where’s my kiss?” He gripped the back of your neck and you whimpered at his force.

“I-I’m at the front bar right now. I don’t think it’s right to be intimate, Wes.” You stammered, scared that he’d break your neck.

“When do I give a shit if people see? I’m the boss around here, (Y/N). I decide if you lose your job. Do you have a boy toy here that you’re afraid to see you kissing another man?” Wes had grew suspicious over the course of the months. You’ve never explicitly mentioned Jimin, but it was obvious you were hiding someone.

You shook your head, and Wes pushed your face into his. You scrunched up your face, not kissing him back. You hated kissing him. A kiss was an intimate thing that people shared and Wes ruined that for you.

Suddenly, you heard a loud crash at your side. A glass broke at your foot. Wes pulled away and you faced the culprit that threw the cup. It was Jen.

She stood over the counter, repulsed and inflamed. Her tiny body boiled as she yelled at you from the top of her lungs, “how dare you!? How could you do this to Jimin or the girls? You are a thoughtless whore. I can’t believe I thought for even a moment to trust you with their love. You played us all, (Y/N), bravo. Jimin doesn’t deserve to be played by someone like you.”

Wes let go of your waist and observed while leaning against the work station. You were too shocked to registered what was happening. “Jen.. please, let me explain..”

“I don’t need you to explain anything. What I saw was enough for me to make my final verdict. You are no longer allowed to see them. Stay the fuck away from my family. I refuse to let Jimin fall in love with someone just for her to hurt him like this. He’s suffered enough in his life, he’s a great guy. You are not the person I thought you were. I thought that I could leave them in your hands, that I actually liked you. I was so wrong. You’re trash.” Her voice was loud and clear, ringing in your ears. Streams were running down her face and a few of her friends watched from behind her, stunned at the scene.

Before you knew it, tears were falling down your face as well. You stood there motionless. “It-Its- a misunderstanding.”

“Save it, (Y/N). Just stay the fuck away from us. You never belonged in the first place. Did you actually think that you could fill the shoes of their mother? You don’t know a single thing about a family. Stop trying to stick yourself in somewhere you don’t fucking belong.” That stung you. Every word she said hurt like a dagger. You were pouring blood from your open wounds.

She was right. You never belonged in their family. How dare you interject in their lives like that? How could you burden Jimin with all your worries and think about treating the girls like your own? You didn’t know how to love a family.

Jen berated on, “you don’t have to pretend to like Jimin anymore or that you care for the twins. I thought of you as family. Unbelievable. I don’t know what sick game you play, but you don’t have to do this anymore. Don’t you dare try to contact Jimin, or I will expose all of this to him.”

You had no defense, no words for yourself. You broke the first rule you had for yourself. You hurt Jimin. You should’ve known better, that you couldn’t hold onto things for long. You didn’t think for anyone besides yourself.

Jen rushed off, her friends following her. Wes crossed his arms and ducked low to face you. “So I was right. You do have a boy toy. Amazing.” He was being sarcastic with his last compliment. You cried, ashamed of who you were.

Wes shook his head and walked off. A customer was calling for your attention. You’d almost forgot you were still at work, so you wiped up your tears to serve him.

Wes let you off for the next two weeks because of how wrecked you were. He was afraid that you would scare off customers and that he didn’t want to see a slacker at work. You had no effort to work anyways. The life was sucked out of your entire body.

You avoided him like how Jen told you to. You stayed away. Jimin would not stop texting or calling you, even after you decided to call things off. He’d come to your apartment, knocking and calling after you. You didn’t answer, instead you cried in your bed at the sound of his voice.

You missed him.

Kim told you not to show up at school either, judging by how things went down. She said that Jimin asked about you every morning and the girls would cry every time they didn’t see you. It was heartbreaking. You couldn’t explain yourself.

Jen hated your guts. She had every right to. Kim tried to console you that it wasn’t your fault and that Jimin would understand. But you pleaded her not to say anything to him. You knew it would bring him great pain knowing that Wes gets to kiss and touch you in ways that Jimin hasn’t even.

