#anyway there's all sorts of other tiny details I could add about that night but it was already getting way too long | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gummygowon · 4 years

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cute relationship things with ateez!

genre: fluff (a lot)

warnings: none :)

established relationship!

a/n: i meant to post this like two weeks ago but i never finished it so consider this an early valentine’s day gift <3 ;)

seonghwa:

for some reason, i feel like seonghwa likes to read books

with that being said, on lazy days where you guys didn’t want to get up and do anything

you guys would read books !!!

before you guys would read some were recommendations from each other on your own

and then maybe rant to each other over little details about the book like how the main character went back to their toxic ex or how the ending of a book was so bad

“seonghwa, how did you even read this?!? the stupid ass main character keeps going back to that one jerk! like does she not realize she deserves more than his ugly ass???!!!?”

“y/n, just keep reading.”

“but hwa-”

turns out the main character got with the other woman yayyyyy!!! fuck shitty men

i don’t know how it happened but you guys started your own little book club with each other

so you guys could finally talk rant together at the same time about the book

so since you guys started to read the same book and if you guys found down time together you would read together

like, imagine it’s a peaceful friday night

seonghwa is back from work and so are you

you guys already showered and ate dinner

you’re just reading and then seonghwa just scoops you up and then puts you in between his legs with your back against his chest

and you’re like “wtf bro?”

and he’s just like, “what? i wanna read too???”

“didn’t you like read ahead tho??”

“yeah, but i wanna read it again.”

that was a fatass lie

he just wanted to be close to you

hongjoong:

ok so, we all know that this man is hella busy all the time

mans is the leader, song writer, producer, dancer, rapper (which is why he is good at all positions)

but you were patient with him and whenever he goes days without seeing you due to his busy ass schedule he would make it up to you yk what i mean

but on the more chill days when you saw hongjoong or even the days where he was cooped in his studio (you would visit him there because sometimes you just had to see him)

you guys would just lay on the couch, just enjoying each other’s presence and not feel like you have to make up for lost time

you would be on the bottom on your phone or reading a magazine/book

then hongjoong would be at the top with his head on your stomach as he would be writing down lyrics that came to mind

killing two birds with one stone you feel me

sometimes you would show him a funny meme that you found or quote something that you just read to him

“hongjoong, look at the way he fell!” you would be dying of laughter

and then he wouldn’t notice because he was really roped into making lyrics

but you also didn’t see him focusing so much because you were of course laughing at the kid that accidentally got bitchslapped off the couch because of their sibling

“joongie look!!!”

“what is it?”

you would then show him what happened and then he would look at with that “you really interrupted me for this??” type of look

“i just lost my train of thought for this song because you wanted to show me this kid falling off of a couch???”

“yes?”

he would just bring a hand to his face and think what tf? why tf? and then slowly start laughing because of what just happened

“see, wasn’t it funny?”

“a child getting hurt isn’t funny, y/n” he would laugh while scolding you

yunho:

yunho powers im sorry for this one

alright so, it’s night time

you guys are about to go to bed after a long day or work/school whatever

your eyes are fluttering closed because the day got you beat beat

but then yunho just kisses your face

and then you open your eyes slowly again to see yunho look like he just got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do

like imagine a kid that just got caught drawing on the walls

that’s what his face would look like

he’s just laying there like “i thought you were asleep...”

“i was just about to...”

yunho feels lowkey guilty now because you’re awake now and he knows you had a long day

he just couldn’t resist kissing you

you just looked so pretty and peaceful sleeping

mans was reminded by the universe themself about how lucky he was being able to date you

like, godamn what did he do in his past life to deserve you?

ok, back to this reaction idea thing-

yunho would apologize for waking you up with his cheeks a nice rosy color

you just look at him with tired eyes

“i’ll forgive you, if you give me more kisses.”

and yunho’s smile just lights up the whole damn room and he’s like oh? say less

so he goes to kissing your face

like all over

your nose

your cheeks

forehead

basically anywhere ok?

and you end up laughing because it tickles

but you just want him to kiss your lips which he does

... eventually lmao

but when he does your still laughing which causes him to laugh

he tells you “i love you, did you know that?”

and you get all flustered and shit but you still keep that playful energy around

“i love you too, but you aren’t forgiven just yet”

which leads to more kisses :))))

yeosang:

ok so you’re now the busy one

yeosang has so much respect for you because holy shit how do you balance that busy ass schedule of yours

your homework loads were no jokes

then to add to that you have a job which was even more stressful

it was amazing how you can manage all that and still keep a smile on your face

you also had major respect for yeosang as an idol

the industry was not a place to fuck around

you couldn’t be happier that your boyfriend was lucky enough to have a group who actually cared and supported each other

speaking of ateez, yeosang isn’t the most touchy person in the world

you didn’t mind of course, you’re the same way

however, when he did give you cuddles and kisses you would be a blushing mess

a sort of rare sight that yeosang loved to see

anyways, one night you were busy writing those argumentative essays that you were sure that your fingers would fall off by the time you were finished

you were working on it ever since you got home from school (with the occasional food and bathroom breaks )to the time when yeosang came back from practice

you moved to your shared bed by the time the sweaty boy came home and he was surprised that you were working on one subject for so long

the stupid piece was almost finished by the time yeosang was out of the shower

however, you didn’t even notice

you were too immersed in your writing to notice

yeosang took this as an opportunity to sit behind you and wrap his arms around your waist and watch over your shoulder as you worked

and of course, he would kiss your cheek occasionally

this was super sweet gesture but yeosang but you didn’t the notice that he wrapped his arms around you

“ai yah! what the hell?” you yelled and turned around to see your boyfriend clutching his chest

“oh it’s just you.”

yeosang would give you a deadpanned look and be like, “yeah, who else tf???”

you would apologize and kissing his cheek before returning to back to work

which yeosang would return to hugging your waist and keep his head on your shoulder

and give you occasional kisses on your cheek or neck

after that night, it became a weekly occurrence

which you loved of course, who wouldn’t love their bf cuddling them while they chased their bag

san:

i am very excited for this one

ok so, san loves playing with your hair

it’s just so much fun

running his fingers through it or just attempting to braid it or put it into a tiny ponytail

he loved it

he would probably always play with your while you were watching tv together, sitting together in the car, or even before you guys fall asleep

then one day after san came home early from work

you guys were chilling on the bed watching the latest k-drama that came out since san made you wait so you guys could watch it together

san was in between your legs with his back leaning against your chest

and that’s when you decided to run your fingers through his soft, fluffy hair

that’s also when san asked you to braid his hair

“sure, what type of braid though?”

“there’s different kinds????”

“yes, san. now pick one.” you gave him your phone that was pulled up to different types braids.

“i want the french ones. they sound fancy.”

you roll your eyes and start sectioning his hair into two sections and start braiding his hair and lightly pull on the pink strands because you know san likes his hair pulled

so you doing his hair right

and you begin rambling about your day/week

talking about whatever interesting happened to you because you know that san likes hearing you talk no matter what it’s about

however, you were knee deep into talking about the latest drama at work that you didn’t even realize that san stopped talking

“san?”

he didn’t answer and his head would be dipping down so low you were surprised you didn’t fall over

“baby?”

san still wouldn’t respond to you

but this time he just flipped over so his head would be on your stomach as he wrapped your arms around your stomach

“mmmmmmm?”

“nevermind love, just sleep.”

he would respond by burying his head further into your stomach and tightened his hold around you

you kissed his head and ran your fingers through his hair which lulled san to sleep even more

“goodnight sannie.”

mingi:

you have been best friends with song mingi ever since you moved into the tiny neighborhood that you call home

it all started when your parents brought you over to your next door neighbor’s house for breakfast on a cold saturday morning

you were extremely shy when you were little so the only thing you could remember about your first experience with mingi was hiding behind your mother’s leg for the first hour of being there and watching the young boy play with his toy cars and planes before he finally offered a pirate ship to you

ever since that unforgettable saturday, you pretty much spent the rest of your childhood with mingi

you guys were practically joined at the hip

even when you were getting endlessly teased by your classmates for the first month of school for having an accent whenever you spoke

which resulted in you running to the bathroom crying

not even a minute later, you heard someone burst through the girls’ bathrrom

“y/n?”

you peaked your head out of the stall to see your tall neighbor looking out of breath

“mingi, you aren’t supposed to be here!” you said in between sobs

“it’s okay, i don’t care.” he said as he awkwardly wrapped his arms around you. “are you okay?”

you shook your head no looking at him with tears running down your face

the poor boy was internally freaking out since he has no clue on how to comfort people (especially if they’re a girl)

he was like eight at the time give him a little break

so of course, his first reaction was to make you laugh somehow

and he did this by randomly recreating the “boots and cats, boots and cats” rhythm after seeing siri do it in a youtube video and started to bop his head

surprised by his sudden movements, you laughed out of pure confusion

as soon as mingi saw the corner of your lips flip upwards he began rapping faster to the point where he was gasping for breath leading him into a coughing fit

“mingi you can breathe, y’know!” you giggled in between words

after the young boy had caught his breath from hacking away at his lungs, he smiled at you

until- the teacher had came into the bathroom, scolding mingi for going into the girls’ restroom

even though mingi didn’t care at all that he got in trouble, the only thing he cared about was that you were feeling better

ever since then whenever you were sad or having a bad day mingi would whip out his phone and ask siri to rap while he free-styled over the monotone voice

he literally still does it

even two years into your relationship-

“siri, can you rap for me?” mingi would ask his phone as he pointed his free arm at you

“boots and cats-”

“mingi, please no.” you laughed in between tears, your mood rising with every beat

wooyoung:

i wholeheartedly believe that wooyoung would kiss you face if you were sad

but the first time this happened, you guys were still fairly new into your relationship

which meant that you weren’t completely ready to be extremely vulnerable around wooyoung

because in your mind, letting someone see you at your lowest lows of means that you really trust and love someone to let them see you like that

you always wanted to be known as the strong person in the friend group

you were that glue that held everyone together

always listening to others and taking care of others before yourself

which is why wooyoung fell in love with you in the first place

he had never been in a relationship where someone was so caring and thoughtful of others that he was scared that he wouldn’t be enough for you and that you deserved better

of course, he didn’t tell you that right away but he confessed to you about that wayyy later in your relationship which is another story to be told

but one day, life was coming at you so fucking fast

assignments were piling up left and right and deadlines were literally every other day

and then there seemed to be an increase in the amount of angry karens at your work

and your patience was thinning everyday with those people

then to top it all off, all the tests you’ve been studying for, you got mediocre grades, some even worse in other subjects

it just felt like no matter how much work you put into whatever you do, you got half ass results

it was just pushing your mental health further into the ground

you could handle a C every once in awhile but multiple? on back to back tests? no fucking way you just couldn’t

those stupid, dark thoughts would cloud your mind in an instant and on days like this, you would just let them consume you

you were too tired to pick yourself up again and fight back which led to you crying in wooyoung’s arms

usually, you would feel so embarrassed crying over things like this when you know other people have it worse but you couldn’t hold in it anymore

you ranted about yourself in between your hiccups from crying which would hurt wooyoung’s heart a little bit

because he thought of you as such a strong and kind person- the complete opposite of what you were saying about yourself

so when you were done talking, wooyoung made you look at him and assured you that you were not any of those nasty things that you said about yourself

each insult turned into a thoughtful compliment accompanied by a kiss

“y/n, you are so intelligent-”

kiss

“caring-”

kiss

“beautiful-”

kiss

“more than everything i ever wanted”

kiss

by the time wooyoung was done, you were a giggling mess

“and this is why i love you.”

he finally kissed you on your lips, smiling into it like the dork he is

it was the first ever time he told you that he loved you

jongho:

i am also a firm believer that jongho would sing his s/o to sleep

like with that heavenly voice of his, he better put them to sleep

so on the first night you ever slept with jongho, you were too nervous to go to bed even though your body was screaming at you to close your eyes

you kept tossing and turning every few minutes or your eyes would shoot open with your heart racing

at this point, you gave up on trying to sleep and got up (carefully to not wake up your sleeping boyfriend) to get a drink

while you were in the kitchen, clutching your chest in an effort to get yourself to calm down, jongho had stirred awake to an empty bed

a flash of panic surged through his body as he momentarily forgot where he was since he wasn’t at his dorm his room never looked this clean

yawning, the vocalist would wander into the light with his eyes squinted, “y/n?”

“oh my god!” you jumped, water almost spilling out your glass

jongho covered his ears, “what are you doing up?”

“oh,” you felt your cheeks turn red since you felt bad for waking your boyfriend up. “i can’t sleep.”

“why?” he asked, walking towards the couch.

“i don’t know.” you answered as you followed close behind.

you curled up next to jongho, clutching his shirt “i’m sorry for waking you up.”

jongho smiled tiredly at you before kissing your head, “don’t be. it’s okay. i don’t have work tomorrow anyways.”

you smiled in response before the two of you guys fell into a silence

“do you want me to sing you to sleep?”

“yes, please.” you murmured into his side as jongho placed his other arm around you, successfully trapping you in between his arms

he began singing softly into your ear as he stroked your hair

his warm voice coaxing your eyes to close

at last, your mind was at peace with itself

your heart beat slowing down

and by the time the song was finished you were fast asleep in arms

jongho kissed your forehead once more

“i love you.”

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ethanesimp · 3 years

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WHEN YOU’RE GONE // D.D.

Pairing: Mob Boss! Damiano David x Mob GN! Reader (it was originally written with a fem! reader so please let me know if you spot any slip ups on my part)

Summary: Soulmates are already a difficult concept to grasp and things don’t seem to get any easier when you like a person who already has a soulmate.

Word Count: 9.8k (it’s so long lakjd)

Warnings: Swearing, death and mentions of it, injuries, angst -lots of it-, it’s a mob fic so violence, smoking, Damiano being kind of an asshole? Me probably using swear words in italian wrong... Just read with caution pls

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

A/N: If you’ve seen this before, it’s probably because this has been written and posted on my other blog @pparkersbitch as a Tom Holland fanfiction at the beginning of the year (which has now been deleted). It’s the same person and I’m not stealing anyone’s work :) I just like it and wanted to bring it back. I did add/modify some tiny details though. The idea is probably dumb, but I’m sharing anyways.

Taglist: @gretavanfleetlove @superchrystaldrug @reputationdamiano

“This isn’t how I wanted to start my morning,” Your best friend mumbled in a tired voice. You could barely hear him from where you were standing over the sounds the old -and surely broken- coffee machine kept making and the music playing from his phone.

“Well, sucks to be us, huh?” You chuckled and poured coffee on both of your cups as you did a small dance to try and shake the tiredness off your body. You handed Damiano his cup after preparing his coffee the way he liked it, a teaspoon of sugar with a splash of milk, and walked with him to the large office down the hall, “I don’t get why Ethan and Thomas can’t do this instead of us.”

The room was always cold and you seemed to forget about it most of the time since it still slipped your mind to wear a sweater or hoodie over your thin pajama shirt. You grabbed one of the blankets from the small black couch on the corner of the room and wrapped it around your body as best as you could with your free hand.

You sat down on the chair next to him to have a better look at all the papers and files he had spread out on the desk, “What exactly are we looking for?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows. All those documents were enough to keep you occupied for the whole day if you didn’t work fast enough.

“We are looking for any leads to the drug cartel or its leader. Really anything that can help us find them,” Damiano explained and took a sip of his coffee as he opened the first file.

You had been trying to track a drug cartel ever since they infiltrated your warehouse and stole some of your products. Damiano’s father had been at both of your necks ever since it happened as if it had been your fault instead of the incompetent guards that were supposed to be guarding the entrance at all times, “I’m sure these are people we’ve made deals with in the past, they wouldn’t have been able to break in otherwise. We’ve always been far too careful for this to be a mere coincidence.”

He removed the gold ring from his ring finger and left it on the jewelry bowl you had placed on his desk. You had known Damiano David and his family for years. For as long as you had known him, the band on his ring finger had been gold, and you hated it.

That stupid little gold band was a silent reminder that he had met his soulmate and there was nothing to be done about it. For months you had silently hoped and prayed for Damiano to be your soulmate, but any illusion or wish you had of it happening, had vanished the moment you saw the gold ring on his finger for the first time. You later discovered he avoided wearing it on his hand because it put his soulmate at risk of being found, but he still kept it close to him at all times by using it as a necklace.

You avoided wearing yours for an entirely different reason. The black ring and all the stares and words of pity that came with it were saddening and something you didn’t need. While gold was a reminder of love and good luck, black was a reminder that your soulmate was no longer alive and you were doomed to spend the rest of your life alone. You were sure the band had been black for most of your life, or at least that’s how you remembered it.

It was safe to say you were jealous of Damiano’s soulmate, Marlee. Not only was she one of the most beautiful women you had ever met, but she got to have perhaps the most amazing man by her side until her dying day, something you could never have in any way that wasn’t platonic.

You successfully ignored it most days, which wasn’t so hard to do since you had better things to think about most of the time, but nights were always the hardest. In your loud and chaotic life, there was a speck in time where everything quieted and calmed down. During those few hours was when you’d break down and grieve for the person whose name you didn’t even get to know. You’d cry for being stupid enough to fall for someone who wasn’t only your best friend, but who also had a girlfriend.

“Damiano, Y/N?” Marlee’s sweet voice interrupted your train of thoughts. You had been reading the files consciously enough to notice anything unusual, but you had paid no mind to anything else until she walked into the room. You smiled politely at her and waved.

She walked up to Damiano and he immediately closed all files with any sort of photo that might be too graphic for her to look at. Marlee cupped his face and pressed her lips to his for a few moments that felt like an eternity to you, watching everything from the side as a feeling of jealousy invaded your senses. You did nothing but look at the painting on the wall until they stopped locking lips, which took a bit longer than you would’ve liked.

“Did you two find anything?” Marlee asked once she pulled away from Damiano. He gave her a look you knew as ‘I cannot tell you anything about the mob to keep you safe’. She had been involved with the mob’s administration for most of her life, only after she met Damiano and her father united his mob with Damiano’s did she stop working.

You had been brought in as a replacement of sorts once Marlee stopped doing any mob business per Damiano’s request. His parents had saved yours from a legal accident, which left you in debt with his family, so you didn’t have much say on whether you’d join the mob or not.

Something you were grateful for was that Damiano always kept your hands clean. No matter what business it was, he made sure to keep you out of any sort of situation in which you’d have to hurt or get hurt by another member of the mob. Most people that worked for Damiano didn’t have the pleasure of knowing him as the lenient and caring individual he was around you.

You excused yourself after spending a few more minutes flipping through the files in search of something but ultimately found nothing. It was supposed to be your free day, or at least that was what Damiano had promised. Apart from that impromptu search for information at 5 am, he promised he’d have Ethan, Vic, or Thomas help with anything he needed.

That was why you took the liberty to lock yourself inside your room and put your phone on silent. You desperately wanted to catch up on all the hours of sleep you had lost in between those early morning duty calls and coffee runs. No matter how much you enjoyed spending time with Damiano, you still missed your normal sleep schedule.

When you woke up a few hours later, the house was completely silent. The usual chatter coming from the kitchen wasn’t there, neither was the noise of Vic repeatedly firing bullets at the targets in the garden to practice her aim like she did every morning or the soft sound of Thomas softly strumming his guitar as he tried to piece an unplanned melody together with the assistance of Ethan’s drumming.

It wasn’t a Sunday, which meant they weren’t away visiting their families. They were all supposed to be home. That last thought made you nervous and you couldn’t help but wonder if something had happened while you were asleep. Being in the mob, you knew a lot of unexpected things happened all the time and you had to be prepared for them all.

You walked to the door, determined to investigate what was wrong. Your hand was already firmly grasping the doorknob and you were about to undo the lock when someone knocked harshly on the door, startling you.

Without hesitation, you jumped back and reached for the gun stuffed in one of the drawers nearby, “Y/N? You awake?”

You let go of the drawer’s handle and your tense body relaxed at the sound of Victoria’s raspy voice, “Fuck, Vic, you scared me,” You spoke as you opened the door to be met with her panicked blue eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed at her worried expression, but before you could ask, she grabbed you by the arm softly and dragged you out of the room.

Once you were in the hallway, you finally heard everything with a lot more clarity. The faint sound of glass clinking before falling to the floor, Thomas’s exasperated shouts, and Damiano’s complaints. You looked at Victoria, expecting an explanation.