You thought about them everyday and you sobbed every night. You were filled with defeat and sadness. You blamed yourself for everything. Your selfish acts left you with a mess. You were so greedy to be loved by someone who wasn’t an asshole, who knew how to treasure your time.

After the years that Wes has been treating you like shit, you only wanted to be loved. Was it wrong for you to want such a simple thing? However, in this case, if things went bad, you didn’t just hurt one person. You hurt a group. If you hurt Jimin, it meant that you hurt the twins as well.

You were an idiot to think that you could waltz into their family and fit in. They were living happily before you and now they were miserable. You let them get too attached before they could realize that you were a horrible, selfish person.

The more you were alone, the more time you had to reflect about why Jimin never made things official between the two of you. It made sense. Jimin probably sensed that something was wrong with you. He felt uneasy and didn’t want to invest his time fully into a relationship with you. He couldn’t trust you.

He never spoke of his past or strange things that occurred because he didn’t think he could confide in you. He caught onto your ugly heart before you could stop it from showing.

Jimin had never been so confused in his life. He wasn’t sure why you weren’t talking to him or why you suddenly wanted to stop seeing him. He thought the feelings were mutual, he made it clear.

However, there was still that chance that you didn’t like him as much as he liked you. He couldn’t get that scene out of his head. The night of Jen’s dinner when you told everyone that you two weren’t dating, how you weren’t his girlfriend. Maybe you didn’t like him that much.

It tore him to bits and pieces and he felt like a fool for falling so hard for you. He probably pressured you too much to see him, or you felt bad for a single father of twins. Whatever it was, it destroyed him.

His frail heart wouldn’t give up on you though. He checked up on you regularly, even if you didn’t want to see him. He needed to know how you were doing or if you were eating. He missed you too much to stop caring.

“Just give it up, Jimin. She doesn’t want to see you.” Kim explained over and over every morning.

“Please, Ms. Kim. I only need to know if she’s okay.”

“She’s fine.” Kim seemed doubtful, but she was the only one Jimin could rely on. “If you want to know how she is, call her yourself.”

“She won’t answer any of my texts or calls. I visit her but she doesn’t answer. I’ve taken it as she doesn’t want me to bother her anymore. She wants nothing to do with me because I probably was responsible for it. You’re the only one I could ask to know how she is.” Jimin’s hair was messy and his appearance wasn’t the same as it use to be.

Kim knew that it wasn’t his fault, but she couldn’t break your trust. She couldn’t do anything for Jimin, but to lie that you were okay. “Get over her, Jimin. It’s only for the best.”

The twins were having a hard time as well. Jimin heard them crying almost every night, wondering where you ran off to. They were disheartened that you abandoned them, like how their real mother did. Jimin knew that wasn’t your intent. You loved the twins.

Everything was all over the place. Jimin felt like a dog chasing after a goose, crashing into a tree every four seconds. You were the one, someone he thought it would take him years to meet. He was growing impatient every year, but there you were.

You gleamed in every spotlight and made him dizzy. You made him feel jittery, like when he had too many cups of the office’s coffee. Something about you made him thankful to the heavens that you two could finally be together.

Jungkook and Taehyung wouldn’t leave his side, knowing his conditions weren’t good. They were great friends, but Jimin didn’t have enough heart to appreciate them. He could only think about his aching heart and the emptiness that accompanied him after you left.

[A/N]: alot of things happened in this chapter so i hope it wasn’t hard to process!! the series is slowly coming to an end, and i have to warn that i will not be able to update as frequent as i use to. im not sure if i need to take a short hiatus, but if i do, it would probably be after this chapter. i hope you guys don’t blame me bc i know how irritating it is not being able to have an update for your favorite stories. ill try my best!! thank you all for reading so far and i hope you all continue to support this series !!

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thankscaptainobvious · 8 years ago

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Okay, I’ve tried to write this out several times now and haven’t been able to get it out without the post turning into a long, rambling mess that essentially equates to “abuse = bad”.