“I don’t know what happened,” She began, “One second he was alright, then at like 9 AM Ethan and I heard them fighting. She’s gone and Damiano’s locked in his room, won’t let anyone in. Thomas is trying to get him to talk while Ethan looks for the keys.”

You walked past Victoria and ran up the stairs. Damiano’s room was right above yours. Upon walking up to the third floor of the house, you saw Thomas repeatedly knocking on Damiano’s door. Once he heard footsteps and spotted you, it was like relief washed all over him at the sight of you.

“Do you mind trying?” He asked, “He’s been asking for you,” Thomas added with a sigh as he brushed his messy hair out of his forehead. You nodded and got closer to the door once he got out of the way.

With hesitation, you knocked on the door and patiently waited for a response, which arrived only after you knocked once again, “Vaffanculo, Thomas! Which part of your tiny fucking brain cannot understand that I want to be left alone?”

You flinched at his words and took a long breath as you gathered the confidence to speak up, “I-It’s Y/N, Dami,” You said, loud enough for him to hear you from where he was. You were expecting rejection; if Damiano didn’t want to talk to people who were as close to him as siblings, why would he talk to you? Sure, you were one of his best friends, but he’d known Thomas for longer than he—

Your thoughts were interrupted when Damiano opened the door and quickly dragged you in before slamming it shut once more. For the first few minutes, you stood in silence while Damiano faced the door. You couldn’t see his face or his eyes, so you had no idea what could be going through his mind, so you focused on your surroundings instead.

The room was a mess, but not more than it usually was. What alarmed you was the shattered glass on the floor as well as the drops of blood that stained the white floor. You looked back at your best friend and noticed that it was dripping from his hand.

“Damiano,” You called, “Amore, your hand,” He turned to look at you and that’s when you finally saw his red and swollen eyes as well his tear-stained cheeks. His gaze softened once his eyes fell on yours. He choked back a sob and turned away from you once again.

If his hand hadn’t been bleeding, you wouldn’t have hesitated on wrapping your arms around his neck and trying to comfort him. Instead, you ran to his bathroom to grab the first-aid kit. After years of being in the business, treating Damiano’s cuts and injuries wasn’t anything new to you, but you were oblivious as to why he was in such a state in the first place.

Being the person he was, Damiano had learned to conceal his emotions incredibly well to protect himself, even around the people he trusted the most. You had only seen him that shaken once when something had gone terribly wrong. The fact that Marlee was gone too only gave you a worse feeling. The fact that her clothes were all gone from the closet didn’t ease your worried mind either.

Damiano was sitting on the bed patiently waiting for you to return. Once you did, he avoided your gaze and said nothing as you examined his hand. The cuts were all superficial and would surely cure on their own in a few days, which was why you only focused on removing the tiny shards of glass that had stuck to his skin with a pair of tweezers.

Once that was done and you had cleaned the cuts, you wrapped a bandage around his hand once and secured it with a small piece of tape. You sat in silence for a while, you didn’t comment on the sobs that would escape his lips every once in a while or the tears that had started falling down his cheeks.

Instead, you waited until he was ready to say something, “I don’t even know how to tell you this,” Damiano mumbled. His eyes stayed glued to the floor. He seemed… embarrassed to look you in the eye.

“I was finally going to do it this morning, N/N,” He said as a sigh escaped past his lips and he took a small velvet box out of his pocket. He didn’t have to say what was inside the box because you knew exactly what it was. Damiano had been planning on proposing for months, but there was always something that managed to get in the way of completing his goal.

“She went to the bathroom and had left her phone on my bedside table. I was going to get the ring and Y/N… I-I swear to God I didn’t want to look but the messages kept coming, one after the other, the fucking phone wouldn’t stop making noise. Cazzo, she was the one feeding information to the drug cartel and Lord knows to who else,” He said those words in one breath and you had barely been able to catch them all. Damiano threw the box at the wall angrily and from the noise, you didn’t doubt there’d be an indent there.

“I asked her about it and you have no idea how much I wished she’d deny it, but she didn’t even try,” Damiano cried. Unexpectedly, Damiano turned his body around to face yours and wrapped his arms around your waist while he buried his face on your neck.

It took you by surprise, but you said nothing. Instead, you focused on rubbing circles on his back and whispering soothing words into his ear. Part of you knew there was something else going on, even if you didn’t ask. You hadn’t seen Damiano cry in a long time and even then you saw nothing more than just a few tears rolling down his cheeks. What happened with Marlee had truly driven him right to the edge and he couldn’t keep in everything he had been trying so hard to hide.

In the four months that followed, you didn’t see Marlee once. She never had the guts to return after Damiano found out about everything she had been doing behind his back. At first, he had been utterly destroyed by her absence, it pained you to see him shut everything and everyone out with the lame excuse that he had work to do. Every single time he did so, you’d quietly sit down and help him despite his complaints.

He got better though. Once enough time passed, he healed, but all that love he had once felt for her was now nothing more than pure hatred every single time her name was mentioned. You knew better than anyone that it wasn’t the healthiest thing to do, but it didn’t matter how many times you told him so because it never truly changed much.

As for the mob, things seemed to calm down once Damiano and Ethan were able to track down the leader of the drug cartel and get the stolen products back. Everything was too good and too quiet. While your four friends enjoyed all that peace, you couldn’t help but worry about something being wrong. It was a silly thing anyway, there was nothing that gave you even the slightest confirmation that your worry wasn’t just fueled by paranoia, not a single thing.

You should’ve been grateful instead. Your sleep schedule had gotten acceptably regular and there was no more working from 5 am to 10 pm every single day. You also had time to finally sit down and read the books that had been sitting on your untouched shelf ever since the start of the year, just like you were doing at that very moment while the boys were playing poker in the basement and Vic was on a date.

Damiano walked into your room eventually, still smelling like the cigarette he had just been smoking minutes back. He couldn’t help but scrunch up his nose as the smell of lemon incense burning hit his nostrils.

You looked up and giggled at his disgusted expression, “You cannot be disgusted when you were the one who walked into my room smelling like cigar and beer,” Damiano rolled his eyes and plopped down on the bed next to you.

“Incense is bad for you,” You shot Damiano a killer look and closed your book. He gave you a funny look back and then put his attention on your book, “What are you reading anyway?”

You hummed and showed him the cover. It had a beautiful yet simple design, which accurately represented the story hidden in between those pages, “Okay so, it’s the story of these people that all get invited to this island. They’re all summoned there for different reasons but it turns out they all have this common enemy. It’s terrifying because they get killed off one by one when a children’s lullaby plays. I truly cannot explain it enough to do justice to how intense this book is.”

“Oh and before that I got to read the most wonderful romance book! It was apparently the first book written where soulmates weren’t a thing and it was just a piece of art. Beautifully written, made me cry for hours too.”

Damiano smiled and you could almost see all the gears turning inside his brain, “Wouldn’t it be amazing?”

“What would?”

He shrugged and propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look at you, “A world without soulmates, where you’re not bound to someone since birth.”

You sighed and turned to look at him, “It’s our own fault… being bound, I mean. No angel from the heavens came down to tell us we have to love our soulmate as anything more than a close friend, you know? It can be purely platonic, we’re just stupid.”

“Were you ever able to fall in love with your soulmate or was it just platonic?” Damiano asked. You never talked much about soulmates with him. He still didn’t know your soulmate had been dead for as long as you could remember.

“I never got to know them,” You smiled sadly and showed him the black ring you had gotten used to wearing around your neck, carefully tucked under your shirt to stay unseen. His mouth fell open as he grabbed the ring and inspected it closely. It was the first time he had seen a black ring.

“I didn’t know… I’m sorry,” Damiano let the ring go. You shrugged and waved your hand to silently show it wasn’t too important, “I thought you guys were separated or something.”

You shook your head, “Mom says the ring turned black when I was six, but I don’t really remember so I just like to pretend I never had one in the first place… I don’t know.”

There was a question on the tip of your tongue, but you didn’t want to ask it, as intrigued as you were to know the answer. You hadn’t talked about her ever since she left and he’d most likely avoid the question because he truly wanted to keep her name out of his mouth. Nonetheless, he noticed your hesitance because you suddenly got too silent.

“You can ask, you know? I know I just touched on a sensitive topic, so…” You nodded. Both of you were lying on your backs, looking up at the ceiling which had some of those glow-in-the-dark stars and planets you had glued when you first moved in to feel less lonely.

You hummed softly as you tried to find the right words. You didn’t want to be too straightforward with your question in fear of upsetting your best friend even though he had asked you the same question minutes earlier, “Did-did you ever… you know, fall in love with her?”

Damiano thought about it in silence, you had probably caught him off-guard with your question, “No, not really. Not in the way I was expecting at least. You know truth be told, I was a bit disappointed. Don’t get me wrong, she had this angelic look to her, she was a stunning girl. I just- there was nothing we had in common other than being soulmates. For years I had seen my parents act like they shared one mind and just thought the same things. I always imagined it’d be like that for me too.

“My expectations couldn’t have been further from what it truly was like. Honestly, I’m not even sure which part of our relationship was true anymore. Now that I look back on it, I’ve realized most of the things she did or said were just to get information out of me.”

It was weird to hear him say all that. As a person who always got to look at the way Marlee and Damiano interacted with one another, you would’ve never expected Damiano to feel that way, “And,” He continued, “I was expecting it to be someone else.”

His last confession made you turn around to look at him. It was the first time he had admitted that, probably because of the beer he had been drinking while playing with his friends.

“I know it sounds terrible but… I met her and this other person on the same day, almost at the same time. I didn’t notice my ring had turned gold until much later. I had only been with them both and people I already knew. I thought it had been the other person until she told me her ring had changed too. Meanwhile, the other one said nothing. Now I realize it would’ve been impossible for them to be my soulmate.”

It might’ve been because he was telling you all those things and you felt safe to admit what you felt, or maybe because you were tired of bottling it up for so long. Either way, you spoke up, not caring if you’d regret it later, “It’s not as terrible as you might think.”

“Look, I’m not bound to anyone. The black ring gives me the freedom of loving someone else. I never met my soulmate so there’s no guilt in being with someone else. It’s supposed to be a perfect thing, Dami, only it isn’t. I know a lot of people who’re also blacksouled,” You hated using the word. It was usually how people would refer to those who didn’t have a soulmate anymore, “And I fell in love.”

“T-that’s great!” Damiano replied, “Why didn’t you tell me? I mean, not like you’re obliged to tell me anything just because we’re friends but I-”

You interrupted his rant, “I fell in love with someone whose soulmate’s still alive.”

“So what? You said it yourself. Are they together?” He asked. You told him they weren’t. If only he knew you were talking about him… He’d probably run away and never speak to you again, “Then fuck it. Fuck the rules and everything else society has to say.”

“It’s not that simple, Dami. I truly wish it was, but it isn’t,” You wanted nothing more than for the conversation to be over. If it went any further, you knew you’d spill every single thing. It had gotten far too hard to conceal your feelings when you were close to him. Now that you were talking about them, it’d be even harder.

You got up and walked to your bookshelf, where you started accommodating your books as an excuse to avoid being so close to him, to avoid his curious gaze. Even if they weren’t together anymore, you knew Damiano would reject you, that was far too obvious. Even if he felt the same, after what happened, it’d take Damiano a lot of effort to ever trust someone in such an intimate way, even if that someone was you, his best friend.

“Why? It is that simple. If they’re not together, what’s stopping you? You’ll never know what could happen if you don’t try,” You turned around to look at him, fists clenched by your sides, “Listen Y/N, I know you’re scared of relationships and everything they involve but you cannot let that sto—”

“Fine then, I’m in love with you! I can barely breathe when I’m around you because my love for you is so suffocatingly strong, and I can’t think straight either! You and your stupidly handsome face drive me insane. How’s that?” You admitted, interrupting his small speech midway, too irritated to process what you had just said. Once you did, your hand flew to your mouth and you shook your head. You wanted to say it wasn’t true, no, it was nothing more than a lie to get him to stop poking his nose into your love life. Except it wasn’t and, if you were being honest, no part of you wanted to hide it anymore.

Just like you expected, he said nothing. Damiano stayed silent for a few seconds before getting up and walking out without another word. He slammed the door on the way out so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if the door separated from its hinges.

For the weeks that followed, Damiano avoided you as much as possible. You were still his right-hand person and needed to be present at every meeting and would have to discuss any type of business with him. It used to be your favorite part of the day when you got to sit in the meeting room with Damiano and discuss plans to make the mob prosper, now it was nothing but uncomfortable because you’d do all the talking while he looked at you as if his biggest desire was to carve your heart out with his pocket knife.

While you understood that he was still mad at Marlee and wanted nothing to do with her, you didn’t understand why he was treating you that way when you had nothing to do with it and weren’t to blame for the stupid shit his ex had tried to pull. You thought he knew that you loved him far too much to ever do anything to jeopardize his safety. Yet again, he might’ve assumed the same thing about Marlee.

You walked out of yet another unsuccessful meeting with Damiano and slammed the door as hard as you could to let him know how much his childish behavior annoyed you. Ethan was standing close to the door and you could see the shadow of a smile that was threatening to break out and illuminate his face, “Don’t you dare,” He raised his hands in defense and bit his lip to try and hide the smile that would just annoy you further.

“You two are starting to act like two teenagers and it’s fucking pathetic,” Thomas chimed in from where he was sitting on one of the couches.

“Yeah? Tell that to your friend who is giving me the silent treatment like a fucking toddler! I just want- I need to have a serious conversation with him,” You admitted and sighed as you fell on the couch right next to Thomas, head in your hands to try and cover up the tears that were threatening to spill down your cheeks.

Both men stayed silent as they watched you, Even though you could feel their stares, you decided to focus on not crying instead. The truth was, the longer Damiano spent ignoring you, the more you regretted telling him what you had been bottling up for years, it had been a mistake there was no coming back from. Unless he decided to stop acting like a kindergartener, things would never go back to the way they were.

It was frustrating to think that your friendship would go to shit just because of your confession. Being rejected by him wouldn’t have been a big deal if he had actually stayed in your room and spoken like the adult he was.

“For the record, I think he’s acting like an idiot because he’s scared,” Sighed Victoria, who had just walked into the room with an ice pack placed over her hand, “I know it’s been a while but, give him time. He’ll come around or I’ll make him, I promise.”

You gave Victoria a tight-lipped smile and nodded. You hoped more than anything that it wouldn’t have to come to getting locked up in the same room as Damiano to get him to speak to you.

Except… as more days passed, you feared it would most likely have to be that way because he was still saying nothing to you. He had only spoken once and it had been to call you out for being doing everything wrong while looking through some important documents when you were, in fact, doing everything just like he had initially requested. Now, not only had he been giving you the cold shoulder, but he had started acting like a complete jerk around you too.

You tried to distract yourself by focusing on all the work you had pending, but it wasn’t working. Every single day, no matter what you were doing, your mind still wandered back to the brown-eyed man and his stupid face, his stupid hair, and stupid smile.

Even as you stood in the middle of the kitchen, your thoughts made it difficult to bake the cookies you had been craving all week. You had started to work on the second batch after the first one came out disgustingly salty because somewhere along the process you had mistaken the salt for the sugar.

You hated how bothered you were by the whole situation. It had affected you way more than you would’ve liked to admit. Truth be told, you had never felt sad about his rejection because it was something you had expected ever since that attraction for him first settled on your brain. It was the way he was treating you that got on your nerves.

That was mainly the reason why you were so thankful for being alone in the house at that very moment. Apart from a few security guards here and there, you were completely alone. You allowed yourself to relax for a split second and connected your phone to the speaker system in the kitchen. You started playing one of your favorite playlists before getting back to making cookies the right way this time.

You softly swayed your body along to the music as you dumped all the ingredients on the large bowl in front of you. As you poured the flour in the bowl and mixed it with your hands, you noticed Damiano standing by the door. For some unknown reason, he scared you so bad you accidentally tipped the bowl and made a mess of the counter.

A frustrated sigh escaped past your lips and you threw your head back, feeling defeated and irritated, “I’m sorry,” Damiano spoke up hesitantly, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head and wiped your hands on the apron you had tied around your waist, “It’s fine,” You turned around so your back was to him and started wiping the counter with a damp towel.

“You deserve so much better…” You heard him speak up over the music. His words caught you by surprise. You turned around to look at him but said nothing. You could tell he was nervous by the way his hands trembled by his sides and the way his jaw was firmly clenched.

After a few minutes of hesitation, Damiano started walking to where you were. He placed his hands on the counter by your sides, leaving you trapped in between the counter and his body. You looked into his dark eyes to maybe try and guess what was going through his mind.

You breathed in so deeply your chest hit his. You gulped at that and tried to control your trembling hands without looking away.

“What you said the other day, did you mean it?” Damiano asked, without hesitation this time around. Your eyes widened.

“I-I… What?”

“Just answer me Y/N, please,” Damiano pleaded. He looked so desperate to know the answer, which only made your blood boil. After weeks of silence, of glares and being a jerk, he dared to just show up and demand answers?

You shook your head and pointed your finger at his chest, “How dare you?” You took a step towards him, which made Damiano take a step back, “You have no right to show up like this and ask me to give you answers after how much of an asshole you’ve been.”

He seemed taken aback by your truthful words, but you didn’t care. If he wanted to know how much truth had been behind your words that night, he’d have to hear it all, “You know I’m your best friend and you also know I’d keep up with anything you do because that’s how much I care about you, but can you stop it? I know I was stupid for telling you because of what you just went through and I’m sorry, but please don’t keep giving me the cold shoulder. I just want to fix this.”

After a few minutes of silence, you shrugged and, like it was the simplest thing in the world, spoke up, “And yeah, I meant every word.”

Your expression softened as you waited for any sort of reaction from Damiano. You expected something similar to what had happened the day you first told him. No part of you expected him to cup your face with his warm, calloused palms to bring your face closer to him once again.

Neither did you expect to feel his soft lips pressed against yours, or the feeling of his soft hair as you brushed it back with your fingers and your eyes slowly closing as you basked on the joy and pleasure his soft touches caused.

Damiano was gentle as he held your face in between his hands, almost as if you were made of glass and he was afraid of breaking you into pieces if he didn’t hold you delicately enough. That kiss felt so intimate, like nothing you had ever felt before. Everything from the way he held you to his slow movements and touches was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined.

When he pulled away, he left you completely breathless, wordless. There was nothing you could possibly say after the way he had kissed you, so you waited for him to find the right words instead.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Damiano mumbled. He still hadn’t let go of your face, “You truly deserve better. You are so beautiful, so perfect. I’m so sorry for being such an idiot and hurting you, ignoring you. I just- I know I cannot love you as you deserve. Believe me, I want nothing more than to have you close to me all the time, to kiss your lips until you grow sick of me, but I can’t,” His voice was starting to crack as he said those words to you and you knew it was because of how he saw your face fall.

“No, no, shut up and listen to me,” You pleaded and placed your hands on top of his. You gave them a soft squeeze and let your forehead rest against his, “I know it’s hard for you to trust after what happened with her and I know it’s not going to be easy, but believe me, I’m willing to try if you are, Damiano.”

“You were that other person,” He confessed and got closer to kiss you once more, with as much passion as the last time. You were too concentrated on the smell of his musky cologne and the faint taste of vanilla chapstick he had surely stolen from your room to respond to his comment.

His hands fell from your face and comfortably rested on your hips as his lips attacked yours. Damiano pushed you against the counter and kept savoring the moment as if it were the first and last time he’d kiss you like that. You hoped for your sake it wouldn’t be the last.

Damiano pulled away reluctantly and unexpectedly lifted you up so you’d sit on the counter. He stood in between your legs and intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Remember when I told you about the person I met the day I met Marlee?” You nodded, “That was you... Ever since I met you I’ve felt this inexplicable attraction towards you and it’s been driving me insane. I couldn’t believe it when you told me you loved me because I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

“You’ve done so much to deserve it, so so much,” You mumbled and brought him close to you to kiss him for the third time. It was such an addicting feeling and both your heart and mind were screaming to feel it again.

That time around, Damiano didn’t hesitate to lift you up once more, he carried you to his room and locked the door.

—

It had been a few weeks since your conversation in the kitchen. Things returned back to normal after that night. Other than your relationship with Damiano, things were the same again. You had to go back to working at ungodly hours of the morning thanks to some suspicious activity Ethan had noticed. Apparently, one of the oldest members of Damiano’s mob had tried to establish a deal with an unknown subject but had been caught before he could accomplish it.

This put you both on edge because there was someone out there desperate to break into the mob and finish it for good. At first, you thought it wasn’t more serious than whatever had happened with Marlee, but Damiano’s father proved you wrong the moment he brought you, their most loyal employee, in for questioning.

It had been nothing too serious, at least not in comparison to what you had heard others say. In your case, it had been done mostly as a standardized protocol, to stop others from thinking there was some sort of preference or special treatment towards you just because you worked so close to Damiano. You knew almost everything Damiano did, so you were possibly the greatest source of information outside the David family and their small circle of friends.

“Amore?” Damiano asked softly as his hand caressed the exposed skin of your waist. You had been cuddling in bed for almost two hours with the excuse that you needed a break after all the hard work you’d done, “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You turned around to be face to face with him and pressed a kiss to his freckled nose, “Not much. I was just remembering I need to get my ring resized again. I tried putting it on a few days ago and it didn’t fit anymore.

Damiano frowned at your words, “Your soulmate ring?”

“Mhm,” You responded simply and let your head rest on his chest. You enjoyed the feeling of warmth his body irradiated, it was soothing and the soft sound of his rhythmic heartbeat never failed to make you feel calmer.

“Soulmate rings don’t need to be resized, ever. Not that I know of, at least,” Now it was your turn to frown because, as far as you remembered, you had always gone to get your ring resized by a family friend who didn’t live too far away. No one had ever told you it wasn’t necessary.

You pulled away from his embrace and reached for the bedside table where you had been keeping the ring for the past few days. Once you turned back around, Damiano looked confused and almost scared, “Just, out of curiosity, tesoro. Have you ever taken off the ring and left it like far away for longer than a few hours?”

A giggle escaped past your lips at his silly question, “It’s just a piece of jewelry, Dami. Of course, I have, several times.”

You laughed nervously once you saw his horrified expression. Damiano was starting to scare you, but you knew better than to say something because you’d end up looking like a fool if he started laughing and told you it was all a joke. Except, it didn’t seem like one.

“Please get dressed and meet me in room five, okay? I might be going insane but I just need to make sure I’m not,” Before you could ask any questions, Damiano had already grabbed a pair of pants and a t-shirt and disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed.

You tried not to think much about his weird questions and got dressed quickly instead. You grabbed your cup of tea, which had already gone cold, and walked to meeting room five.

You opened the door and were surprised to see all your friends already sitting around the small table you’d use for informal meetings. Thomas and Victoria looked tired and Ethan’s long hair was tangled and messy. That gave you the impression that Damiano had most likely woken them all up for your impromptu meeting.

They all looked just as confused as you felt. There were a lot of questions you wanted to ask, but Ethan beat you to it, “Okay, now that we’re all here can you fucking explain why you had to wake me up? Please.”

“Have any of you three—,” Started Damiano, referring to Thomas, Victoria and Ethan, “—tried to take off your ring for a while but have started feeling sick and weird?”

Thomas and Victoria looked at each other, confused, but nodded. Ethan did after a few seconds of thinking about it, “Yeah, there was actually this one time I went on a date and I didn’t want the girl to see the ring had turned gold, so I left it at home. Thirty minutes later I was puking everywhere. I didn’t really understand why but someone at the Soulmate Centre explained rings are an extension of the soul and they need to be close to us at all times and there are actually records of people dying after losing their rings. Why?”

Damiano looked at you and raised his eyebrows to silently ask if he could share the information with the other three guys. Once you nodded, Damiano spoke up, “Y/N doesn’t need to have it close to them and they need to get it resized every once in a while.”

Ethan shrugged his shoulders, “That’s as far as my knowledge goes. I don’t know. I think the best thing you can do is go to the SC.”

You sighed but nodded. Ethan’s explanation had started to freak you out. What if there was something terribly wrong with you? What if you were born without a ring and your parents lied to you all your life?

—

After having a short conversation with Damiano in private, you decided to follow Ethan’s advice and go to the Soulmate Centre that was only a few minutes away from your house. He wanted to go with you or send someone to watch over you but had accepted your petition to go alone after you told him it was a private matter and you'd tell him all about it once you got back.

So there you were, on the reception of the SC, with your sweaty hands intertwined together as you tried to ignore all the dirty looks people were giving you. Everyone around knew exactly who you were and most weren't one bit pleased to see you there. While some didn't hesitate to look at you like they wanted to kill you, others were afraid to do so.

Those few minutes that passed until the lady at the desk called your name were some of the most uncomfortable of your life. Some part of you hated having the mobster title because that usually gave people the wrong idea and drove them to hate you even if you could proudly say you had done nothing illegal or violent in your whole life. You had to admit the mob wasn’t an ideal job to have morally wise, but you had found a family inside those four walls others doomed to be cursed.

You walked up to the lady. She had what you could interpret as a nervous smile as she stood behind the desk, patiently waiting for you to tell her what had brought you there in the first place. You were hesitant to communicate your issue because you were mortified of finding out a truth that should probably stay hidden.

You reached back and unclasped the chain the ring was looped through. You left it on the counter and smiled softly as you shyly spoke, “So uh, good morning, ma’am. I was hoping you could take a look at my ring, I’m slightly concerned there was something wrong with it.”

The lady nodded and removed the ring from the chain. She inspected it closely for a few minutes before nodding her head towards one of the rooms that said ‘only employees allowed’. She started walking towards it with a quick step and you saw no other choice but to follow right behind her.

She opened the door and quickly closed it with a lock once she verified you were inside, “Listen, the only reason I’m not turning you over to the authorities is because you don’t strike me as someone stupid enough to walk into an SC with a soulmate ring like this.”

Your jaw dropped in surprise at how direct she was being. For a second, you noticed her face fall before she realized it was best to keep a face that communicated seriousness instead of begging for your forgiveness or whatever people did when they pissed Damiano off.

“I don’t know who gave this to you or in which illegal market you bought this but if a higher authority sees you with this, not even Damiano David could save you from the consequences of sporting a fake ring,” She said. You honestly didn’t know how to respond because panic had started to drown out any coherent thought that tried to form on your mind.

You didn’t even try to disguise your panicked expression that time around. Instead, you focused on regulating your breathing and trying to keep all your emotions at bay before you lost control and began to hyperventilate. The other woman noticed your distress almost immediately and led you to sit down on one of the couches.

After you took a few deep breaths, you looked back at her, eager to ask thousands of questions, “How can you know they are fake?”

She sat down next to you and put the ring on your palm, “Look at the inside,” She demanded while pointing her finger to a spot on the inside edge of the ring, “They usually have something engraved inside, a code that only repeats itself twice. Whenever one loses their soulmate, this code vanishes. Your code is still there. I also used a detector to confirm my suspicions and it detected nothing.”

“And with… with that code, can you tell me if my soulmate’s still alive? Or who they are?” The older lady looked at you with pity in her green eyes and shook her head.

“Unless this is the original code engraved on the real ring, there’s not much I can do for you other than telling you how your soulmate is. I need so much more information to ever give you a name,” You nodded in understanding. All you needed to know was if they were alive, that’s all you wanted.

She took your nod as a sign of approval and disappeared into another room. While you waited, you couldn’t help but secretly hope they were dead. You wanted all those weeks of bliss you had spent with Damiano to last a lifetime. He knew everything about you, from the number of scars scattered around your body to what book you had read the most times. No soulmate could learn that about you until years after meeting each other. Besides, it wouldn’t feel right. The Gods had already been too cruel for not making him your soulmate, but now that he wasn’t with Marlee and you knew he loved you just as much as you loved him…

She walked out of the room and cleared her throat to catch your attention. You were thankful for her interruption because you were mere seconds away from bursting into tears of distress. She looked nervous to tell you what she had found out, but the way you looked at her made her spill the truth without any warning.

“Your soulmate is still somewhere out there, alive.”

—

Damiano clutched his side with his hands as every type of curse word spilled from his mouth, “Thomas! Dammit Thomas, where the fuck are you?” He screamed and pushed the ache in his throat and side to the back of his mind as he limped towards the table where his loaded gun was placed, ready to be grabbed and shot.

Things had been perfectly fine just ten minutes back. He had been drinking and playing pool with the boys in the basement. They were all laughing and messing around when Victoria heard the first gunshot. Thomas had been quick to dismiss it as one of the guards practicing his accuracy like they did every once in a while, so they went back to playing the game.

Then they heard it again and again and again. In that time it took the four men to walk up the stairs, people had already successfully broken into the house and they were shooting at anything that moved. The blood-red snake symbol all these people had on the masks that were covering their faces was one he had grown far too familiar with. These were the people Marlee had been conspiring with and they had managed to overthrow every single line of defense in between them and the front door.

Damiano had been in his room fetching a gun when a smoke bomb was thrown into the room. It had stopped him from seeing the person who shot him. Thankfully enough, their vision wasn’t much better either, because the bullet only grazed his side. It was still painful as hell and blood was pouring out of the wound, but it wasn’t going to be anything deadly.

He finally got ahold of his gun after minutes of feeling around the table to try and spot it with the low amount of vision he still had. Once Damiano had it in his hands, he raised the scarf he was wearing to cover the lower part of his face to try and lower the quantity of smoke he inhaled.

He walked out of his room and into the hallway, still holding the gun firmly ready to shoot it at the first person he saw with that red symbol. Damiano opened the door to every room on the third floor. He had to shoot at one or two people before walking down to the floor below. The first room he opened was yours. His eyes went wide as he remembered you were still supposed to be at the SC. Damiano cursed under his breath. He needed to warn you not to come back but to go to your parents’ instead. Damiano opened the tracking app first, a precaution he had been insistent on taking just to make sure you both knew the other was safe.

“Fucking hell,” Damiano mumbled as he saw that blue dot with your name above it was right on the same spot as his. You were back home.

Every thought of investigating each and every room to make sure there was no intruder flew out the window and instead he focused on trying to find you. Everything had turned chaotic on those few minutes he had been in your room, which was why it had gotten harder to get around without finding someone waiting on almost every corner for him to appear.

Damiano heard a piercing scream that made his blood go cold. You were in danger somewhere inside the large home and he desperately needed to get to you, to make sure you were safe from any danger. He knew his friends would be perfectly fine, they had their guns and several types of weaponry close-by, but he knew you didn’t. You always refused to take a gun or dagger with you whenever you went out and if they had caught you right when you had just gotten back… you’d most likely have nothing to defend yourself with.

There was no doubt in his mind that you were witty and incredibly smart, not to mention agile and great at coming up with plans on the spot, but he still needed to make sure you were alright.

He got down on the first floor and his eyes met with a pair of blue ones he knew far too well. He let his eyes trail down to her carmine-tinted shirt. Marlee smiled at him and trailed her thumb along her jawline. That’s when he noticed her hands were also red and she had also left a trail of bloody footsteps from his office to where she was standing. His office.

Damiano didn’t hesitate to point the gun at her leg and pull the trigger. He then aimed for her other leg and shot it. She fell to the floor as an agonizing scream fell from her parted lips. Damiano was satisfied now that her stupid smile had been wiped right off her face.

He quickly ran to the office and opened the door. What he saw inside made time stop. It made all those sounds go silent. It made him feel like there was no floor beneath him to stand on. You were lying on the floor, a dagger piercing your chest.

You looked panicked, sad, like you wanted to do nothing but scream and cry, which you had started doing the moment you saw Damiano walked into the room. He didn’t know if your reaction was out of relief or if there was something else that concerned you, apart from the obvious.

“Damiano,” You spoke up weakly, The sound of your raspy voice was like a slap back into reality. He didn’t waste a second to fall to his knees right by your side. Damiano cupped your face with his trembling hands and brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“Shh. I’m here amore, I’m here,” He responded voice barely above a whisper, “I just need to find something to press against this wound I— something…” He stood up, ready to look for a rag, bandages, anything to stop the blood from rushing out of your body so quickly, but you stopped him.

You wrapped your hand around his arm and with all the strength you had brought him back down, “No hey, stop,” You mumbled, “Unless she happened to study every major artery, vein or has awfully perfect aim, I’ll be dead in minutes.”

He shook his head and wiped the tears that were starting to fall with the back of his hand. He was not giving up. Damiano was not going to let you die, “Wait, no, no. I can do this,” Damiano took his sweater and scarf off. With the help of his scarf, he applied pressure to the wound, careful not to move or dig the dagger further with his movements.

You shook your head and Damiano couldn’t help but cry harder at the desperation and panic in your eyes, “Please, Dami. Stop it, there’s no use. I-I just want you to hold me, please.”

He wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand and nodded repeatedly as he careful cradled you in his arms and moved your head to rest on his lap, “Everything’s going to be okay,” Damiano mumbled and left a long kiss on your forehead, then another one on your cheek and a last one on your lips.

You cupped his face with one of your hands and wiped the tears with your thumb. There wasn’t much left to say, not like you’d be able to talk even if you tried. Instead, you offered him one last sincere smile with all the energy you had left.

He watched in horror as life slowly started to drain out of you as his ring simultaneously turned black. Damiano sat there for minutes after you were gone. He cried and let every frustration, confusion, and pain escape his body with a loud scream.

Damiano didn’t let go of your body until Victoria and Thomas had to forcefully pull him away and let someone else take care of you.

—

Ethan didn’t walk into the room until he made sure every single intruder had been killed, except for Marlee, because Damiano had asked to keep her alive. When he did walk in, all he saw was Damiano with a folder in his hand and multiple pieces of paper scattered around the desk in his room. He looked pale, mortified by everything he was reading. The long-haired man didn’t understand what had gotten his friend in such a state of shock until he walked closer and looked at what seemed to be a contract.

You were Damiano’s soulmate. All your lives you had been tricked into believing you weren’t meant for each other. Your parents had made you believe you had no soulmate and Damiano had been fooled into thinking Marlee was his. You had gotten right to the bottom of it all and the secret would’ve gone to the grave with you if you hadn’t left the papers lying on his desk and if he had left his ring on the pocket of his jeans like he usually would. But now it was far too late to do anything about it.

#damiano david x reader #damiano david x y/n #damiano david x you #damiano david fanfiction #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction

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lunarliza · 4 years

Text

JJ Maybank Must Die | Chapter 3: Fanny Packs

fuckboy!JJ x Reader

series masterlist | prev. chapter | chapter one

JJ Maybank is the island’s most infamous fuckboy- not that you ever cared. But when a group of tourist girls come to your surf shop crying to you about him, you agree to help them plot revenge. Sabotage is all fun and games, until you find that the playboy you were sworn to ruin happens to be falling head over heels for you.

Yes, this is based on John Tucker Must Die lol

For once, you finally felt like everything in life was falling into place.

Sophia dropped off your Venus Panic ticket last night, you booked a ferry to the city for September, you just earned another ‘employee of the month’ title which basically meant you were a shoo-in for the scholarship, and you noticed in the mirror that your ass was looking just a tad bigger.

You were sorting out the application clipboards one afternoon when you heard the ding of the front door opening. In came a cocky head of blonde hair looking as smug as ever. You dropped the stack on sight.

How did he know where you worked? Was he stalking you? Should you file a restraining order?

“Uh, can I help you?”

“So, this is where you’ve been hiding all this time, huh?” JJ crossed his large arms and surveyed the tiny shop.

“Yeah... how the fuck did you find me?” You bent down to hastily pick up the mess. After the incident at the Boneyard on Saturday, you weren’t expecting to run into him again for the rest of the summer. You didn’t think he’d be this relentless.

He casually shrugged. “Eh, I just asked around town for a y/n and they told me you worked here. Still amazes me how I haven’t seen you around.”

You rolled your eyes. As if you and JJ didn’t have English together just this past semester. Nevermind living on the same island for how many years.

“Anyways,” he continued, I came here to sign up for surfing lessons.”

You flinched your nose. “You’re telling me you’ve lived here all your life and you don’t know how to surf?”

This was coming from the boy that won ‘Most Likely to be a Famous Professional Surfer’ in your 5th grade yearbook.

“Hey, it’s been a while since I’ve hit the water. Maybe I need a refresher.” He flashed you a shit-eating grin- the kind girls around here would swoon over. But in that moment you were just plain uncomfortable.

“Sorry, we’re booked for the summer.”

He inched closer to the counter. “Well, at least let me take you out to dinner. Come on, when are you off?”

You glanced side to side in agitation, racking your brain for some witty remark.

“December.”

“I’m serious, y/n. I want to take you out! You know, get to know you better,” he prodded.

You weren’t born yesterday. But he sure was if he thought he was going to take you out anytime soon. Or ever.

“Yeah well, I think I’ll pass. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have my last session of the day in ten minutes.”

Luckily, you were able to slip past him and out to the beach for your beginners’ class. It was a small group- an old couple and two boys around the age of nine.

You greeted them with you usual work-charm and had them set their boards around you. Just as you situated yourself, you hear a faint “Wait!” followed by JJ sputtering towards the pack with a board under his arm.

You wanted to rip your hair out.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you spat, startling the old couple with you vulgarity.

“I’m here for the lesson.”

“Like I said,” you sneered through gritted teeth, “We’re booked.” The glare on your face was very, very potent, and you knew this wouldn’t be good for the reviews.

“Yeah, your co-worker in there told me one of the guys that was supposed to be here said he couldn’t make it. So that leaves a spot open for me.”

Cody. That rat!

You sighed in defeat, motioning for him to situate next to the younger boys. “Fine, just take a seat and be quiet. You already missed the safety instructions!”

All throughout your session JJ was an absolute pest. He could have at least played the part of someone who’s never picked up a surfboard in their life. Instead, every time you went into detail about a specific step, he’d pitch in his own comments no one asked for.

“Well actually, it’s better if you add a jump when you stand up, you’ll go faster.”

“Well actually, if you try to pivot your board when they wave’s under you, you can ride it longer.”

“Well actually, if you attempt a big wave first, you’ll learn how to balance better.”

The next ‘well actually’ you heard, you were going to fling JJ to the sharks.

When it was time for the group to hit the water, you tried to guide them through the motions, but everyone was too busy listening to JJ ramble on and on about his personal tips.

For the remainder of the session, you sat on the shallow end, watching JJ have a rat-a-tat time with your customers. Blowing away a stray hair that fell on your face, you continued to glare at the light-haired boy cheering on the kids as they attempted the baby waves.

There was a point where one of them leaned over onto JJ’s board and threw their arms around him. You softened at bit at the scene. It was very cute.

Once the hour was over, you called everyone back to shore to give your closing remarks. JJ darted up behind the lot, sparklets flying everywhere as he shook his wet hair. He beamed at you, but you just averted your eyes.

While everyone headed back to the hut, you tucked the cash you were given into your fanny pack and gathered your items to leave. That was, until you felt the player boy grab onto your hand.

“Hey, the waves are absolutely insane out there. This is your last session today right? Come surf for a bit, you didn’t really get to do much earlier,” he offered, blinking down at you with his sky-blue eyes.

“Well I would have if someone wasn’t running my class.”

JJ let out a soft chuckle. “Look, everyone was happy with the way it went. And I’ll even tell your boss that you’re an amazing instructor. Which, to tell you the truth, you are.”

You huffed and picked up your board to tread back into the water. You had to give it to him, though. The waves were indeed on fire that afternoon.

You were able practice a few moves you were working on, executing them perfectly. JJ, too, was flexing his tricks and you made a few mental notes to try a few of them later when he wasn’t around.

When a pipeline wave began rolling your way, JJ tossed you a devilish grin, looking like a kid ready to break something. It was supposed to be one of the hardest ones to surf on.

“Bet you won’t get this one!” he hollered. You flipped him off with a smile.

“Bet I will.”

You both eyed the target, determination evident, as you paddled. JJ quickly bounced up once it tumbled in while you waited a couple seconds after.

Immediately, he plunged from his board while you expertly pivoted and glided along the tide. Poking his head from the water, he yelped seeing you nail it.

Afterwards, you plowed back up the sand with him while he raved about what just happened. “That was so sick y/n! It was a pipeline! A fucking pipeline! I’ve never seen anyone do that before.”

You blushed and tucked your hair behind your ear. “Well, it’s kinda my job.”

As you reached the shop, he turned to face you. “Yeah, speaking of, when do they give you a break around here again?”

You chuckled and shook your head. “JJ, I had fun out there, but I’m still not going out with you.”

“Alright! Alright! I get it. Can’t hate a guy for trying.” He held his hands up in defeat.