Let’s see if I can do it better this time.

It starts out talking about DaddyOFive, but to fully understand my position, you need to understand my past and where I come from.

I had never heard of daddyofive before this morning as I fell out of the ‘youtube family vlogger’ realm after Shaytards moved to Idaho and, in my opinion, let their money get the best of them.

Within the past few months, I’ve became a pretty big fan of TheDeFrancoFam, and subsequently, the Philip DeFranco show. Phil has a way of getting the point across, but still encouraging everyone to come to their own conclusions that I found to be incredibly refreshing. The most recent episode at the time was “WOW...We Need To Talk About This...” (TRIGGER WARNING: this can be extremely hard to watch/hear, so if you are triggered by loud screaming and child abuse, avoid it and just google the recaps that are all over the internet)

I was not prepared for what I would see and hear in that video.

The way the children cringed and flinched away from their parents, the way the sobbed as they collapsed into heaps on the floor of various rooms of their house - It was almost too much to take.

It was the children’s screams that really caught my attention though and while I can’t say it was a full flashback in that I disconnected with reality, I certainly felt like I was a small child again, having my grown father scream at the top of his lungs while being less than a full 12 inches away from my face.

I love my Dad very much and in the couple of years preceding his death, we were closer than ever. But I would be a straight up liar if I said that there weren’t times when I was absolutely petrified of my father.

One of my earliest memories of my father’s emotional (and even, once in a blue moon, physical) abuse was being five years old, so in 1995. He had been at the dentist and had all of his decaying teeth removed (He hadn’t taken care of them, and had spent most of the 70′s in a drug and booze induced haze, which probably didn’t help). My mother had been volunteering at the local Salvation Army sorting center with her sister all day, which wasn’t all that uncommon when we were younger. I don’t remember the exact details of how the fight started, but it kicked off and escalated in a hurry. At the time we lived in an apartment that wasn’t huge but had most of the main rooms interconnected

My Mom and Dad were arguing in the kitchen while my older brother (who was maybe 7 years old, at the most) and I were hiding in the toy room. I remember thinking that the screaming was so loud and I was getting very upset, so I shoved my head under a big ole’ beanbag chair that was in the toyroom and tried to block out the noise. My brother was trying to comfort me and keep an eye on the argument. One minute they were just arguing - and the next, my Mom was screaming that he was choking her and for my brother to dial 911 (I remember seeing red marks and faint bruises around her neck for what seemed like an eternity in my five year old eyes). There’s another pretty big gap in my memory there, but it picks up with my Mom calling my brother and I out to the Dining Room where a uniformed police officer was standing and questioning her. The cop kept trying to reassure us that everything was okay, that Dad was only going away ‘for a little while’ - but I still burst into tears when he was hauled off. My five year old self wasn’t able to comprehend the magnitude of what my abuser/my mother’s abuser had done. All I knew was that he was my Dad, and I wanted him at home with us. In the years since that happened, I’ve been called crazy and insane, been told that I straight up imagined the incident (Mom said he was busted for traffic tickets, but why would they have picked that exact day to pop him for a bullshit traffic warrant?) - even though my older brother, now 29 years old, remembers it just as vividly as I do.

Over the next, idk, 11-12 years, their arguments remained mostly just verbal altercations. There was one case when I was.....idk, 15 maybe (?) when a new owner took over the gas station/convenience store down the street from our house. They offered pizzas and we were all hungry, so wtf not? The order took forever to get ready and ended up being just burnt and nasty - so by the time we got home, my Mom and I were incredibly frustrated, tired, and hungry. Dad walked into the kitchen to ask what had taken so long and I put my hand up in a “Don’t even ask, bro” type of gesture. Within maybe five seconds, I had a 6′5″, 300+ lbs man charging at me, getting so close to my face that I could feel the spit flying out of his mouth as he screamed at me (At the time, I was maybe 5′6″, 110 lbs soaking wet). He said later that after being a prison guard for 20+ years, he had taken the hand motion as a sign of aggression and just lost it. I didn’t care - I was terrified of my father that day and even though it’s TMI, I damn near pissed my pants as I thought with every ounce of my being that he was gonna punch me right in the face.