You bid him goodbye and started getting ready to close the store.

Later that evening, you met Sophia and the others at Annalise’s condo, spilling the beans on what happened. They all collectively gasped and hung onto their seltzers.

“He actually came back?” Maia repeated as Arabella anxious gulped her drink.

“Yup! Bothered me for my entire session and everything. God, he’s so delusional thinking I’d actually go on a date with him.”

All the girls giggled except for Annalise who stared at the ground in deep thought. “But what if... you did?” she finally spoke.

You grimaced. “Why on earth would I do that?”

“No, like, fake date him,” she re-emphasized, “Think about it- you can fake-date him and we’ll go on your dates and sabotage the fuck out of him! Then, for the cherry on top, you can dump him before he even gets the chance to run! It’s the perfect ploy guys! We need to make sure he never messes with any girl ever again.”

“Uh, I don’t know,” you scratched your head, “Can we really pull it off? It sounds so messy don’t you think?”

“Relax, we’re not killing him,” Annalise assured, “Also, it’s what he deserves! He’s broken practically every heart on this island. It’s time we take a stand in the name of our womanhood!”

“That, I agree with,” Sophia added and the other two nodded.

You were kind of shocked that Soph would be on board with such a preposterous plan. But, then again, this wasn’t the worst thing she’s ever agreed to.

“You know,” your best friend continued, “I heard after you ditched him at the Boneyard, he hooked up with Emma Cohen the same night and ghosted her too. The boy just won’t stop!”

Arabella gasped. “See! Rejecting him just isn’t enough! We need to kick him straight in the balls!”

They did have a point. A twisted, ridiculous point. But you weren’t all gung ho about being the one to beat JJ at his own game. You- the girl who couldn’t even get Pope Heyward to take her to a dance.

“All you’d have to do is bear him for a few dates. I’m sure we can take care of the rest,” Maia noted.

Reluctance was still evident on your face. You could tell Annalise was getting desperate. “You know, y/n, I saw all the UVA gear on your locker at the shop. My dad’s best friends with the chancellor. He owes my family a lot of favors. How about I make a deal with you. If you do this for us, I’ll have my dad write you a rec letter and talk to his friend. You’ll be pretty much guaranteed a spot at UVA when you apply.”

You let out an exasperated breath. Now that was an offer you couldn’t refuse. You wanted to put up more of a fight, but you didn’t want to let an opportunity like that slip from your fingers.

“Alright,” you sighed, “Fine. You sold me with UVA. Count me in your little scheming game again.”

Your friends cheered and clinked their drinks, eyes hungry for revenge. You sat back meekly and sipped yours, knowing the next few weeks were going to be an absolute train-wreck.

“But wait!” you raised in the midst of the group’s plotting , “I shooed him away today. What makes you think he’ll be back to ask me again?”

“You rejected him twice today?” Arabella questioned. You gave her a quick nod.

“Oh girl, he’ll definitely be back.”

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

Sure enough, JJ was back at the hut bright and early the next morning when you started your shift.

“It’s you again,” you greeted as he leaned his arms against the counter, flashing you a smirk.

He had on black aviators and a gray crewneck. For a second he seemed like a cute, innocent little puppy. Until he opened his mouth.

“Don’t act so coy, babe, you know you’re happy to see me.”

Oh God. This was the guy making half the island bawl in tears? You really couldn’t wrap your head around it.

You sighed, ignoring his corny-ness. “What do you want? We’re booked for the day.”

“Ouch, is that any way to treat a customer?” He pretended to have gotten shot in the heart.

As if on cue, Cody’s stocky legs strolled out of the back room, acting like he owned the place. He slid behind the counter to face you, disregarding JJ. You scowled and rolled your eyes.

“Y/n one of my customers had a complaint yesterday,” Cody stated.

“What? They had a shitty instructor? I could’ve told them that,” you shot back nonchalantly, inspecting your bare nails in disinterest.

From the corner of your eye, you could see JJ snort in amusement.

“Actually,” he prevailed, “They were complaining that their board was wobbly because someone let their customers take all the new ones.”

You remained emotionless at his petty grievance. “What? It’s not my fault I don’t make my students do a hundred push ups at the start of the session. Maybe quit the crossfit and then they’ll actually leave better reviews.”

Cody narrowed his eyes. “My students are grateful for my complimentary body-weight routine! They need to be fit for the waters. Whatever, stop fucking taking all the good boards! You’re taking away my customer experience, my good reviews, and my scholarship!”

He proceeded to storm out the front door to his first set of victims for the day. You shot daggers at his back before JJ’s giggling snapped you back to reality.

“Done,” JJ said, lifting his eyes from his phone.

“What are you talking about?”

“I just left a bad review for that guy on your website.”

Your eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

JJ flipped his screen to you with the post pulled up. You read it out loud.

“Do not recommend having Cody as your instructor. Made me do a hundred push ups before I got in the water, voice was too demanding, and shorts were uncomfortably short.” You erupted in laughter and playfully swiped his arm. “No way JJ!”

“What?” he grinned and pocketed his phone. “Dude was being a real asshole to you.”

You lightened up a bit at his kind gesture. Well, kind to you.

“Anyways, look,” he went on, “I know we might’ve started off on the wrong foot yesterday, but I wanted to come here and ask you out again. Properly.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he persisted with his rehearsed spiel.

“And before you say no, I just want to say that it won’t be nothing grimey or weird. Just dinner. Tonight. It’s not gonna be the best night of your life or the worst, I just wanna get to know you.”

You sighed and cocked your head to the side. “If I say yes will you leave and stop bothering me while I’m at work?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

You blinked in disinterest. “Pick me up at seven. And don’t be late.”

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

note: dUN DUN DUN!!!

chapter four

tags: @obxlife @rudyypankow @yeehaw87 @ilymarkchan @jellyfishbeansontoast @tangledinsparkles @toloveortobeinlove @pixelated-pogues @normatural @teamnick @drizzlethatfalls @hazelgirl355 @wicked-laugh @jjmaybankswife @ponyboys-sunsets @5am-cigarette @everydayimfangirling @angvelics @poguecollins @xealia @floridabornandraised

#outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks #outerbanks #john b obx #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx #jj obx #jj x y/n #jj x reader #jj maybank #jj #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine

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missgarnet · 4 years

Text

Baby Daddies Chapter 2

Pairing: ot7 x reader

Word count:1.4k (it’s a little small)

Genre: fluff, and a little bit of chaos

Summary: So... no one tells you what to expect when you and your friends with benefits are about to have a child. (All plans are thrown out the window when your 7 closest friends find out they're going to become dads.)

Warnings: Jin is still the ultimate mom friend, pregnancy

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Link to ao3

Somehow you weren’t surprised to find Seokjin waiting for you once you got home the next week. Even after an 8 hour shift he still had more than enough energy to take over the kitchen and start bossing Yoongi around on helping with dinner.

“Hey Yoongi, remind me to take away Jin’s spare key.”

Jin rolls his eyes as he starts digging through your kitchen cabinets, “You already took my spare key, and the ones I had to borrow from Namjoon and Tae. Besides, I don’t see anything wrong with me wanting to come over and make sure you’re all taken care of.”

“So you broke into my apartment.”

“No, I was just talking to your lovely neighbor and she was kind enough to let us in.”

“And by that you mean you were hitting on my neighbor so she would lend you her key. You know, someday you’re not going to be able to flirt your problems away. It doesn’t work on everyone.”

“With this handsome face I can solve any problem.” He said, blowing a kiss. “Who could say no to my good looks and charms?”

You rolled your eyes knowing this happens at least once a day, “Me, get out of my apartment.”

A face peeked out from behind the couch, “Does that mean we have to leave too?”

Making your way to where Jimin had just popped up from, you took a seat on the couch and looked down at them hiding behind the furniture. Next to Jimin, Hobi was hunched over a stack of wooden furniture pieces and Taehyung was holding a set of instructions upside down as they tried to figure out how everything fit together.

“Yoongi said you were overwhelmed, so we wanted to help.” Hoseok said. “But someone ordered from an overseas company again and none of us can read the instructions.”

The someone in question wasn’t in the room to defend himself, “Where is Namjoon anyway?”

“He’s at the store trying to find a really nice journal. I was with him when Yoongi called and told us that you said something about getting one for all this.” Taehyung said, looking up from the instructions.

The muttering in the kitchen seemed to grow louder as Yoongi took the spoon away from Jin. It didn't sound like either of them were angry, but they were definitely bickering about something. From what you could hear it seemed like Jin was about to start another dish and Yoongi just wanted to have dinner already.

Jin had made far too much food, even for all of you combined. It seemed as though every inch of the table had been covered by some kind of dish that he insisted on adding to your plate. You kept telling him that it was enough, but it had become a sort of game between you two.

“So, how far along are you?” Tae asked as all of you sat down.

“The doctor said I was around ten weeks, so it probably happened when we all went on that weekend trip.” You said right before seeing Jimin and Tae high fiving across the table, almost knocking their plates over. Jin started shaking his head as he passed a small handful of cash to Yoongi. “Do I want to ask?”

“Probably not,” Yoongi said, pocketing the cash.

“Jin owes him money because he overestimated how far along you were, and Yoongi was the closest.” Jungkook chimed in from the end of the table.

“Oh really?” You asked, turning to the maknae, “And how many weeks did Jin guess?”

Jungkook seemed oblivious to the rest of the guys shaking their heads at him as he paused between bites. “He said you had to be at least 3 months, but then he thought you might be closer to 4 months.”

“Interesting” you said, staring Jin down from across the table as he avoided looking at you.

Jin’s ears started turning red from embarrassment, but he was given an escape as the door clattered open. Somehow the sight of Namjoon stumbling through the door and dropping a torn grocery bag had grown so familiar that it no longer surprised you. He started gathering the dropped books as he joined all of you at the table.

Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, “I thought you were just getting one notebook.”

“I was, but then I thought it might be better for all of us to have our own journal.” Namjoon said placing one of them before each of you. “This way we can keep track of everything and add our own thoughts.”

You could tell he’d put a lot of thought into this, picking one that fit each of you perfectly. As the maknaes began helping clean up the dinner mess, you took the time to examine the journals and notice the perfect writing on each front page announcing who it belonged to. The black journal had obviously been for Yoongi, pink for Jin,blue for Namjoon, green for Tae, and purple for Jungkook. But the ones that caught your eye the most were Jimin’s and Hobi’s, the first one had intricate golden designs printed onto the cover while the other was bright red with bold patterns clashing against one another. Only Namjoon would pay attention to that kind of detail on such a small purchase, he really knew each of you better than anyone else.

“Hey Y/N, can we talk?” Hoseok asked, pulling your attention away from the oversized journals. Something felt off and he seemed uncharacteristically serious. He wasn’t always all bright and sunny, but this was more than just being tired or even a small problem kind of tone.

“Yeah Hobi, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to ask if you’re doing ok. Yoongi said you were overwhelmed and I wanted to make sure that nothing was too much. We’re here for you if anything feels too difficult to do on your own. And if you want to share anything you can but you don’t have to.” Hoseok was trying to sound reassuring, but the way he kept emphasizing two was telling you more than what he was actually saying.

“Which one of them told you?” You could see Hobi trying to come up with an excuse as you waited for him to answer. “Hoseok, you know you’re not a good liar and I’m not mad.”

“Jungkook, he was kinda freaked out by all of it. I asked if he was okay and he just spilled everything.” He started grinning at the memory. “I’m happy I wasn’t at the appointment when I found out, but I was kinda wondering if I could see.”

“Of course, they’re yours just as much as the other guys. Maybe you could spend the night like old times, before you moved in with Yoongi.”

After everyone else had headed home, you found yourself laying in bed curled up in Hoseok’s arms as you started up the computer. Clicking on the video, you realized you were really watching it for the first time. You hadn’t been paying much attention during the visit, overwhelmed by everything going on. But sitting in your room, being held by Hobi gave you enough space and comfort to fully take in the video.

It was a little blurry when you hit play, but you could see the fuzzy little blobs on the screen where each child was. When the volume resumed you could see Hobi’s eyes light up as he reached toward the screen tracing each tiny figure. “They’re perfect.”

You smiled up at him, “they are, aren’t they?”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“Hobi, you have always been there for me and everyone else. It’s okay to take a break, even if it’s just a small one.” You wished he wouldn't be so hard on himself all the time, being cheerful and reassuring was great for everyone around him but you couldn't help but worry about it being too much for him at times.

He smiled softly, reaching towards the colorful journal to his side. Leaning over you could see him writing on it’s pages and adding little hearts around the words.

Week Eleven: I saw the twins for the first time today. I haven’t even met them yet, but I already love them so much!

#bts fic #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts ot7 x reader #chaotic bts fic

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jamestrmtx · 3 years

Text

The Bebop Blues - [Animal Crossing | Tom Nook x Reader]

[Gender-Neutral Reader | Slow Burn + Tragicomedy]

Part 3 of 10 | I Thought You Were Bae

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Was he that out of touch when it came to dealing with his feelings, beyond those of business, acquaintanceship, and friendship?

Maybe.

Having the human around doesn't help much with lessening that feeling, though he can't complain with how happy their presence makes him, breaking the monotony of each day, and helping him manage with his past without letting it consume him as badly as it once did.

"Hey, Tom!" they call out, heard loud and clear despite them being nowhere around.

His ears perk as he tries to follow the sound of their voice; he can hear a soft rustling noise from the orchard nearby, so it doesn't take long before he finds them.

Of course, it's by them bursting out of the cherry tree next to him, legs hanging onto a branch while their face lays upside down. They grin when he stays frozen from shock, though they soon show concern and approach him with a hand over his shoulder when he fails to snap out of it. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to scare you that badly!" They stay upside down even as they say that apology, and -- more than the scare itself -- he worries that them staying that way for too long could result in blood rushing to their head. "Anyway," they add, smiling. They pull their hand back and reach for their pocket to retrieve something from it. "I didn't climb up here without a reason." The human offers him a tiny, black box and a brighter smile when he meets with their eyes. "I saw this at the top of the tree. Do you know who it could belong to?"

Tom takes the box and helps them back to firm ground before opening it.

"Let me see…" His voice trails off as he stares at the contents inside. "This is…" His hands tense against the item and he feels sweat run down his forehead, yet he tries his best not to let any of that show. Inside rests a single, silver ring -- like an engagement one of sorts: simple, but elegant.

Had they truly climbed up a tree to retrieve such a specific item?

Or had they placed it there on purpose?

And if the answer to that last question was yes, then…

He shakes his head and lets out a sigh.

It's ridiculous to even consider that a possibility.

That is, until he looks back to them and sees they're offering out a hand to him. Said hand displays a finger with a similar ring on it, the only difference between the two being theirs is bronze instead of silver.

His heart skips and his eyes grow wide, permanent tiredness disappearing from his gaze as he stares at the human, at a loss for words.

"Will you," they begin, bringing their hand out closer to him, "...be my best friend?"

His tomfoolery ends and he receives a reality check like a sharp slap to the face.

Obviously, both he and them would be skipping plenty of steps if they'd really meant to propose to him.

But why would they choose such an odd manner to confirm the strength of their friendship with him?

It makes little sense, and it stays that way until he finally snaps out of it and gets a better look at the ring in the box. The word ‘BESTIES’ is engraved in the silver coating, along with two small yet detailed drawings of him and (Y/N) holding hands -- clearly almost about to kiss despite the all-caps term accompanying the scenario. If they'd commissioned an artist for the piece, then the person either misinterpreted what they wanted, or the human still waiting next to him was about as slow as he once was to realize his true feelings about Redd all those years ago.

That two-faced man meant nothing to him now though, and -- in comparison -- his feelings towards (Y/N) are about twice as strong as when he and Redd were a thing.

Knowing he shouldn't make them wait any longer, Tom brushes those thoughts aside, meets with their eyes, and takes in a sharp breath before replying with a solid 'yes'. A smile arrives to his face almost on instinct, and he finds it near impossible not to display that happiness in his posture, as well. Regardless of how (Y/N) felt about him and their lack of awareness -- be it intentional or not -- over what they meant to him, they still had their charm and ways. "...Though I believe we are already best friends, are we not?" he asks, tone hushed as he tries not to make a fool of himself any further. "This only solidifies that, if so."

The human beams at him and hugs him tight before he can even say anything in response. Tom hugs them back, but he soon tenses when he grows aware of how different they feel compared to the last time he hugged them. Their body's frail to the touch -- as if they're about to burst into nothing, like a dandelion in the wind. Fatigue shows through how shaky their breaths are, and when they let go, he sees colour drained from their cheeks and their eyes lacking their usual light.

"(Y- (Y/N)," he stutters, unsure how to approach the topic. "You-"

They lose balance and end up grabbing him again, this time for support rather than as an expression of gratitude or affection. Their body lays faint against him, and it grows heavy when their breathing becomes slower and scarcer. His eyes fall on a particular aspect of their legs, revealing multiple sting marks from what could be none other than a scorpion or ten. How red they look shows they're recent.

"I…" They shudder as they take in a breath. "I- I think something's wrong. Ever since I've been spending more time with you beyond our island work at the Resident Services building... I've been glitching nonstop. J- Just last night, I was running from a scorpion, when I suddenly, in- involuntarily stopped and... And ended up receiving multiple stings from it."

Tom's eyes turn wet despite not quite understanding what those words imply. "What does this me-" he stops himself mid-sentence, realizing it's not the best time for him to be asking about that. "Shall I carry you to my office?"

(Y/N) nods, albeit weakly. "Yes, please." They manage another smile before closing their eyes again and letting him carry them off to a safer place. "...Thank you, Tom." That's the last thing they say as they blank out, leaving him to rush off back to his office.

He first locks their arms around his neck and holds them by the waist second, third and final being him gathering strength to lift them up. Now in his arms, he's able to walk off -- slowly but surely. Nearby villagers notice the scene and help out, some by offering medicine -- like Twiggy and Stitches -- while two others pretty much offer themselves to aid with the lifting.

"We can carry them," Rocket says while Teddy nods, gaze knit as the gravity of the situation dawns on her. "Go ahead and get things ready! We'll be there in a flash."

Tom nods back and does as told, rushing off as soon as both villagers have a good grip on (Y/N).

A glitch -- whatever that implied -- would be something he would face head-on if it meant his friend would be safe and sound.

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#tom nook x reader #animal crossing x reader #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #romcom #tragicomedy #angst #fluff #slow burn #short fic #short and sweet

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

A Man And His Cat

You both explore pet play.

Masterlist

Warnings: Adult situations +18 , Pet play, Spanking, Oral, Its kinky

A/n: Sooo who wants smut? my quarantine imagine went down well so here is another dirty fic. This will probably be a mini series feel free to send me your kinks and I will try and incorporate them. I am still working on my other stories slowly but on a little writers block and I may or may not have re-watched superman vs batman so look out as there might be some more dc on the horizon because omg I nearly forggot how yummy they were. Anyway here is another smut piece for you all hope you enjoy xx

Taglist @two-unbeatable-beaters @thatgirly81

A Man And His Cat

You lounged across the sofa in your hello kitty onesie playing your xbox, you'd gotten Jurassic world evolution and was currently snickering letting your t-rex run around eating people. Henry was upstairs you could hear him moving around in the study. The door bell went off you quickly got up wrestling kal out of the way to answer it hearing the post man call out he had left it on the bin you thanked him bringing the large box inside with a few letters piled on top. Not thinking anything of it you brought the post in kicking the door shut behind you.

"Babe what the fuck?" You froze not sure at first what you'd done wrong

"Shit hands! hands! sanitize them quick! we cant take chances! Your not supposed to answer the door I've told you that! Were in London! For Christ sake" He said rushing to you snatching the post handing you the sanitizer that sat on the table by the door. You shook your head quickly rubbing the sanitizer over your hands letting it soak in as Henry shook his head at you watching closely.