Again, though, he apologized - and like a dumdum, I accepted; He was my Dad - he hadn’t actually hit me, just yelled and that couldn’t be abusive....could it?

Another incident happened maybe five years after that, around Christmas time. My Mom, Brother, Sister in-law (she was just a girlfriend back then), and I were all watching a movie when my Dad got home from work. He called me into the kitchen and asked if I had bought my Mom anything for Christmas yet. I didn’t have a job, and was trying to survive and pay bills off of $160 a month - I simply couldn’t afford anything, so I told him that No, I hadn’t. Once again, he started screaming in my face, telling me I was an awful daughter, that I was just the worst, that I was a huge disappointment, etc. I walked away, wasn’t having it anymore. I made it to the living room where everyone else was to collect my things before I heard Dad shout from being me “Don’t fuckin’ walk away from me! Get your goddamned ass back here!”. I remember snapping around and saying “What are you going to do? Kick me out? Fucking go for it - Homeless would be better than living here” and then stomping up the stairs to my room. I had a duffle bag packed and was ready to leave - I had nowhere to stay, but I had hit my limit (I didn’t actually end up leaving). My Mom came upstairs and talked me down, told me that my brother had been about five seconds away from tearing off after my Dad in my defense. I’ve held onto resentment over this argument for years, but once again, I tried to forgive him because he was my Dad.

That’s the life of an emotionally abused person, especially when the abuser is the parent. You don’t want to get your parents in trouble, you don’t want to see the person who provides for you getting locked up - but you also hate the way you’re treated. It might not be physical abuse, but trust me when I say that the emotional abuse that we all endured has carried long lasting effects, even to this day.

My brother still tries his hardest to protect my Mom and I, has that strong instinct to protect those that are weaker than him.

Me? I have severe anxiety issues, a case of Severe Panic Disorder. I self-harm (I’ve only done so once in the past couple of years, but the urge is always there - like a junkie itching for their next fix). For awhile, I had developed an eating disorder and was only 4′5″ and 54 lbs. Anytime someone yells at me, I shut the fuck down - and if you walk towards me or get anywhere near my face while shouting? Yeah, I burst into tears and go full fetal position.

So, back to the original daddyofive point here, I get what those kids are going through. Sure, they say that they aren’t being abused.....because maybe those kids don’t realize that what they experience on a daily basis is NOT normal or maybe because they don’t want to see their Dad and Mom (Step-Mom for Cody and Emma) get into trouble or maybe because they don’t want to speak up and risk making things worse for themselves.

“Well, if they were abused, they wouldn’t have xboxes and playstations!”

Motherfucker, I had every game system growing up and when computers finally became common place, I had one of those too. That doesn’t negate the fact that my Dad could be an emotionally abusive asshole.

“Well, it’s just discipline!”

Discipline is having the kids write lines if they steal or grounding them from xbox if they don’t do their chores. Discipline is NOT screaming at your kids until you are red in the face, or until they’re crying and screaming so much that their voices are hoarse and throats are raw. Discipline is not allowing your wife to mock her stepchild for smearing shit when it is one of the major signs of stress/child abuse.

I urge all of you to report their videos to YouTube and to contact the proper authorities (I don’t have the information, but there are posts floating around that do).

Please - don’t be an innocent bystander. Be an active participant in rescuing those kids.

#daddyofive #Personal #Text Post #TW: Abuse #TW: Assault #TW: Emotional Abuse #TW: Child Abuse

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rebelthroughreading-blog · 6 years ago

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Mask of Shadows by Linsey Miller

Gender fluid Sal was once a petty thief but now races against trained nobles to be part of the Queen’s Left Hand – a prestigious assassin.