"Sorry, sorry I forgot" he sighed since receiving your official 'shielding' letter from the government Henry had been a little mother hen....papa bear? Either way he was on edge hounding you about keeping your hands clean not touching anything that could possibly be infected or letting anyone other than himself with in 6ft of you. He even made you take your temperature each day with good reason tho your heart clenched things were getting bad the infection and death rates climbing each day ,there was rumors that the UK was on the course to being just like Italy and Spain. In a way his worrying was your fault when the letter came through Henry had freaked out a bit, it hit him hard when he realized it wasn't just speculation it was a fact that if you caught this thing it would most likely kill you and he was shook to the core. It didn't help when you'd only told him a few days prior not to worry about your condition that it was under control ,which technically it was every two months you was having blood tests every so often your blood count would dip a little but you normally managed it with your diet just eating more meat usually does it, the protein helping your count go up a little. You didn't bore him with the details he didn't need to know to much, you knew what to do and when to do it, it was normal for you. You feel yourself getting rough you get a blood test and up your steroids, you feel better you lower them back down the main goal being avoiding blood transfusions. But Henry had insisted he needed to know everything now he said it'd make him feel better so you told him, sat him down and explained that somehow your body can survive on a borderline blood count it should be 120 to 150 yours hovers around 100 to 110... If your lucky, not low enough for a transfusion but low enough to cause a few problems if it drops any more the lowest it got in recent years was 57.... yeah that wasn't fun, you'd spent two whole days seven till seven getting transfusions then had to go back to have the iron in your blood taken out....It was not pretty, but since then you'd been more careful. You explained the fact that your immune system was practically non-existent you caught chicken pox a year before and it nearly killed you two days after the spots appeared causing all sorts of issues pneumonia, bacterial infections in the heart and lungs then sepsis resulting in a few weeks in hospital in the infectious diseases unit so yeah safe to say catching this thing would be bad. Henry bless him was gobsmacked he knew you was anemic ,that was it, he had enough on his plate you didn't want to add to it.You leaned back on the side unit by the door trying to pet kal who sniffed at your hand then snorted walking off, he didn't like the sanitizer one bit.

"Henry I'm sorry I just-it keeps slipping my mind" he nodded wrapping you up in a bear hug resting his chin on your head.

"I know baby I'm sorry for snapping... I just don't want to loose you, stay indoors and stay safe those aren't just the government's rules ,their my rules as well baby girl remember?" You nodded kissing his chest before replying.

"Yes daddy" then turned and walked to the living room again noticing kal playing in his small cubby hole that had been a cupboard until recently, it had been turned into his own little bed room, complete with bed, night light and shelves that had some family photos of the three of you, you blew him a kiss and he huffed plonking his head down on his fluffy bed stretching out ready for his morning nap, you settled back down to play your game. Henry used the sanitizer then ran a hand through his hair sighing he picked up the post bringing it in placing the large box on the counter. He smirked realizing what it was. His order from bondara ignoring the letters he quickly got a knife slicing open the box. Henry routed around in the box like a kid on Christmas excited he headed up stairs to collect his other investments. You was pulled out of your game by Henry combing your hair back with his fingers pulling it up and back into a high ponytail, something you had no idea he could do, you paused the game turning to him but he held you still facing the TV then you felt them. He had clipped your little fluffy grey kitty ears in your hair pulling the pony tail tighter to secure the bottom of the crocodile clips. You brought a hand up to them confused a little touching them softly. He walked to the side smiling cooing at you

"There she is my precious little kitty! Just look at how cute you are?" You flushed at him as he bent down petting between your 'ears' then he growled in your ear.

"I could just eat you all up" you mewled rocking on the sofa a little anticipating the way this would turn out he gasped a little.

"But whats this? you still need your collar how will anyone know you have a loving owner if you don't have a cute little collar on?" he strode across the room plucking something from the box and retrieved a few more items from the counter that you hadn't known was there ,now tho you could clearly see a folded black towel you moaned at the implication he must have brought it down from upstairs turning he made his was back to you this time standing in front of you.

"As much as I did like your own kitten collar I got you a new one, not from bondara I didn't like theirs much but thankfully etsy is still up and running, here it is see?" You gasped as he revealed a pink leather choker with a pretty lace and ruffle design making it look more like a fancy Lolita choker then a kitty collar apart from the large rose gold D ring hanging from the middle just below a dark pink bow and medium-sized rose gold bell You quickly made to grab for it but he pulled it out of reach .

"No let me do it" you quickly held your head high stretching your neck for him to put it on he chuckled at how eager you was, you smiled wide as he quickly placed it around your neck you sighed when you felt the inside was a little padded with a soft almost suede like material. He spun it around so the bell and D ring was central then hooked two fingers inside checking how tight it was satisfied that it wouldn't choke you he pulled away and watched you closely then he sighed

"No ... its still not right is it kitten?" You tilted your head feeling a little ashamed?upset? he didn't like it? Did he think you were ugly? You blinked frowning at him bottom lip wobbling a little as you were on the brink of tears pulling back from him.

"What-" he shushed you placing a finger to your lips

"Kittens don't talk, now there is something missing pet, Ah! I know now this might be it" he said and picked up a small shiny matching rose gold heart tag, he held it to you to read it. On one side it said kitten the other had 'Property Of Henry If Lost Call' and his phone number on it you gasped a little opening your mouth the thank him but he snapped his fingers at you.No talking. You pouted mewling up at him again not sure how to communicate how much you loved it. Then you clicked leaning forward licking his hand biting lightly before tilting your head nuzzling his crotch. You smirked as his breath hitched in his throat and he grunted swearing quietly unable to stop himself from grinding on your head a little then stopped as you pulled back he grunted again rearranging himself in his bottoms. He made quick work of threading the tag onto the D ring he kissed your head

"Good girl and look baby it was a set" he leaned over you picking up a thick soft paracord lead in pink with leather handle decorated to match your new collar clipping it onto the D ring then looped it around his hand tugging lightly prompting you off of the sofa once you stood he quickly undid the buttons on the onesie letting it fall leaving you naked in the room. You shivered nipples puckering as the soft lead grazed your breasts and tummy as he moved, stepping out of the onesie Henry kicked it across the room.

"There we are kitten, nearly finished now down" he said barley containing his excitment you got down on your hands and knees before him holding his gaze rubbing your thighs together rocking side to side trying to caress your tingling clit between your lips as you felt small trickle of your arousal escape onto the floor mewling at the tiny flickers of pleasure it caused. Henry lead you across the living room to the island in the kitchen crawling was a little tricky at first but you soon found a smooth rhythm staying beside him smiling as the bell tinkled at every movement you made, he smiled down at you from this angle you could already see the bulge forming in his trousers, you went to sit down when he stopped only to have him fold the lead in one hand an strike you with it lightly across your breasts making you yelp out then moan looking down seeing a red stripe across them.

"No sitting until your told now ass up, good kitten just like that" you complied preening at his praise. He bent down holding out a fluffy grey kittytail plug you squealed a little bending further down pushing your tender breasts to the cold floor looking back at him expectantly waving your ass in the air at him. He laughed and crouched beside you running a hand across your dripping pussy he leaned over kissing your head growling as his fingers massaged your wet center you moaned pushing back on him, he dragged his fingers to your opening plunging two thick fingers inside crooking them trying to scoop out more of your cum holding the plug just below you arched pushing back skimming your breasts across the cool floor trembling as he fucked you slowly bringing the plug to your clit and pressing it in small circles making you buck against him moaning and keening in higher pitches.

"Oh looks like I may have wasted money on lube hey baby? all wet and ready for me already such a precious thing." he ran the plug along your ass smearing your arousal across you all the way down to your slit you moaned as he spread his fingers out pulling your lips with them revealing your quivering hole to the cold air of the room making you gasp and clench as the freezing metal plug passed over it resting heavy on your clit, bucking a little you whined pushing back a little as the cold metal met your heated wet flesh, he held it still letting you warm the toy before running it back and forth slowly twisting it letting your arousal coat it wanting to make sure it was wet enough for him to push it in once satisfied he lifted it moving one hand to your bottom then began pressing it insistently at your tight little pucker. You whined placing the side of your face on the cool tile looking at him, he stroked your head shushing you when he realized just how much bigger this was from the last one

"Ok kitten now try to hold still one big deep breath just like before...Good girl now out push on your bottom" you nodded whining bearing down on the toy as he held your shoulder using it to pull you back as he started pressing the tail further into you. You arched taking deep breaths when the plug seemed to get wider and wider you shook your head trying to arch away as it stung despite your arousal easing the way, you panicked a little as it seemed to keep stretching becoming sore as your tight ring tried fighting it .

"N-no its to muc-AAHH!" you cried out , he shushed you

"Come on kitten... Nearly there....Just a tiny bit more I promise......Push out again for me good girl! shh that’s it...Such a good girl for me......Ah ah no! stop moving bab-baby no no don't do-HEY! enough!-you’ll hurt yourself!" He scolded you as you tried to push against his hand on your shoulder to wriggle away then when that didn't work you unconsciously tried tucking your bottom beneath you whimpering. He stopped you with a quick volley of sharp spanks you yelped as his hot hand heated your ass, then there was a familiar popping sensation as your bottom swallowed the plug closing snug around it. He had used the distraction to quickly push the last of the plug in with a quick little shunt. You pushed up on your hands breathing heavy as the plug was indeed larger then the one you had used before, you ached as your ass tried fighting it wanting to push it out you let out pitiful breathy moans as you rippled around it.

"Daddy? Its big-im not sure-FUUCK OOHH" you cut yourself off moaning loud when he grabbed the tail and gave a small tug smirking as you cried out then followed it trying to ease the pressure he thrusted it a few times hitting something deep that made you arch high and squeal pressing back on to it as your pussy ceased and your clit throbbed so hard it almost felt raw he let go then twisted on his feet petting your head drawing patterns on your back.

"Oh baby I know its hard but your a kitten and kittens don't talk , if you carry on daddy will gag you understand?" you nodded at him pressing your head into his chest and kissed it softly wanting a little comfort, hissing deep breaths as you clenched around the tail plug whining, he brought the hand from your back and rubbed around the plug pressing it lightly.

"Its a little bigger but look at you? such a good girl look at that pretty little tail now just one more thing and you'll be daddies perfect kitty" he stood back up getting the remaining items a set of mittens that had no thumb piece instead just one Little pouch to fit your hand in with little paw prints on them they would be held on by two thin leather wrist cuffs. you wriggled around now growing accustomed to the bulbous plug pressing on your insides moaning as the ache became more a pleasurable throb you rocked a little in the air mouth open gasping as you rocked faster feeling the plug press against the back wall of you pussy, Henry quickly snatched up your hands one after the other locking them into the paw mittens. He stood back groaning loud as he watched cupping his erection rubbing along the bulge moaning rocking his hips into his palm as you kept arching your back. The sight was more erotic then he could have dreamed, he almost drooled as you rotated and wriggled your hips pushing back and forth trying to make your plug hit the spot he had pressed it to earlier moaning with closed eyes flushing a bright red, flinching as the tail ghosted your legs as it swayed behind you, turning you looked at the soft tail hanging between your legs giggling as the soft fur licked at your thighs. He snapped out of it and tugged you moving slower this time you stopped every so often moaning and whimpering as each step make your pussy twitch as the plug pressed against the back wall of it teasing your sensitive flesh from the wrong side by the time you got to the sofa both thighs were wet and you was shaking with need he sighed sitting down on it legs spread holding the lead tight keeping your head close to his crotch

"Come on baby time for your little treat" he said motioning for you to pull him free you brought your hands up fumbling with the zipper only really achieving to rub him through them ,making him grind against your hands throwing his head back you groaned in frustration whimpering at him resting your head in the inside of his thigh running your nose across the bulge sighing he looked down then petted you between your ears again.

"Oh kitten you can do better then that come on get daddy out." you pouted at him and nipped his thigh with your front teeth making him hiss and tug harshly on the lead growling at you before wrapping the cord around his fist once more pressing your nose into his crotch

"Bite me again kitten and see what happens, you think I wont fuck your throat raw? Ram into your mouth until my cock is choking you? Face fuck you until your pass out? I wouldn't test me kitten not now Ive waited to long to have you like this." His low ground out threats made you moan you couldn't wait until he fucked your mouth, already craving his salty taste, you kissed his cock through his trousers licking at it, it made you realize what you should do you trembled tucking your knees underneath you to keep your weight off of the plug you licked a long strip up the front of his trousers wetting them making him grunt again, one hand rested on your head petting you, you smirked watching through your lashes as he started flushing and panting, he loved it when you did this it was the only time he let you tease mostly because he was enjoying himself to much to fight for control, for all his talk of wanting control you think he secretly liked being at your mercy every once in a while, you poked out your tongue grazing his zipper then bit down making sure to press on him harshly making him yelp and hiss though clenched teeth when you dragged it down, he fumbled quickly undoing his top button and shimmied them down his hips giving you enough room to bite his boxers and pull them down....only you didn't you wrapped your lips over them sucking on him hard through them making sure to soak his boxers with spit making him groan giving a thrust up to your face fisting his fingers in you hair a little careful not to pull off the ears.

"FUCK kitten!! Oh GOD! fuck pleaseplease do that again!! come on once more such a good girl" you did taking your sweet time kissing and suckling on him nudging him with your nose pushing him up and latched onto the sensitive underside of his cock running your teeth over his hot flesh rocking your hips left and right letting your pussy massage itself poking out your tongue you flattened it running it up the vein near his head pinning it to his hip then opened your mouth around it humming, he jerked up ass leaving the seat moaning out loud swearing at you for being a tease, you continued up finding his swollen crown you licked at it then his slit sucking again on him. He groaned loud and drawn out flexing his fingers and widened his legs you carried on enjoying having the man at your mercy for once kissing and sucking at his twitching length he began rocking faster panting.

"OH! yesyesYES Baby...WAIT HOLD ON!... Fuck slow down!Dont nono that's it kitten thats enough daddies going to cum! NO! ENOUGH!" you giggled as he used the lead to jerk you away panting and sweaty you thought it was funny you'd never heard him that desperate before, he normally had godlike restraint holding himself back for hours if he really wanted to, he gasped then ran a hand across his face and melted into to sofa fighting of the impending orgasm. You sat there biding your time once he relaxed you swooped back in ready to force him to cum in his boxers, but only managed one kitten lick before being jerked away again he growled at you in warning giving you a stern look then tugged of his top still panting.

"you cheeky little thing!" you grinned raising yourself to your knees running your hands up his thighs as you leaned in kissing along the v of muscles above his boxers licking at his skin then nuzzled him lightly ghosting his stomach with your nose placing butterfly kisses here and there feeling him flex trying to arch his cock up to you, you slowly made your way down again opening your mouth tilting your head to engulf the muscle just on his boxers waistband flattening your tongue relishing in the pleasure filled noises he let loose and in the same moment curled your fingers over it the elastic pulling it away letting him spring free hitting your chin. He grunted as you let go letting the elastic snap back onto his balls only letting his cock free he looked down at you giving you a heated look

"Careful baby you don't want to play these games with me" you blinked innocently at him smiling then began kissing lower until you was at the base of his cock ignoring the small patch of hair at his root kissing him obscenely with open mouthed wet kisses then licked him from base to tip before plunging down on him he groaned closing his eyes tight

"FUCK KITTEN! Oohh god that's so hot, shit your mouth is SO FUCKING HOT UGH!" You sucked him deep swallowing around him letting one hand wander to his balls cupping them and rolling them in your palm your other hand dropped between your legs and you ground yourself on your hand moaning onto his cock as you worked your clit in slow firm strokes making your new gloves sticky and wet from your arousal. He cried out desperately bucking into your mouth and throat moaning and crying out cutting off his own words as you kept changing your pace hearing your little bell jingle with your movements on him bobbing your head slow with harsh sucks to his head then fast making sure to swallow or moan as he hit your throat focused solely on making him cum. Today he would cum first you were going to make sure. You whined as you changed direction on your clit feeling the heat in your belly slowly make its way down settling in your hard clit rubbing and tapping at it moaning louder as your orgasm began to build. He shivered his thighs jerking and trembling as you pointed your tongue pressing on the sensitive vein underneath it he shook his head clutching at the sofa grunting breathlessly each time he felt the vibrations of your throat moaning on him.

"BABY BABY STOP! I cant fuck please its to much- no nononono not yet I FuckFU-Fuuuck ah AH AH OH SHIT FUUUUUUCK" you ignored him, he was so lost that he had forgotten the lead, you used it to your advantage pulling back and sucking hard on his head licking at his slit then gripped his sack squeezing it tight as it tensed upwards then with one small drag of your teeth he whimpered loud and high releasing in your mouth jerking himself uncontrollably into your mouth face fucking you just like he threatened. You gave yourself a mental pat on the back but decided to go further swallowing as much of his cum you could but continued to suck and bob on him then cried out as your rocking hips found that perfect position on your clit making it throb and twitch your walls clenching, spasming making the plug move and caress your depths finally you screeched around his cock and came over your hand soaking the glove he yelped curling his feet into the floor shifting back trying to get away you followed placing your hands on his thighs pushing them back as he tried closing his legs trembling from your own release moaning and withering against him.

"UGH NOO FUCK STOPSTOPSTOOOP! ITS TO MUCH BA-KITTEN STOP IT NO PLEASE" he through his hands down blindly pushing you but you fought him wanting to torture him a bit, a little pay back for the other day you reasoned, but you couldn't fight him long even in his fucked out quivering state he was ten times stronger than you, you dragged your teeth across him one last time as he pushed you back off of him completely.

"Your a little bitch, you know that?" He said head tilted back and one arm draped across his eyes heaving deep breaths you just giggled kissing his thighs

"Where the fuck did that come from Anyway?" You just smirked licking your lip trying to collect the cum that had escaped from your mouth he groaned watching your pink tongue darting out.

“Meow?” You were a dangerous little kitten he decided. He looked down feeling your wet mitten then frowned a little before smiling deviously.

"Oh kitten? You didn't touch yourself did you?" You froze a little then sent him coy glance pulling your hands down slowly hoping he wouldn't notice. He caught your offending hand quickly

"Did you?" You shrugged feigning innocence as he pulled your hand up sniffing it you blushed

"It certainly smells like you" you whined at him flushing embarrassed making him chuckle, he licked a long strip of of the mitten slapping his lips as he puled away tutting.

"Oh i think you did didn't you? Because daddy knows exactly how you taste and that my sweet little kitten is definitely you on this little mitten, such a needy little kitty hm? Did suckling on daddy really make you that desperate? Poor little baby" you panted as he bent forward his pupils dominated the blue of his eyes hot and playful all in one he peered down at the wooden floor sighing.

"Such a messy little pussy you have" he pushed you back a little you ducked when his leg swung over you and he got up walking to the counter again you watched carefully as he approached the box you took the time to admire his taught ass as he bent forward a little reaching inside picking something out then folded the towel over his arm then hear the distinct sound of leather cracking on an open palm. You snapped out of your ass worshiping gaze eyes flicking to his hands as he spun around looking at him as he held a new leather paddle with a paw print on it he smiled slyly crooking a finger at you. Come here. You gulped then rose from your spot on the floor crawling toward him gulping.

"You know kitten you was very reckless at the door earlier it was very naughty trying to torture daddy and playing with yourself without permission? I think you should be.....Corrected shall we say, for future reference just as a deterrent?. After all prevention is better then cure isn't it?" he licked his lips watching you squirm on the spot just across the kitchen island he tested the small paddle again. Your whole body ceased up as he stared at you.

"Erm N-no lets not how about best two out of three? You know three strikes and your out?" He chuckled shaking his head.

"Oh baby but that was three strikes and how many times do i have to tell you? kittens don't talk do they?" You pouted trying to sit your bottom down only to jerk it back up as your tail plug pressed deeper and the soft fur tickled your leg... not only that you didn't want to get it wet with your arousal

"Come kitten what do you say?" You blushed

"Meow" his face lit up yet his eyes only got darker

"That’s it such a clever kitty, but I must say you will be getting more then three strikes of your new paddle trust me now come round here like a good girl" you crawled around to his side squeaking as he lifted you effortlessly bending you over the counter you hissed as your breasts squished into the freezing cold marble your toes didn't touch the floor as he shuffled you up with the edge of the island on your thighs. He stood off to the side a little admiring the way your grey tail hung between your legs, the pitiful noises were delicious he grunted feeling himself twitch already starting to harden again he patted you bottom drawing lines along the soft skin moving to your slit following up towards the plug lifting the tail holding it taught in a fist but not pulling it out just tugging enough to make it press down into your pussy from behind. You moaned squirming trying to follow it as he held it high toes scrabbling up the cupboard door failing.