Quick Information

price: $10.99

number of pages: 352

ISBN: 978-1492647492

publisher and date: Sourcebooks Fire 2017

author’s website: http://www.linseymiller.com/

genre: juvenile fiction, fantasy

main subjects: gender identity, gender fluid, revenge

Plot

Sallot Leon, a gender fluid thief is good at it, but life should mean more than that. During a robbery, Sal spots a flyer about an audition for a new member of the Queen’s Left Hand, the Queen’s personal royal assassins. Each member is named after the jewels on the Queen’s rings that she wears. With two motives, she springs to the opportunity prepared to take down the members of the royal court who wronged her people and to serve her Queen. The audition is a competition of twenty-five other competitors who all are trying to kill one another without getting caught. Along the way, through lessons on manners and poisons, physical feats, and assassin attempts, Sal works desperately for her chance to become someone important who can also avenge her people. But there are always obstacles.

Who’s reading it?

Written on a 9-12 grade level, the same age would be interested in the story.

Why did I read it?

A good fantasy, action-adventure novel can always be healthy for the overworked brain. Something fun and less stressful than the drama of life calls to everyone at some point. Mask of Shadows serves as that fun story of action and espionage, but it also brings an interesting story. Sal, a boy one day and a girl the next, is conflicted on where her loyalties lie because of corruption in the royal court. Showing inner conflict, deception, and true character development, Mask of Shadows is a little more than the average action novel.

Evaluation

Sallot is a different character to most. Even for a fantasy novel, the character has something else going on. Whereas in the average story you might have a one-track minded character who sets out to win this competition in order to infiltrate the court and get revenge, Sal is conflicted on how much is necessary. Being Opal, this great honor to serve their Queen whom they all adore, would mean that Sal may have to put aside those strong negative biases and feelings towards those who wronged their own people. With such a huge love for their country, Sal wants to use thiefly skills to right a wrong. Sal takes this “bad guy” skill set and uses it to attempt to achieve a “good guy” goal.

The auditioners for the Opal position are all given numbers. Each of them has a mask, and no one except for the current Left Hand, the assassins who are also judging the competition, knows the audtioners’ true identities. The Left Hand too wear masks so as to avoid anyone knowing their identities. Sal’s gender fluidity serves as a mask that shields wandering eyes on knowing who is behind the mask. The book is masked with masks that hide little bits of information from the readers as they journey alongside Sal. The readers have the hard job of seeing through the masks in order to understand the story to its full potential. The question of magic and whether or not it still lives despite what the Queen tells her people. Men in the Royal Court rest safely behind their Queen despite what they did to their own people in the past. Every ounce of politics in the book are cloak-and-dagger, as they seem to be nowadays - even though Sal lives in a world that feels a bit more medieval than our own.

Perhaps not a literary classic, Mask of Shadows serves its purpose to give readers a fun, action-filled read that also includes hints of a more intriguing and intricate story to come. As a first in a series, it leaves readers wanting more in soon to come books that continue Sal’s story.

The Issues

LGBTQ

offensive language

violence

Sal is gender fluid. When Sal feels like a girl, she is a girl, and inversely, when he feels like a boy, she is a boy. Sal describes the appropriate gender as what he, she, or they feel that day, so paying close attention to the mannerisms and clothing is important in determining what to say. What to say is confusing, difficult to determine, and all around easier to just avoid using any pronouns for those who are not as proficient.

Sal is a thief who is auditioning to be an assassin. She steals, murders, conspires, and everything someone should not do. The others auditioning against her plan and commit murders to ensure their spot. Everyone lies. Everyone deceives one another. Sal is framed for another person’s murder. They are rude to one another. Accuse each other, speak ill of one another, and berate each other constantly.

So why should we read it?

Gender fluid is not a commonly covered subject in reading. It may not be the most important part of the story, but it is an interesting aspect. Because the sexuality is not explored in depth, the readers only get a glimpse and feel for what it means to be gender fluid; however, it is enough to possibly spark interest for further research. Learning something new about the world is always a great feeling.

An action story is a great relief, even if not a favorite genre. Overall, the action-packed adventure stories like this take less effort to read than something like a mystery. Of course, Sal’s story brings in more than your pure action story, but that underlying ease of action is still there.

How can we use it?

On top of everything else, Sal has a mission and is not deterred by anything or anyone else. Sal is going to be Opal and avenge those wronged or is going to die trying. That kind of motivation and resilience is something that speaks to people right now. Young adults need someone who gets their need for purpose, and who else but a revenge-seeking ex-thief gone assassin is fit for the job? Sal goes through trials to get to the final destination, and that was certainly not easy.

Sal is allowed to be whoever he, she, or they want to be. Everyone accepts that Sal is gender fluid. They do question it, but overall, it is not overly important. They have more important things to worry about than what to call the person they are going to try to kill later anyway. To Elise, love is more important than gender. She knows that she cannot call herself straight for loving someone who is gender fluid, but she does not care. She knows how she feels, and that is all that matters.

In the same way, young adults can see something in these stories that help them with themselves. The beauty of book, especially fantasy, is the truth that is hidden beneath the mysticism and magic (or lack thereof in this case).

Booktalk Ideas

The Queen calls her personal assassins her Left Hand and titles them after the jewels in her rings. Usually, when speaking of personal servants who work closely with someone, they are considered the right hand. What is the importance of calling her assassins the Left Hand instead?

Before the auditions, Sal admits to never having killed before. Do you think that Sal was unable to kill before? Or unwilling? Could Sal only kill if the purpose was meaningful enough (revenge, winning, etc.)?

What else can I read?

Royal Bastards by Andrew Shvarts

Seraphina by Rachel Hartman

Graceling by Kristin Cashore

A Wicked Thing by Rhiannon Thomas

Awards and Lists

None yet but it is only a little over a year old.

Professional Reviews

Michele Kirichanskaya (2017), Lambda Literary Review - https://search-proquest-com.libaccess.sjlibrary.org/docview/1956601238?accountid=10361&rfr_id=info%3Axri%2Fsid%3Aprimo

April Spisak (2017), Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books - https://muse-jhu-edu.libaccess.sjlibrary.org/article/663477

Elaine Fultz (2017), School Library Journal - http://bi.galegroup.com.libaccess.sjlibrary.org/essentials/article/GALE%7CA497611175/0b7b8b461ee24dbf7be693806b9701ae?u=csusj

#young adult #YA #fiction #linsey miller #fantasy #thief #assassin #action #adventure #murder #competition #royal court #kingdom #medieval

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wallythayer · 7 years ago

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5 Tips for Losing Weight — Without Calorie-Counting

For a lot of people trying to lose weight, counting is comforting. Numbers define guidelines, goals, and success — and there are oh-so-many ways to measure the weight-loss potential of food: points, calories, grams, serving sizes.

But there is a different school of thought that looks beyond the numbers and toward a more holistic approach to eating, one that views food in terms of its effect on the broader health and balance of your whole body. And yes, this approach can help you find your way to a healthier weight, too.

“If losing weight and maintaining a healthy weight were as simple as counting, we’d be a nation of skinny minnies,” says Marcelle Pick, MSN, OB/GYN, NP, author of The Core Balance Diet.

Pick and other integrative-health practitioners advise paying close attention to how you feel instead of obsessing about numbers. “If you feel lethargic, moody, and sick most of the time, there is a good chance something is biochemically broken,” she notes. “No amount of counting grams of fat, protein, or sugar will help you lose weight until you identify and resolve the underlying health issue.”

In fact, evaluating your food strictly by numbers rather than by its nutritional and metabolic merits is not only ineffective, but it may actually lead to weight gain.

We talked to top nutritionists and integrative physicians about the factors that have the greatest effect on your ability to achieve and maintain a healthy body weight. Here is their take on the five priorities that make a difference.

1. Reduce Inflammation

Chronic systemic inflammation is your body’s misdirected immune response that can lead to high cholesterol, heart disease, type 2 diabetes, and more. A side effect of inflammation in your gastrointestinal system, or gut, is often weight gain. If you regularly drink alcohol, pop painkillers or antibiotics, eat processed foods, or have an autoimmune disease, your gut may well be inflamed.