"Oh baby that's so cute, you know I can see your pussy trying to find something to latch on to, does it feel hot? Is it empty? Sweet kitten you see if you had been a good girl following your rules, if you had stopped when daddy said and asked to touch yourself daddy would already be balls deep, battering away at your needy little pussy painting your insides with his cum... but no instead you hand to be a naughty girl and will have to settle for your paddle." You cried out as he circled your twitching clit as he spoke emphasizing words with shallow thrusts on his fingers he pulled away picking up the paddle striking your lower cheeks and pussy making you jump and moan hearing a wet slap as the sting settled in he pulled away running a hand over the pink spot

"Oohh look at that hah you have a little paw print on your tush now,I think fifteen will do don't you sweety? Five for each naughty thing you did? You know normally I would have you count and say thank you, but well seeing as your a kitten today you should meow instead" You groaned as he lifted it again slapping a bit harder this time you yelped as he aimed for the under curve of your left cheek then meowed dutifully.

"Very good again" he struck you again lower on your thigh no harder then before this time you meowed again moaning as your pussy clenched dripping on your touching thighs. You closed your eyes tight as he continued peppering your ass with the paddle the final five landed in quick succession on your weeping pussy you meowed loud and hard sobbing each pussy spank had directly struck the underside of your clit. Throwing the paddle on the counter he cupped your red swollen lips his hand cooling the burn. He smiled then tilted his hips up bringing his fully erect cock to your entrance. Throwing the towel down on the floor. You sobbed higher as he drew lines on your slit teasing your muscles you jerked against him just on the edge of cumming kicking out your legs.

"You know I have been doing some reading about squirting, I think I've sussed out how to make it happen on command shall we test it out?" You shook your head grunting as he thrust forward you cried out feeling him force your walls apart making room for his fat throbbing cock it stung more then ever with your weight on your tummy and plug in your ass but you loved it.

"Ugh! NOOO!AH AH FUCK!" You mewled grunting at each punishing thrust stretching you he was fighting the plug in your ass for room holding firm he grinded your clit you screeched as he angled his hips and tugged up on the tail making the embedded metal run along his cock growling. Before you knew what happened your body ceased walls tightened clamping around his cock moaning and gasping releasing, flooding over him he laughed groaning as your steady stream of cum hit his abdomen and washed over him.

"Oh fuck! yes I knew you could do it good girl, fuck that's so HOT! again more come on baby you can do it! Give it to daddy once more then I'll fill you" he grunted doubling his efforts stroking his cock around inside of you giving sharp tugs to your tail jolting you back against him to meet his brutal hips making you whimper at the harsh treatment one of his hand snuck below you pinching your clit almost jerking it off.

"FUCK I’m nearly there KITTEN! OH SHIT! Fuckfuckfuck you better fucking cum for me! Or I'll get the wand out again!" That did it You threw your head back placing your toes on the cupboard door rocking against him cumming again long and hard, so hard you couldn't make a sound all the air left you and you just hung there your mouth hanging open in a silent scream he grunted gabbing your shoulders pulling you back to him making your spine curve painfully as you fell apart around him again your sopping pussy sucking on him trying to trap him with on final painful thrust he growled rubbing his cock head on your cervix releasing torrents of cum into you. He lowered your shoulders down feeling you go limp taking a moment to catch his breath then he pulled the box towards him panting heavy fishing out another plug

"NOnonono please Henry no moreIi cant-I came again I promise I did please don't get the wand out!" You panicked pleading with him as his hand disappeared into the box pushing back on him, he smiled waving a dildo plug on your face

"Not a wand see this is for your pussy love, to keep my cum inside you for the rest of the day.....after all you was a bad kitten" you mewled relaxing happy he wasn't going to torture you again to tired to argue you laid still as he pulled himself from you quickly plugging you up before anything could escape. You moaned and wriggled he slid you off of the counter to you feet quickly supporting you as you nearly dropped to the floor smirking a smug little smile you reached behind you to pull the tail from you he smacked your hand away

"Ohh no I think I will have you stay like this all day, at least then I know you wont answer the door" you gaped then pouted at him crossing your arms at him

"A-all day? What if I get cold" he chuckled walking across to the sofa throwing you his tshirt you quickly tried slipping it on but dropped it due to your mittens you sulked stamping a foot he pulled on his boxers then returned picking up the tshirt sliding it on you then quickly undid the mittens you flexed your fingers when they were free , he collected the damp towel on the floor wiping down your thighs and between your legs you took the other end patting his pelvis down blushing realizing just how much mess you'd made you looked down still wiping him tears sprung to your eyes sniffling

"Oh god this is so embarrassing" could hear the quiver in your voice, ready to cry out of shame he growled not having non of that he shook his head hooking his fingers into your collar pulling you up on your tiptoes forcing you to look him in the eye.

"Not its fucking hot! I cant believe how sexy that was feeling you cum so thoroughly, drenching me uncontrollably, fuck it was the most amazing feeling! And I cant wait to make you soak me again and again, one day I’m going to drink it from you." You blushed shocked by his words as he leaned in kissing you passionately sucking on your tongue he pulled away tossing the towel into the washing machine then pulled the leather cuffs from the loops in the mittens throwing then in as well quickly turning it on to rinse and dry. Then quickly he scooped you up settling back on the couch, you squirmed pulling the tail from under you he held it up your back lightly then handed you the controller.

"Now show me your Jurassic park d-did you let the t rex out?" You smiled giggling at him nodding then snugged back into him as you started making a new paddock in the game. These next few months were going to be the best of your life if today was anything to go by.

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fic #henry cavill smut #henry cavill #quarantine writing

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avery-allyss · 3 years

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I guess this could be worse.

The assignment was to create a design based off of one or more creation myths. I have little hints of several because copying something too closely seems redundant. Yes it a bit of a confusing jumble and you need to stretch a lil to pick up all the references, but I like it that way.

Egg shape is from several myths, mainly because my favorite myth is the Finnish creation myth, which is also the source of the duck. I'll get more into that further down in the reflective portion of this post.

The yin/yang base for the devision of the egg is from Asia. The concept is more into the description of the energies, the yang being masculine firey intenseness of light, and the yin being the quite coolness of darkness.

The volcano ang glacier are derived from Norse mythology, and I played with the idea of making some sort of root system in the line separating the two to represent the beginning of yggdrasil.

The reeds and cat are from the native American myth. Something about a Reed carrying the founders through worlds, and loosing a war to cat people? It stuck in my mind.

This is the second time I've ever done print making, the first was over ten years ago and stamping a smaller design on an extra large Tshirt I still use as pjs.

The entire process was a mess.

We had one linoleum panel to work with. We had to carve away each color we wanted to keep.

I started slow because the white and yellow layers were so complicated.

I miss measured the paper size so the back of all four copies are a mess.

I made four copies, and every one had a different mystake. The one showed was the only one that the cat showed up on.

I fucked up carving alot, I just got good at covering it up.

The duck has no bill. I tried to make up for it by giving them an intentional halo, it didn't quite work.

The reeds are too short. This actually gives off a slightly more organic vibe than I was going for. I'm not quite sure if I like it.

One of the sun swirls is broken up a bit because my hand sliped.

The blue layer was off and ended up giving the volcano some highlight. It pops a little until you realize it's out of place, so I don't like it.

Printed red through black in one day, my entire arm hates me still. I had my entire arm tensed to prevent slip ups. It's not so bad right now because my mom told me which med to take today, but I couldn't sleep on that side or my back very well last night. At least I didn't break skin when I stabed myself! I need to lay off crocheting, but that's how I decompress...

I will repost with individual pictures of each copy and the drawing on Monday, that's when the crit is anyway.

What I would do differently

Smaller egg, let the corners interact with each other a bit.

I would play with the idea of white clouds, or white with black highlights.

I would make the sun swirls part of the red gradient. I would also simplify their shape to make them easier to carve.

I would look at different ways to portray the cat. Maybe I would play with the idea of red eyes on the cat. Red claws to represent violence? Cause I'm not going to ever go all in on a horrific portrayal, hints have to do for kitty.

Multi colored and more consistent pebble bed. Maybe mossy rocks or sand with grasses growing in? Seeds? Arthropods to pull in yet another creation myth?

Duck would have a bill and a halo or some sort. There plenty of methods to imitate and explore.

I would play with the idea of defining individual rock structure on the volcano and the small waterfall.

Gemstones on the volcano?

Maybe not even do a volcano, and just make a black dragon on a mountain? Chinese style to keep up with the theme of creation?

Shade the reeds in gradients, maybe make thin red lines to imitate their texture?

Dragonflies by the reeds?

Green layer to add moss and lichen, as well as springtime pigments for the reeds as opposed to fall, can you even marble shades effectively in print making? Green detailing on the cat would start getting Erie.

Yggdrasil roots in the division, multi color highlights on yellow, tiny branch coming around to poke out by the sun?

Grey to black gradient instead of straight black for the outline?

Use a digital painting software instead of actualy carving it all. That's the only way I will play with this image again.

The Finnish Godess of Creaton

Luonnotar

Once the universe was comprised of three things.

There was nothingness, a vast unmeasurable abyss where not even a single star shone. The power of stillness was held in the dark expanse.

There was a river, a mysterious flow of swirling posability. The power and movement of the universe was held in the 'waters'.

And lastly, there was a girl. Luonntar was the daughter of the stillness of the abyss and the power of movement. She was alone, and there was nothing for her to do, no way to express herself, or to release energy, or even just simply enrich her life. She did not know companionship, so she did not know to be lonely. She did not sleep, nor did she truly live. She only felt emptiness. There was no pain to be felt, nor was there joy to be had.

Something changed. Something tightened in Luonntar's chest, as though her heart was hurting. Over another eternity she came to recognize the pain as desire. Into her emptiness had flowed a blind longing. She wanted something but she did not know what there even was to want. She wanted change, but because she never experienced anything but the same river and the same darkness, she had no idea what it was she wanted.

Slowly (as everything so far had), an idea budded in Luonntar's mind, the first idea ever in the universe. She jumped into the river and swam. She did not sink, but floated on the surface, looking back up to the darkness she had left from. This action permanently altered the universe, though seeing how took some more time (of corse). In the meantime the girl relaxed as she drifted through the river.

Then came a duck ((grapes are not involved in this myth stahp)) swimming up to Luonntar. A duck, in a universe where there had only ever been one being, now there were two! With Luonntar's change and wish, she changed the entire universe and a new world was created in which the duck could exist too.

The curious bird swam around the girl looking at the strange other being, the girl laying very still as she did the same. The duck climbed up onto Luonntar's warm knee and sat. Then something else happened, something so beautiful that Luonntar could not believe her eyes.

The duck layed three eggs there upon the goddess' knee because it was the only warm dry place in the entire universe, and the only place the future could hatch.

Luonntar kept so very still, anxious of the fragile life prched upon her knee. The duck warmed her clutch as they grew hotter and hotter as the future drew near.

Luonntar yearned for that future like she had never yearned before, bringing back the dull pain from before. She ignored it.

The eggs grew uncomfortably hot, the ducks featherstickled her, and the bebed feet left tiny scratches on her. She ignored it all.

Suddenly the duck shifted, her feathers tickling Luonntar and she couldn't help but to twitch reflexively. She did not mean to but it was enough. She watched horrified as the eggs tumbled into the river. She berated herself, fearing for the eggs. Would they sink forever out of sight? Would the future be lost?

Instead the eggs broke open. Marvels poured forth. The yolks joined into the sun and rose up into the abyss. The whites became a silver moon, rising as well. The tiny bits of the shells became the stars, scattered disjointed with the rest of the remains of the three eggs. In a world where only darkness had existed, light was born. It was magic.

Luonntar was changed by the magic, as she dove beneath the surface. Something was calling to her from the depths. It was the mud at the bottom. She grabbed handfuls and swam back to the surface. She molded a cone from the mud upon her belly and placed it on the surface of the river. It rose into the sky and became a mountain.

She dived again and again, returning to the surface to mold more new landscapes. She carved veins of rivers through the land, scooping out lakes. The stars watched in fascination. Inspired, they rearranged themselves into designs. The moon learned out to show its changing face to the earth.

As Luonntar built the land, life burst forth. Plants grew, creatures came to be. All life was the children of the new earth. When the goddess rested at long last and looked at the bright sky, the green foliage, and the lively children, she knew it was good.

((Adlibed from "Wild Girls" by Patricia Monaghan))

#crafts #art #myths

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misiwrites · 3 years

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Beyblade Week Day 4

i'm sorry i'm out here still posting things so late but here's my fourth and final 4kingdoms-verse oneshot for @beybladeweek2021, mostly this is late because i was out of town last week but these prompts were also the hardest to make a oneshot about, somehow i managed to make a quirky little story about max anyway.

this takes place probably somewhere right before the beginning of the main fic, or close to it anyways. and i feel like this needs the small explanation that 4kingdoms max looks a bit different because the north has no sunlight (don’t ask me how that works. it’s fantasy)

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

Fears / Animals / Winter

“Aaugh!”

As patient as Max is, the strange sound of Giancarlo’s sudden scream followed by a soft, barely audible thump of something hitting the floor in the walk-in closet is enough to snap his attention from the game console in his hands. He casts a curious look across his bedroom to witness the striped leg of a plush toy sticking out through the narrow crack of the closet door.

Now he can already tell what has happened. Regardless, he drops the game on the couch and jumps to his feet to see what his knight has gotten himself into in the closet.

“You opened the forbidden door!” Max gloats at Giancarlo, now standing ankle-deep in a sea of plush toys. “I told you the games are in the second from left, not from right.”

“Is this why you call that door ‘forbidden’?” Giancarlo asks, one hand still on the handle of the closet door that the avalanche of toys descended on him from. “I expected something more... I don’t know... scandalous... or personal.”

“This is personal. They’re all mine.” Max crouches over to pick one of the plush toys up, the yellow mascot character of a popular Eastern children’s game franchise. “Oh man, these take me back. I haven’t really seen them since Mama ordered them to be put away. She said I was too old to keep them in my bed. But I refused to have them taken out, so I got this closet for them instead.”

“Aha. I don’t mean to judge your decisions, but I think there’s a few too many for a closet of this size.”

“Well, they fit in just fine before you opened the door like an idiot.”

Max lets his eyes scan the colourful blast on the floor, admiring the chaos of all the scattered shapes of different stuffed creatures, some more nostalgic than others but each and every one so familiar to him; some expensive and store-bought, some hand-made by his father or someone else, he hardly even remembers at this point; it’s been so long since he was gifted these toys, and at least a couple of years since Judy wanted them sealed away.

And then one of them catches his eye over the rest, one that makes his heart skip a beat of bittersweet joy and longing. He tramples and kicks his way past other toys to get to the middle.

It’s a plush dog, one whose tattered, worn-out shape isn’t particularly distinguishable as a dog. It has an elongated body and small stubs for legs, folded ears – well, one ear, as the other has come off and been lost to time – and a small, thin tail that’s also on its way to come off its stitches but is barely hanging on, miserably drooping down from the back of the caramel brown animal that’s so thoroughly covered in dirt and dust that it looks grey. The dog’s black button eyes are intact, at least, and it still has a red little tongue sticking out of its mouth.

Max is momentarily frozen in place staring at the dog. This toy brings back so many memories, some of which threaten to turn his stomach as the long-forgotten anxiety rushes back in one tidal wave, it climbs up the ladder of his spine like an unwelcome visitor from the past; but at the same time, he loves this little dog so very dearly, his childhood favourite.

“Look at these, Your Highness!” Giancarlo suddenly yells, snapping Max out of his thoughts. “Really fitting, aren’t they? Doesn’t it make you think of something?”

Max turns to see his knight holding three plush animals on his arms: a snake, a fox, and a miniature horse. Max does remember all of them, but none were his favourites. They must have been gifts from his earlier childhood, he has no memory of actually getting them or ever feeling particularly attached to them.

“Umm,” he says, “no, not really.”

“Don’t you remember? The fairytale? A guy talks to a fox, a serpent, and a horse...”

“No, can’t say that rings any bells.”

“Really?” An idiotic grin spreads on Giancarlo’s face, the same one he flashes every time he gets to feel smarter than his young king. “It’s a traditional Northern folktale! Each animal represents one fear that the dude has, and he has to face them one by one. Well, I don’t really remember the details, but it was something like that.” He lifts the tiny horse closer to his face, as if to study it more closely – or to face it, to stay true to his own words, Max assumes. “Was the third one really a horse? I think it was. I guess horses can be scary to some people. They’re big animals and all.”

Max rolls his eyes, truly wishing that Giancarlo would shut up for once and clean up the mess he’s caused in the walk-in closet – or just do anything else and leave Max be, to sort out the sudden, fairly uncomfortable onslaught of memories caused by the discovery of his old stuffed dog toy.

Instead, Giancarlo keeps talking, as he always does.

“If there was a story about my fears, it would probably be... hmm... never eating cannoli ever again... and never going on another date...”

“Some incredible fears you have,” Max comments. “Tells a lot about your psyche.”

“And what are you scared of, Your Highness? What would you face if you met this guy? Nei-i-i-igh.” Giancarlo waves the tiny horse at Max, truthfully not the embodiment of terror by any stretch.

“Me? Well, nothing, really.”

“Come on, now, no need to be shy. You can tell the good old Gianni.”

“I mean it – I have my magic, so there’s no reason for me to be scared of anything.” There’s nothing that Max can think of that he wouldn’t be able to shield himself from with his magic powers, especially his ability to turn invisible. If nothing can catch him or do as much as touch him, what reason would he have to be afraid? If anything, he loves the thrill of almost being caught but disappearing out of sight on the last second. Max prides himself in being bold and resourceful, the master of stealth, and the youngest Genbu-ou with the ability to summon the holy beast of Genbu in the known history of his kingdom.

As long as he has his magic and the golden locket of Genbu around his neck, he cannot think of anything that could cause him fear; and as the king, he can have all the materia he could ever want, so he never needs to worry about running out of cannoli pastries or whatever else.

“Okay then, tough guy,” Giancarlo snorts. “And what’s that you got there?”

Max’s gaze returns to the dog on his arms. It stares back at him with its pitiful button eyes, black and lifeless.

“This used to be my favourite,” he replies, finding the words coming out of his mouth with slight hesitation. “Papa made it for me...”

“Oh? Prince Tarou knows how to sew stuffed animals? Well, I guess that makes sense, since he’s such a talented craftsman – but still... It’s hard to imagine a burly man like him making something like... that thing.” Giancarlo forces down an obvious cackle, raising a hand to his mouth to hide his amusement. “I mean...”

Max knows what he means, the puppy with a hot dog-like physique is a pathetic sight, but he cannot help feeling just a little insulted by Giancarlo laughing at it. This puppy brought him so much comfort during a time of turmoil, and it was specifically made by his father for that very purpose. Tarou most likely stitched it together over a single night all those years ago.

“You mean what?” he challenges the royal knight, his tone arrogant.

“Uh... Well, you know... Oh, never mind.”

* * * * * *

When he was younger, Max had no objections over his sheltered life in the Snow Glory Palace, as it never even occurred to his child’s mind that it could be anything but; and the thought only came to him as he entered the rebellious years of puberty and by the questionable ideas that his whimsical knight planted in his head, the thought that it would be exciting to sneak out of the palace every once in a while and wander around the royal capital out of sight.

Max has always been adored by commoners, as the only son of their beloved (by now former) king, the strong yet beautiful and hauntingly intelligent Mizuhara Judy, the only female Genbu-ou of their lifetime; and as much as Max loves the attention and savours the constant awareness of his status of importance that doesn’t escape anybody in his kingdom, he’s equally entertained by the idea of walking among all these people on a lower social ladder without their knowledge, freely entering spaces where his appearance would normally cause a considerable brouhaha. The complete control over whether he’s perceived or not gives him a great amount of satisfaction.

And, most importantly, his ever-so-predominant mother has no idea about it happening right under her nose. As much as Max loves his parents, like any teenager, he has an innate need to break free and seek independence from them, do as he pleases without their scrutiny, without any adult paying attention to him...

at least sometimes.

How many times has he traversed the narrow streets of the ancient royal capital, heard the snow crunch under his shoes without anyone seeing it’s the young king leaving a trail of footprints on the ground covered in white? And when the snow is quietly falling from the sky, the shield of magic around him reflects his surroundings, camouflaging him from other people’s line of sight, he blends perfectly into the arbitrary dance of the snowflakes in the dark.

Then, sometimes, when he finds a suitable corner or shade or hideout for himself, he plans a delicious little display of seemingly appearing out of nowhere into the spotlight. And all the attention is once again drawn to him.