When the gut becomes inflamed, calcium and sodium enter surrounding cells, which causes them to attract and hold water. Think of how a speck of dirt makes your eyes water. Now imagine your body drawing water into the tissue around your gut as it tries to flush toxins.

“The extra water causes bloating and lowers the function of the cells’ energy centers, or mitochondria, making the body feel sluggish,” explains Elson Haas, MD, founder and director of the Preventive Medical Center of Marin in San Rafael, Calif., and author of Staying Healthy With New Medicine.

You don’t only feel heavy — you look it. Haas calls this tissue swelling and abdominal bloating “false fat.” The bulge might appear to be 10 to 25 pounds of excess fat, but it’s not “true fat” (also called adipose tissue). It’s water-logged tissue, he says, “and it’s almost never corrected by conventional weight-loss diets.”

The biggest culprit behind inflammation-related weight gain is processed foods. Ironically, most reduced-calorie and “diet” foods stoke the fire.

“So many food products presented as a means of weight control are highly refined and full of chemicals that the body doesn’t recognize,” says Annie Kay, MS, RD, author of Every Bite Is Divine. “The standard American weight-loss menu is a diet soda and a frozen, low-calorie entrée,” she says. “It’s an inflammatory nightmare.”

You can reverse inflammation by eating nutritious whole foods and reducing or eliminating processed and packaged foods. As inflammation calms, the body often recalibrates to a healthy weight. Specific foods that fight inflammation include onions, turmeric, red grapes, and green tea, as well as berries, dark leafy greens, and coldwater fish.

2. Balance Your Blood Sugar

Simple carbohydrates are a bigger factor than calories in driving weight gain for most people. This is because they lack nutrients — namely fiber and protein — that slow digestion and balance blood sugar. “The refining process strips grains and natural sugars of their chewier, more nutrient-dense casings and leaves a simple carbohydrate chain that the body mainlines as glucose,” explains Pick.

When glucose enters the body quickly, blood sugar soars. In a scramble to balance the load, the pancreas shoots out insulin, the body’s fat-storage hormone. Blood sugar momentarily stabilizes, but insulin is overproduced, energy levels fall, and hunger returns. When we reach for another simple-carbohydrate-based snack, the cycle begins anew. Long-term consequences include weight gain and insulin-related metabolic syndrome, which sets the stage for diseases like type 2 diabetes.

To even out your blood sugar and maintain a healthy weight, eat plenty of nutritious proteins, fats, and fiber-rich vegetables, and reduce your intake of sugar and refined grains. Avoid all sodas, including diet sodas. The intense sweetness of artificial sugars can fool the body into releasing insulin, says Jacob Teitelbaum, MD, author of The Complete Guide to Beating Sugar Addiction.

Teitelbaum recommends nutrient-dense snacks and small meals to stave off sugar cravings. A half-cup serving of nuts, for example, can help keep the carb munchies at bay without weight-gain concerns. “At that pace, you don’t have to worry about the calories,” he says, noting that 2 to 4 ounces of high-quality nuts per day may also lower “bad” cholesterol.

3. Heal Your Microbiome

Ultimately, you can’t maintain a healthy weight without cultivating a healthy microbiome — the trillions of bacteria, yeasts, and fungi housed in your gut. That’s because a healthy gut is a cool gut, and a cool gut digests and metabolizes food efficiently.

To heal an inflamed gut and build a welcoming home for health-supporting microbes, start by targeting bad bacteria. Identify and curtail foods that you may have an intolerance to — common culprits include dairy and grains containing gluten. Signs of intolerance or sensitivity include belching, diarrhea, gas, fatigue, and irritability. (The best way to identify food sensitivities and intolerances is to do an elimination diet; see ELmag.com/ifmdetox.)

Next, reduce your intake of nutrient-poor processed foods, including crackers, chips, baked goods, and some breads, as well as fast foods, sweets, and anything containing artificial ingredients and preservatives — all of which can disrupt gut flora. Most processed foods are also packed with oils high in low-quality omega-6 fatty acids, which fan inflammation.