It’s borderline addicting, that calculated spectacle, the thrill of a surprise and act of rebellion that Max is perfectly aware he’s not allowed to do. That his ice queen of a mother would be absolutely furious if she knew.

Now he’s again walking down a cobblestone street, the stone fence of a cemetery on his right-hand side. There’s a layer of powdery snow on the stone, like the icing of a sugar cake.

A cake, oh, a cake sounds excellent to him; and he’s now across a bridge, and the familiar sight of a cosy little coffee shop greets him some feet away. It has a sign outside, a metallic one, shaped like a kettle that’s hanging above the entrance, the shop’s name written on it in cursive.

Max walks over to one of the shop windows and takes a peek inside, bathes in the golden light coming from the other side of the glass. As expected, nobody pays him any attention, none of the people sitting around the lovely little tables inside see him.

He’s ready to be seen, however, and decides to step inside, greeted by the ring of a bell attached to the coffee shop’s door.

“Good evening!” he says cheerfully upon his entrance, flashing a wide grin to everyone in the shop.

People turn to stare at him. Nobody is smiling back at him.

“Er, good evening,” replies the person working behind the counter. Their voice is polite but wary, they stare at Max like everyone else in the shop, with an expression of wide-eyed confusion.

This is not what Max expected. Where are all the delightful gasps, all the “Oh, Your Highness!” and “It’s the young king!” and “This is such an honour!” – all the surprised smiles and the rush to be the first to shake hands with him? He darts some quizzical glances around the shop, eyebrows raised, but his grin remains.

Maybe he’s come here a few too many times. He should have gone somewhere new instead, not the closest place he could think of.

A bristly feeling that he’s very much not used to suddenly spreads all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes: embarrassment. He’s embarrassed that his magic trick failed, the trick he was so confident in, so proud of.

He needs to get out of here.

And the next moment, he’s walking down a different street, this time in the heart of the city of Resting Palace. The lights here are so bright that they illuminate the black sky and give it a hue of light purple instead, almost a dirty tone, it looks dusty and devours the stars and even the Moon.

He’s walking past numerous people, but nobody turns to look at him. Nobody does as much as grant him a smile of acknowledgment, no faces light up with recognition when he passes by.

He stops to stand in the middle of the street. Someone immediately bumps into him from behind.

“Oh, sorry,” the stranger says and hurries away without looking at him. He doesn’t even have the time to say it was his fault for stopping so abruptly.

Max turns on his heels, lets his eyes wander aimlessly in the scenery. There’s a hotel to his left. There are people everywhere, but none of them are looking his way.

Now another person bumps into him. This is an older man, staggering on his feet and visibly losing his balance for a moment, and he turns to stare at Max with a sullen face.

“Hey, kiddo,” the man groans, “stop blocking the walkway, will ya?”

Max only stares back, not knowing what to say or think. Kiddo? What is this? Why is this person talking to him like this? He’s so dumbfounded by this behaviour that he simply hangs his mouth open without making a sound. Nobody in his entire life has acted this way towards him, and it’s making his blood run cold under his heavy cloak.

On a bewildered whim, he suddenly turns to whoever is passing by his left-hand side on that very moment. “Did you hear how that person talked to me just now?” he asks the passer-by. “How dare he?”

The person he’s talking to casts him a look of utter confusion. He can immediately tell this person doesn’t recognise him, either.

“No, I’m sorry,” the person mumbles hastily and hurries away. Max stares after their disappearing back.

What is happening? What is happening? How could this possibly be happening to him? Now panic is seeping into his heart, he arbitrarily grabs the sleeve of whoever happens to pass by him next.

“Excuse me,” he says breathlessly, “you know who I am, right? Right?”

Another astonished stare, but at least this passer-by is polite. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. Are you perhaps lost?”

“No!” Max’s words now escape as a desperate eruption of discomfort, “I’m the king! The Genbu-ou! Don’t you recognise your king?!”

The stranger’s expression changes slightly – to that of pity, to Max’s horror.

“I’m sorry, boy, I don’t have time to play around with you,” the person says, and the next moment he’s gone.

Max spins around, glancing wildly in every direction, looking for anybody who recognises him. This is the royal capital, isn’t it? It definitely is, he knows the exact street he’s on, but for some reason nobody knows him, he’s only a mile away from the Snow Glory Palace and nobody knows that he’s the king, how could such a bizarre thing ever happen?

“I look like the Genbu-ou, don’t I?” he asks yet another stranger, this time a younger person, a teenager just like him.

The person stops to stare at him, evaluates him with her eyes for a moment, as if she has to think about it first.

“I guess you do,” she finally says, “a little. But Genbu-ousama has spots of black in his hair and skin as clear as snow.”

What? What?

Max drops down to his knees into the snow and now he’s on the riverbank; he hauls his shaking self closer to the aquamarine glow of the water, and he crouches over to look down at his own reflection on the surface.

His hair is yellow like the Sun, bare, the splashes of black brush strokes gone. But his face – his face is covered in something – small dots everywhere, his skin is infested with them, they spread from the centre, the bridge of his nose, in every direction on his skin, he lifts his hands to his face and—

* * *

He opens his eyes. The ceiling of his bedroom is covered in cotton candy clouds of pink and purple, they rotate ever so slowly around the axel of the chandelier in the middle, with stars blinking in and out through the veil.

He rolls over in the four-poster bed that feels like an entire ocean to him. The pillow under his head is wet, it feels gross and he grabs it with two tiny hands, tosses it away as hard as he can and it lands on the edge of the bed. It knocks a couple of his plush toys to the floor.

He can hear voices from behind the bedroom door. It’s Mama and Papa, they are yelling at each other again.

Max rubs his tear-stained eyes and crawls out of bed, wrapping his enormous blanket around him like a cape, he drags it along across the carpet as he makes his way to the door. He stands on tiptoes and opens the door as softly as he can.

He makes his way to the hallway’s railing just in time to see his parents walk into his view downstairs. They’re not yelling anymore but still arguing, in quiet voices now, Max can tell they are spewing arrows of poison at each other even if he can’t make out the words.

He’s staring through the narrow hole in the railing as Papa spots him, it’s probably a subtle sniffle that gives him away up there.

Seconds later, Papa has climbed the stairs and has knelt down to talk to Max in a voice that’s meant to be soothing but is seeping with recently suffocated agitation, and it makes him uneasy.

“Are you having trouble sleeping again, buddy?”

“I don’t want Papa to go away,” Max says, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his orange sleeping gown.

Papa gives him a lopsided smile, pats the top of his head. “I’ll come visit you often, I promise. And – this is only temporary, okay? I will keep talking to Mama, and maybe I’ll be back home in a couple of moons. Papa will bring you lots of presents then, but for starters...”

Now something appears from behind Papa’s back, he’s holding a plush toy dog that has a silly face with a tongue drooping out, its body so long that it nearly matches Max’s height. Papa hands it over to him.

“I made this for you, to help you sleep better. I call it Sleepy, but you can call it whatever you want.”

Max stares down at the dog’s face. It has plain black buttons for eyes, and a third one for a nose.

He presses his own little nose against the button, immediately smearing the dog in the snot and tears of a six-year-old.

“Take me with you, Papa,” he says, the words muffled against the dog’s snout. “Don’t leave me alone.”

“You won’t be alone, Max, Mama will be here.”

“She’s always working, she never pays attention to me.”

“That’s not true...”

“I don’t want to be alone, Papa.”

* * *

He opens his eyes. The ceiling of his bedroom is velvet blue, with the silver sickle of a crescent Moon glowing faintly in the night’s silence.

His heart is beating in an anxious rhythm inside his chest. He quickly sits up in the bed, driven by the panic of the lingering terror of his nightmare that makes his fingertips tingle and his stomach turn, and he gasps for air.

It was just a dream. Just a dream.

The momentary urge to rush to his feet, to check that he actually is who he’s supposed to be in the mirror, recedes quickly upon the realisation that he’s in his own bed, in the royal palace, exactly where he should be. He’s covered in sweat, the blankets feel uncomfortably sticky against his skin, he tosses them aside.

Then he notices three shapes in the darkness, sitting at the end of his bed. A row of three plush animals is staring at him from a distance.

A fox, a serpent, and a horse.

#my writing #4kingdoms stuff #LetItRip2021 #iconic that i had to stop in the middle of posting this bc i saw a spider and was too fucking scared to sit down again

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reineyday · 4 years

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geraskier zoom conference hc's based on that 'and they were video conferencing' post

(this has turned into a fic in point-form oops; also it's more pre-slash 'cuz this quarantine is ongoing and i don't have any specific ideas about how a relationship discussion would go or be handled over zoom haha)

it starts as a group conference call between yennefer and triss and jaskier and geralt probably because yen and triss and geralt run some sort of small business and they need jaskier for something artistic probably (he's a freelancer)

let's say they have some sort of start-up to do with children's education somehow, inspired by ciri, and they want to start a small educational web series and they want music in each episode and so hire jaskier as a composer

geralt is in charge of episode content because this web series is gonna be about mythology and he has a masters in it and has done a fair amount of traveling for it (and lowkey has been learning about different kinds of myrhs and legends and heroes and monsters all his life alongside swordfighting thanks vesemir)

ANYWAYS at first they just talk about work: geralt knows which myths he wants to talk about and how, but can't quite come up with a good narrative because he has a bad tendency to ramble on about very precise specific details that get boring, and he also doesnt know how to set the tone for children despite having one himself

jaskier suggests they make the show centre around a hero that is a witcher who goes off on adventures meeting all these creatures, and jaskier already has some fun ideas for songs

jaskier thinks geralt isnt very forthcoming but he's clearly interested in the project and there's excitement in his eyes when he says ciri will like something they write together

geralt also gets kind of moody about inaccuracies (like a nerd 'cuz he is one lol), and jaskier thinks it's funny and likes to pull his leg by saying they should just change this detail or that detail and that he's allowed bc he's the composer and he's taking creative liberties

about three zoom meetings in, they decide the witcher should have a horse and jaskier says they should give it a name and geralt says "roach" and jaskier laughs and asks about cockroaches and geralt looks... petulant??? and says there are fish called roach too and he meant the fish, and jaskier feels fond and relents and says yes fine the horse's name is "roach"

the next video call they have, they start talking again about work and jaskier's trying not to focus too much on the fact that geralt has shown up with his hair braided but goodness it makes him look softer with the way it pulls back and some strands of hair escape to frame his face

geralt eventually notices and hmms his questioning hmm (and when did jaskier start distinguishing the difference?) and when jask asks about the braid, geralt's face goes EVEN SOFTER and says ciri can't practice braiding on her friends' hair at school anymore so she practices with him and jaskier's like "well fuck that's it this is it ive never even seen him in person but here we are this is a crush oh shit"

the first time geralt laughs is because in one of their meetings, jaskier decided he was gonna be chill and wear a work shirt but just his boxers with stupid cartoon pizzas on them, amd he feels so comfortsble he forgets he's just wesring his underwrar 'till he gets up to grab his acoustic guitar and geralt sounds like he was startled into laughter and yeah, that's right, he's wearing stupid boxers and he flushes but geralt looks pretty amused and jaskier did that so he's not too embarrassed

halfway through the session after that, where jaskier has given up on slightly professional looking clothes but has committed to wearing something over his boxers at all times, he hears some barking and he sees a german shepherd's nose enter the bottom of the frame by geralt's arm

jaskier is obviously like YOU HAVE A DOG and geralt explains ciri usually plays with him during their meetings but they decided to go earlier that day and when jaskier asks what the dog's name is, geralt pauses and looks a cross between irritated and embarassed and then says "roach"

jaskier laughs and laughs and geralt just looks on stoically and it's not on his mouth but jaskier can see the pout in his eyes, but after he's done laughing, all he says is, "like the fish" and geralt smiles a tiny smile and shakes his head and jaskier's a goner, truly

one day, jaskier is caught on trying to find the perfect wording and chord progression for one of the episodes, and focuses on his guitar and keyboard for a while as he toys with this key and that rhyme, and when he looks up, geralt is in a kitchen putting on tea and mixing something in a pot and it's an hour past when they usually hang up

"you could have stopped me, you know?" jaskier asks, but geralt looks at him and hmms and jaskier feels all warm goddammit

he tells jaskier to go take a break and jaskier obliges and brings his laptop to his kitchen and they kind of just have tea together for twenty minutes before something dings and geralt has to go 'cuz it's dinner time for him and ciri

the next meeting, geralt shows up and his daughter's there in the background and she has hair like geralt's and a sunshine personality the complete opposite of geralt (though they both give off disintguished kinds of vibes)

jaskier is charmed; she's a great cheerleader and a wonderful person to run ideas by especially considering she's the target age group for their show, and when she makes a comment about how she wishes she could play the ukulele she got as a gift two years ago, jaskier brightens up and says he can teach her

now jaskier zoom calls a little earlier so ciri can have a short ukulele lesson before his work meeting with geralt, and it's so nice whenever he hears ciri practicing off to the side or roach barking from out of the frame and jaskier wonders what it would be like to truly be in the house with them

the next meeting after, they go a bit too long again bc they were arguing (well, jaslier was actually pulling geralt's leg some more, to be honest, but he can't help it if that's how he flirts), and ciri shows up and says it's time for food and when jaskier says he'll leave them to it, ciri suggests he just stay on amd they can eat together

geralt doesn't immediately say no and actually seems to be waiting for jaskier's answer so jaskier says yeah okay, and he grabs some food and they all have dinner together and they get to talking and jakier and ciri bond over disney movies and ciri says she wants to watch them together the three of them and yennefer and triss

the watch party happens and over zoom yennefer seems deeply amused the entire time and triss keeps giggling and geralt seems extra annoyed for some reason but jaskier enjoys himself and sings along to the movie and he tries not to imagine sitting right next to geralt on his couch on the side not occupied by his daughter

jaskier wakes up with a headache very close to their meeting time one day, and kind of just opens his laptop while he's lying in bed and opens the window to wait for geralt to start the meeting while he reaches over to get his ukulele 'cuz it's the closest instrument to his bed and the easiest on his brain when it's pounding like this

when he settles back against his headbkard and pillows once more, geralt is looking at him with a frown and asks if he's feeling okay, to which jaskier replies he's fine it's not covid he just gets headaches every now and then and it sucks but he can still compose (and he shakes his lil uke at the camera)

geralt says no he should sleep and when jaskier pouts he says he's going to sit here and wait for jaskier to put down the damn ukulele and drink some water and eat a granola bar and then tuck himself back into bed and he looks all fierce about it while he says it and how can jaskier not lug his laptop around while he does these things and fall a little more in love

eventually it becomes totally normal for jaskier to just hang out for long stretches of time, whether or not they talk about their witcher web series, and they cook together and hang out in their pajamas and jaskier and ciri have their music lessons and their disney nights and geralt even starts getting him to work out during some of their work breaks by doing 8 minuts abs

(jaskier was pretty adamant about not exercising but said he's do it just the one time but after 8 minutes of pain, geralt was flushed and kind of sweaty and said he needed to chamge his shirt anf then just took it off right there on the camera before he walked out frame to grab a new one and jaskier had to rush to pick his jaw off the floor before going to change out of his own sweaty clothes and yeah so he does 8 minute abs with geralt sometimes now)

once, geralt sends him a zoom link for a meeting at 2am on a night when jaskier can't fall asleep (his sleeping schedule's been so fucked since quarantine started) and when jaskier joins him, he looks like hell and he apologizes but when jaskier says he probably won't sleep for another three hours anyways, geralt looks the tiniest bit grateful and asks if they can work so they do, and if jaskier writes a song that's a little more like a lullabye dyring their meeting, and feels like his heart is about to burst when geralt, who'd moved from his desk to his couch, nods off while jaskier softly sings to him, well... jaskier doesn't know what to do with himself after he makes sure geralt is properly sleeping and then leaves the zoom meeting

they work and work and really get to know each other and then, all of a sudden, there are no more songs to be written for their witcher series and jaskier says "that's the last song, i think" and geralt hmms but neither of them hangs up

jaskier bites his lip and says, "i'll see you at the team meeting we'll have with yennefer and triss to wrap up my contract, i guess?"

and geralt says, "you should add me on facebook; we should keep in touch for future projects"

jaskier tries not to feel too bummed out because this is still a connection point and also yay more creative projects with the hot man he is probably definitely in love with and also potentially more money! but he's still a little bummed and then he decides if he's going to feel bummed he should at least do something about it and he says, "i will! you know facebook has video chat too"

and geralt hmms again but there's definitely a smile, and it's even an actual smile! "im aware," he says, and then before he hangs up the zoom call he looks stern and adds, "dont forget about ciri's ukulele lessons" and honestly jaskier wasn't expecting to continue with them but he's relieved they can still keep doing those

he shoots geralt that friend request and sates the need to scroll down his wall by going through geralt's past previous profile photos instead (they're usually of him and ciri and they're adorable)

and then, delight of delights, the next day around when they usually have their meeting, there's a video chat request from one geralt of rivia coming through facebook, and even more delightful: geralt's clearly on his phone and he only waits on the screen long enough to make sure jaskier's there and to give him a quirked eyebrow and a trademark hmm before he turns the camera around and jaskier is treated to an outside view and a walk with geralt and roach via mobile

and thus geralt becomes a fixture of his every day life

#geraskier #rei writes #rei rambles #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #long post

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mordoriscalling · 4 years

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Stay or Sail Away (1/6)

Here comes part one the modern AU fake dating Geraskier fic that I talked about in this post. I’d like to post each part daily. Tagging @geraskier-trashh as requested! :D

***

It’s not that Jaskier has any problem finding someone, thank you very much. It’s just that he’s busy. Busy with concerts and composing, meeting fans at various events, travelling, internet dramas involving Valdo (it’s always fucking Valdo). There’s no time for a relationship, only for occasional one night stands that sometimes that leave him heartbroken because he actually manages to fall in love with someone in the span of a few hours. It’s fine, though. Heartbreak inspires him like little else.

Jaskier's never complained about lack of bed partners, when he seeks them out. He’s charming, after all. Still, the moment he hears “commitment”, he flees. It’s just not his way. Or perhaps he’s never found anyone fascinating enough to commit to; it takes a lot to keep his attention. He wasn’t even looking for someone like that. Not until recently.

His troubles began a week ago, during a phone call with his mum. She reminded him of his father’s 65th birthday party and asked if he would bring anyone with him. This was followed by a series of questions about his love life because, as his mum put it, “you’re 35, Julian darling, and you’re always working so hard! I worry you’ll end up alone”. In order to placate her, Jaskier might’ve lied a little tiny bit about some things. As a result, because of all the twists and turns of the conversation, he made his mother believe he had a fiancé.

A fucking fiancé.

Wanda Pankratz was ecstatic, wishing to know everything about her son’s relationship, but he dodged all the further questions by saying that she would meet his love soon enough. She left it at that but, of course, told half the family about it, if the texts and calls from his sisters and aunts were anything to go by.

Hence, The Post.

It’s a bit pathetic and desperate, Jaskier can freely admit, but he has no other choice. His personal guard Zoltan almost pissed himself laughing when Jaskier asked him to pretend to be his fiancé, and not one of his friends knows anyone who would want to do this. Not even his agent Triss could help him out.

It all drove Jaskier to log on his anonymous Facebook account (he is a pretty big name in the UK; better be safe than sorry) and post in one of the big London groups.

“I need urgent help from someone who’d be willing to act as my fiancé during a family party on February the 24th. The only thing I expect is the ability to sing praises of our love and to compliment my aunts. It’ll take around 4 hours and then we end our relationship. Age from 35 to 40. It’d be great if you knew something about the sea because I intend to introduce you as a sailor who’s never home and afterwards, you die. Can anybody help?”

Since yesterday, the post has got more than a thousand reactions (mostly the laughing one and likes) and hundreds of comments. Many people tagged their friends as a joke, which is not helpful, but Jaskier still scrolls down and down, trying not to let his hope die. Nobody seems to think his request is for real and he’s received no serious offers so far. Then, one of the newest comment threads catches his attention.

Lambert Rivia: Geralt Rivia Destiny!

Geralt Rivia Fuck off

Yennefer Vengeberg Omg 😂 Cirilla Vengeberg-Rivia Eskel Rivia you must see this!

Cirilla Vengeberg-Rivia Yesssss!! This is perfect! ❤️

Eskel Rvia Do it Geralt

Geralt Rivia No.