Finally, cultivate friendly flora and fauna by diversifying your diet. Eat a variety of whole foods, including all types of berries, dark greens, nonstarchy vegetables, and legumes.

Liz Lipski, PhD, a certified nutrition specialist and author of Digestive Wellness, recommends up to two daily servings of cultured and fermented foods, such as yogurt, kefir, sauerkraut, kimchi, and miso. All are natural sources of probiotics, enzymes, and prebiotics (soluble fibers that feed good probiotic microbes).

A high-quality probiotic supplement can help, but it’s not the same as eating fermented foods. “Historically, people have gotten their probiotics from food,” Lipski says. “It’s the life in foods that gives us life.”

(For more on building microbiome health, see “Build Your Microbiome“.)

4. Boost Your Mood

Depression and weight gain often go hand in hand — many antidepressant medications themselves can lead to extra pounds. Plus, the lower your mood, the more likely you are to succumb to cravings for food heavy in starches and processed carbs, such as pasta.

What your body may actually need is a shot of serotonin, the brain’s happiness chemical. Many people, and women in particular, experience significant carbohydrate cravings when they are deficient in this neurotransmitter, says Pick. Ninety-five percent of the body’s serotonin is stored in the gut, so the happier your gut, the better your odds of a good serotonin supply.

Because serotonin is made of amino acids, the building blocks of protein, you’ll want to emphasize healthy proteins in your diet. The most important amino acid for making serotonin is tryptophan; numerous studies link mild to moderate depression and restless sleep with tryptophan deficiency. The body can’t manufacture tryptophan on its own, so you have to get it from your diet; top sources include milk, soybeans, cashews, and poultry.

More broadly, eating packaged and processed food can lead to nutrient deficiencies that tank both your mood and your metabolism.

“Mood is one of the first places nutrient deficiency shows up,” says Lipski. “Processed foods give our bodies information that says, ‘Be sluggish. Be in a bad mood.’ Wholesome foods make your moods more vibrant and help you feel more alive.”

5. Tame Stress With Relaxation

If you eat well and exercise but still can’t lose the weight, your hormones may be unbalanced. When people hear the word “hormone,” they tend to think of estrogen and testosterone, says Pick, but those are minor players. In truth, the body’s major hormones are insulin and cortisol.

As mentioned earlier, insulin’s job is to transport sugar from your bloodstream to your cells. “Food controls insulin, so what you eat has a huge impact on your hormones,” Pick says. Keep insulin balanced by eating regular, small, nutrient-dense meals.

Balancing cortisol, the stress hormone, is also vital to maintaining a healthy weight. Like most of your hormones, cortisol is made from cholesterol. When you’re stressed, your body makes extra cortisol to help it overcome a challenge — real or perceived — but your cholesterol supply doesn’t change. Your body has to divert cholesterol away from making hormones that keep your metabolism running strong. “That’s called the cortisol steal,” says Pick. In short, stress bogs down your metabolism.

The causes of stress, of course, aren’t just psychological; they’re also physical. A low-calorie diet can stress your body. When you don’t eat enough calories to properly fuel your resting metabolic rate, says Pick, “your brain sends a message to your body to slow metabolism. As a result, cells cling to calories rather than burn them quickly, and your metabolism downshifts.”

Counter cortisol by activating your body’s relaxation response, also called the “rest and digest” response. Start by getting plenty of sleep. Then carve out a bit of time each day to center yourself: Consider prayer, meditation, a walk in nature, or simply sitting in a park.

“Reconnecting to yourself,” says Pick, “will make an enormous difference to your hormonal health.” (For more on managing stress, see “The Cortisol Curve” and “Reset Your Stress“.)

This originally appeared as “Who’s Counting” in the October 2017 print issue of Experience Life.

Get the full story at https://experiencelife.com/article/5-tips-for-losing-weight-without-calorie-counting/

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