Intrigued, Jaskier decides to check out these people’s profiles. Lambert Rivia is a handsome red-haired man who wears some kind of black military suit in his profile picture. Looking at his bio, Jaskier already knows why Lambert didn’t volunteer himself – he’s in a relationship. Eskel Rivia is blond, even more handsome than Lambert despite facial scars, and also has a photo in a black suit, together with a white cap on his head. There’s no information on Eskel’s relationship status and Jaskier is intrigued indeed. Yennefer Vengeberg is a terrifyingly beautiful woman who, judging how professional her profile picture appears, must work in some serious profession. Cirilla Vengerberg-Rivia is a lovely teenage girl with white-blond hair. Jaskier reckons she’s the daughter of Yennefer and one of the Rivia guys.

He left the poor Geralt’s profile as the last to look at, but now that Jaskier has seen the rest, he checks this one too.

His jaw fucking drops.

Geralt Rivia is a ridiculously handsome man. His face seems practically unreal because, surely, people as beautiful as Geralt don’t actually exist? The man’s long white hair (which makes no sense considering his apparent age), as well as his brown-almost-golden eyes, only add to his otherwordly, stunning appearance. Double stunning in that black military suit he’s wearing in his profile picture, just like Lambert and Eskel. The suit looks familiar and Jaskier has a nagging feeling he really should know what kind of army it is. Google helps him out and he quickly puts two to two – Geralt, Eskel and Lambert serve for the Royal Navy.

He bursts out laughing.

This is too good.

He wonders what he should to about this. Now that he knows about Geralt’s existence, he can’t really miss the chance of meeting him, however slim. His gut feeling tells him not to let the opportunity slip and well, who is Jaskier not to listen?

When he’s in the middle of debating what to write to the man, his phone pings. There’s a new messenger notification... with Geralt’s name. With a racing heart, Jaskier opens the message.

FEB THE 18TH AT 06:14 PM Hey. Everyone’s telling me to message you and won’t leave me alone. Is your request for real? Please say no

Jaskier chuckles and replies:

Hi! I’m sorry they’re bothering you and I’m also sorry to say that my request is very much for real. I’d be forever grateful if you helped me 😁

To this, Geralt responds with:

They really won’t stop until I agree They think it’s so fucking funny

Jaskier purses his lips, already suspecting this isn’t likely to work out. He'll have to face his loving mum and admit that he lied to her about fucking having a fiancé. She’s going to be so disappointed. At the very prospect, bad mood overtakes him, but he still types what he hopes to be a cheerful answer.

Damn, so sorry mate I won’t push you but, again, I’d totally owe you one if you agree ☺️

What would I get?

Jaskier tries to reason with his hope to calm the fuck down and replies:

Money, or a favour of some sort, I have many connections Could be free tickets to my concerts Even my company for the night 😏 Just whatever you want I really need help

Fuck

For a minute or two, the three dots next to Geralt’s photo disappear, and Jaskier’s hope plummets in a dramatic fashion. Then, more messages from Geralt show up in the chat.

Free tickets seem fine My daughter loves going to concerts She’d like free tickets but I never heard of you

Jaskier starts begging any god out there that Cirilla is Geralt’s daughter. Teenagers make up a large part of his audience (which is great, actually; teenage kids are amazing these days). If she’s a fan, the free tickets are a major bargaining chip.

Well, Julian AP isn’t my stage name I don’t use it on fb

What is it? Your stage name

I’d rather not say here And you must promise me you won’t tell anyone about it too Well, anyone but your daughter

Can you call me? It’s better to talk about this on the phone anyway

Fine.

Jaskier sends Geralt his number and waits for the call. In other circumstances, he’d congratulate himself on getting a man like that to call him so easily, but he’s too anxious. His hands itch for his guitar but he doesn’t get up from his bed. He begins smoothing his hair out with his palms, praying in his mind that Geralt hasn’t changed his mind.

After the agonizing wait of six minutes, there’s an incoming call. Jaskier takes a deep breath and picks up.

“Hello,” says a gravelly baritone voice so pleasant that it sends shivers down Jaskier’s spine.

“Uhm, h-hi, Geralt,” he replies a bit breathlessly, “so, my name’s Julian Alfred Pankratz but I’m known to many as Jaskier.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Jaskier?” Geralt repeats, “the one who sings Her Sweet Kiss?”

Jaskier beams, his chest swelling with pride. “The very same.”

“Fuck,” Geralt growls, “Ciri wants to blast this song whenever we drive somewhere.”

Jaskier laughs. “She would love free tickets to my concerts, wouldn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

Geralt says no more. Jaskier has to swallow down to sop his throat from constricting. “So?” he asks, “Can you do this for me?”

The silence on the other side is deafening and Jaskier doesn’t even breathe until Geralt finally speaks up. “Fine,” he grunts, his tone indicating it’s anything but fine.

Air leaves Jaskier’s lungs in a whoosh, replaced by a flood of such sheer relief that he may as well cry. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he babbles, heady with joy, “Gosh, you’re my saviour!”

“Just don’t tell anyone about this,” Geralt grumbles.

“Not a soul, Geralt, not a soul.”

“Send me the details about when and where and let’s get this over w–”

“No, wait!” Jaskier cuts in, “My family’s very perceptive, they’ll know it’s a ruse. We should plan everything carefully.”

“You’re making me regret this,” Gerlt growls.

“I’m sorry!” Jaskier hastens to say. “Just... at least tell me a bit about yourself?”

Geralt lets out an irritated sigh. “I’m forty, serve for the Royal Navy with my brothers. Eskel’s the nice one and Lambert’s the prick. My ex-wife Yennefer works for the government.” Jaskier actually shudders at this one because he already can picture it. Yennefer seems exactly powerful like that. “We have a daughter,” Geralt goes on, his tone softening, “Ciri. She’s fourteen. We live in London but I’m away often.”

“Oh, lovely,” Jaskier says with a wide smile because, really, this man’s love for his daughter is so clear and endearing, “this is something we can start with.”

“Just make everything up about our relationship and send it to me. I’ll play along.”

“Thank you,” he breathes out, still amazed at his luck. Jaskier is almost high on the success of his ingenious scheme and his obligations are therefore non-existent, so nothing stops him from teasing Geralt. “Though, to be completely honest," he says cheekily, "you don’t strike me as the type to sing praises of our love and compliment my aunts.”

“Hmm,” Geralt replies. It doesn’t sound like a negation. “Yen says I’m not that bad if I try.”

The fondness with which he said Yennefer’s name is a cold bucket of water poured on his enthusiasm. “O-oh, ok,” he stutters out, thrown off-track, “So, uhm, would you be willing to try for me?”

For a moment, Geralt says nothing, then answers, “If you give Ciri an autograph.”

Jaskier laughs out loud. “Not a problem at all! Whatever she wants.” He pauses. “Whatever you want,” he adds more seriously.

Geralt only hmms, in a way that Jaskier’s prone-to-romanticism mind would almost call warm. Silence falls between them but it doesn’t feel awkward somehow. “Have to go,” Geralt says.

“Okay,” Jaskier replies quietly, “Thank you again. I’ll text you, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

After Geralt hangs up, Jaskier huffs out a shaky breath. Deep down, he already knows.

This is going to mess him up.

TBC

Part 2

#myfic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher #modern au #pretend relationship #fake dating #fanfic #let's call this... the Sailor and the Singer AU xD #the Sailor and the Singer AU

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jdeowrites · 3 years

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Baby’s First Book Deal

Sooo… about that YA contemporary I’ve been working on.

(x)

As a young teen, I devoured countless books, TV shows and movies where girls living in fantasy worlds were forced into skin-revealing dresses; where girls in dystopias and apocalypses shed clothes for romantic scenes; where girls in contemporary settings changed into swimsuits for an impromptu swim, all without any warning beforehand. And I couldn’t help but wonder, didn’t they ever worry about their body hair showing? Did they get waxed in between chapters and it just wasn’t worth mentioning by the author? Or was this something that didn’t matter to most people? Or did these girls just not have body hair? I remember reading The Hunger Games and thinking it was a breath of fresh air when Katniss was waxed and plucked to be deemed pretty for the Capitol. Finally it was on the page. So maybe it wasn’t all in my head after all.

But I knew it wasn’t just in my head, because the only other time I saw body hair on femme people was when it was played off for laughs. Understandably, this all really screwed with me growing up. So maybe it’s no surprise that eventually I would decide to write a book about it.

Fast forward to early 2019: I emailed my agent with a couple of new book ideas including: “high school debaters (I used to be on the debate team and there's so much potential drama!) and body hair beauty standards for girls. Possibly both in the same book?”

I held my breath when I sent that. I needn’t have worried; she was really into the idea. I started writing it in June 2019. Which was also the start of what I suspected was going to be a very challenging school year (I was right about that for more reasons than I knew at the time). I did this on purpose because I thought it would be a light, fun book to escape into. I was partially right. It was really fun to write all the high school drama, debating, and romance. It did help me through some hard times. But it was also unexpectedly painful.

Because it was so personal. In order to confront the issue of body hair, I had to confront the shame and stigma and subconscious biases drilled into me my whole life. I had to analyze my own concept of what beauty is, and its significance to a person’s self-worth, their worth in the eyes of others, and how those things overlap. And digging so deep into my own trauma was excruciating. I had to force myself to do it sometimes… and to write it without a filter. There were times that I’d re-read a passage and think, "This is too much. I should tone it down a bit." But those were the times it was most important to me to keep going.

It was March 2020, the early days of the pandemic, when I had a draft I had run by betas and felt good about sending to my agent. I was so nervous. Was the subject matter too cringey? Would it be too unrelatable for most people? Was it even marketable?

Well, my agent loved it a lot. She said it made her cry. Which made me cry. It was just such a relief to know that someone else could identify with this book I had been so honest in, that I had poured some of the most personal parts of my soul into.

We went on submission that summer (for the uninitiated, that means your agent submits your book to editors at publishing houses. AND THEN YOU WAIT.). I had a good feeling about it, but as always I tried to manage my expectations. That didn’t stop me checking my email every 5 seconds but, you know. An effort was made.

We were nearly two months into sub when It Happened. I won’t bore you with the details of my life, but I was in the middle of a 26 hour shift when I got an email from my agent: “Call me!” Is all she said (oh the suspense). I sort of knew at that point. I stared at that email for quite a while, debating whether to wait until the next day when I was off work to get in touch, because as it was I knew I could become busy at any moment. But I couldn’t wait, of course. Patience? I don’t know her. Anyway, I called my agent.

She told me we had an offer, and proceeded to read it out loud. Cue me crying silently in a tiny windowless room. Literal happy tears dripping down my chin as she talked, which has never happened to me before. I didn’t know how to process it. It was a surreal night after that.

Then we let other people who had the manuscript know, and suddenly there were more editors from different houses who wanted to talk! The next week was… a lot. Along with having a series of calls with a bunch of editors, all of whom I loved to pieces, I was also dealing with a 50+ hour work week, prepping for an exam, writing the exam (in the middle of which a preempt offer came in), an 11 hour road trip, and moving to a new city. I’ll probably remember that week for the rest of my life for the utter chaos it was… but hey, it all worked out. (also, funny thing: my deal announcement came out in the middle of a cross-country road trip. publishing stuff only happens when I’m busy, apparently!).

And now I get to say words I’ve only dreamed of: My debut novel will be published in summer 2022 by Viking, an imprint of Penguin Random House! Although it’s been a long time since I received this news, every so often I remember that it’s HAPPENING—that I get to go on this journey of publication, of being a debut author—and it feels brand-new and exciting all over again. There’s so much to look forward to! And I have so many more stories I’m excited to tell.

But I’m glad this book will be my debut. Somewhere along my process of research, writing, learning, and discussing with others, this story changed the way I viewed myself. I had not thought that would happen—I set out to write this story for other people, not for me. But it happened anyway.

My singular hope for my debut novel is that it can do that for someone else. If just one hairy girl picks up this book and understands there was nothing ever wrong with them, everything was worth it. Everything. I hope that happens.

And if not, well, this book has already changed one person’s life: mine.

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#My posts #tgbd

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caiminnent · 4 years

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keep me (on fire) [kylux, rated T]

PROMPT(S): headache/migraine (@badthingshappenbingo, 13/25) & kylux advent on Twitter

SUMMARY: Armitage knew, when he agreed to follow his temporary co-lead Ben back to his tiny flat that first time, that whatever might occur between them would have a natural deadline. He's got no right to desire something more permanent.

None at all.

FANDOM: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy

TAGS: Friends With Benefits To Lovers, Mutual Pining, Hangover, Getting Together, Insecurity, Armitage Hux Has Feelings, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting

2.2K || ALSO ON AO3

He slowly comes to with a solid warmth crushing him half into a soft bed—two familiar things that aren’t supposed to be anywhere near each other.

He jolts awake.

For his part, Ben only rolls over from on top of him with a mumble and starts (or goes back to) snoring—like there’s nothing wrong in this picture. Like it is every day that he rubs himself all over Armitage’s not bumpy mattress and slobbers all over Armitage’s not rock-hard pillows and—and—

Oh stars, he brought Ben home.

Home. The most private of his personal spaces. The one-and-only-one-man’s land. Not even Phasma has been in his flat before; something dire must have happened for Ben to be given the privilege. Whatever that might be. He vaguely remembers sharing a taxi back from the New Year’s Eve party, an arm around his waist keeping him upright, warm breath next to his ear—

Fuck, even thinking hurts. The oblivion of sleep tempts him, the warmth of the bed pulling him in deep. He wants nothing more than to curl under the sheets until his brain stops trying to burst out of his skull and the universe is set to rights again.

Unfortunately, it isn’t all that’s about to burst.

He pushes himself up and out of the bed with a low grunt, a shiver passing through him in the winter chill. Not eager to bumble about for his housecoat, he throws on the first extra layer he can grab off the floor—namely, Ben’s giant jumper. Ben won’t need it under Armitage’s plush duvet.

Outside of the dark cave that is his bedroom, the hallway is lit with that eerie, foggy glow of dawn. These hours don’t find him awake often anymore. Resent as he may the loss of authority that came with a co-lead, having Ben to help shoulder the burdens and irritations of a high-profile project has made for a simpler, calmer life. In the safety of his thoughts, he can admit that once Starkiller is completed and Ben returns to the Coruscant branch where he belongs, their office will feel immensely empty.

He goes about freshening up almost lazily, brushing his teeth until his mouth stops tasting like he licked the floors of First Order clean. His stomach is churning, his headache—pulsing to the same rhythm as the ringing in his ears—reminding him how old he is getting for the scene. To hell with trusting Ben; he is sticking to his wine and the occasional two fingers of whiskey from now on.

It will be weeks before he can even think about having another drink, though.

Next stop: the kitchen. Taking two painkillers, dry, he sits at the kitchen table with a glass of water, sipping at it as the worst of his light-headedness abates. The room brightens around him, slowly and without mercy, a deep ache settling onto his bones as he remains in the same spot too long. His eyes close on their own accord once or twice—his chin dropping onto his chest jerks him awake again.

He isn’t avoiding sleep, exactly; it’s more that he is bloody dreading returning to the bedroom. Ridiculous, he is well aware. This was hardly the first time he’s woken up next to Ben; that it happened—presumably—without sex first or in Armitage’s flat, where Armitage can’t get dressed in the dark and slip out while Ben sleeps on, shouldn’t change anything.

Still, it feels too awkward—too intimate—now. If he returns to the bedroom, he is going to wake up in Ben’s arms, to Ben’s soft smile and mussed hair, and get ideas. Ideas that will haunt him every time he slides under and out of these same covers alone. The calendar already hangs over his head; does he truly need to torture himself further?

Besides, he made his bed, didn’t he? He knew, when he agreed to follow Ben back to his tiny flat that first time, that whatever might occur between them would have a natural deadline—in fact, that was a selling point back then. What right has he got now to sit here and pity himself?

Appalled, he drags himself up and over to the counter. Sleep is obviously off the table; he might as well make himself useful and put the coffee on. It should help with whatever part of his leftover headache is due to caffeine withdrawal.

Except that he can’t, he realises after everything is primed for it, since his coffee maker tends to screech like a hell beast and Ben is still asleep.

Hells. How can one man complicate another’s life so much solely by existing?

“You okay?”

Heart lurching, Armitage pushes away from the counter as if burned. Ben is standing just outside the kitchen with a hand on the doorframe, half-blended into the shadows in his customary black. His bed hair looks as horrible as Armitage imagined, although his lips are curled into a frown, lines visible between his brows.

A cruel, twisted little part of Armitage is glad to see Ben perturbed. It means he isn’t the only one.

“Yes,” Armitage responds belatedly, trying to rearrange his limbs into a semblance of comfortable, if not relaxed. He is still wearing Ben’s jumper, fuck. “Yes, of course. Just—making coffee.”

Ben hums, glancing down at the empty mug on the counter. “Is there enough for two?”

Armitage takes another mug out of the overhead cabinet in answer. Ben brushes against his back on the way to Armitage’s abandoned seat.

They don’t speak as the coffee maker runs—couldn’t hope to, over the sound of it. While companionable silence has never truly existed between them, they hadn’t had this sort of tension tainting the air since the first couple of months after Ben’s arrival, back when Armitage was still unwilling to cede any amount of control over their project. A feeling not unlike foreboding fills him, his limbs heavy with dread.

A crack runs down Ben’s mug—a shallow line on the outside, harmless beyond appearances. Filling them both, he passes Ben the intact one, leaning back against the counter with his hands hiding the defect.

Ben gulps down a good third of the scalding liquid as if dying of thirst before putting it down. Armitage’s throat burns in sympathy.

“Nice place you have here,” Ben says with a slight rasp to his tone, gesturing around with his free hand. “Very… austere.”

Armitage snorts. “You mean unlived-in.” He appreciates Ben’s attempt at tact; but he is under no illusions about the state of his home. The bedroom is where he sleeps and the kitchen is where he spends his waking hours while here; the rest of the flat might as well not exist.

“It’s a little sparse,” Ben admits. “Doesn’t look like you spend a lot of time here.”

It isn’t a question and Armitage doesn’t bother responding. Ben already knows the hours he keeps at the office—they leave together often enough for dinner and other after-hours activities.

Has he got enough food for breakfast for two?

Folding his arms over the table, “I thought you would come back to bed,” Ben says, an odd hesitation colouring the words. Something about the lines of his shoulders, drawn in deep as if trying to hide into himself, makes Armitage’s heart burn. “You were gone a long time.”

How long has Ben been awake? How long has Armitage, for that matter? “I couldn’t sleep,” he lies. “I didn’t want to disturb you with my tossing and turning.”

A corner of Ben’s lips ticks up. “I could help you sleep,” he says, an amused glint playing in his eyes. “Now that we’re sober.”

About that.

“Maybe later,” Armitage hedges, hiding behind his own coffee. It tastes as bitter and dark as his mood. “What happened last night anyway? I’m… missing a few details.” Most of the night, more accurately. Sharing a cocktail table with Ben; two rounds of some bright red concoction Ben swore he would enjoy; the shots; the foolish, foolish desire to impress Ben, who drank like alcohol disappeared in his body…

The bits and pieces he does recall after that point, he’d much rather not have.

“Not much happened. We had some drinks, we talked…” Ben shrugs a shoulder, stiff and jerky. “You got drunk faster than I expected; but you didn’t embarrass yourself or anything, if that’s what you’re asking,” he adds, sending him a quick smile. “You’re a pretty composed drunk, actually. I’m envious.”

That isn’t how Armitage remembers it.

“You said you wanted to go home, so I got you home. I was just gonna help you into something comfortable and leave, honest; but you asked me to stay.” Ben runs his teeth over his bottom lip. “I did.”

That much Armitage could piece together himself. Ben knows how Armitage safeguards his privacy; he wouldn’t have intruded upon it unasked. “And?” Ben frowns in confusion—as if Armitage doesn’t know him enough to tell when he is faking it. He pins Ben with his General Hux stare. “What aren’t you telling me, Ben?”

Flickers of emotions pass through Ben’s face—anger and despair and resignation before it settles on a careful blankness that trembles with all it’s trying to cover. “You said—you asked me to stay forever.”

Blood freezes in Armitage’s veins.

“And you know I’m a fuckin’ idiot,” Ben continues, running a hand through his hair. “And I was a little drunk myself, so I didn’t realise it was the drink talking.” He sends a cautious glance at Armitage. “I promised to stay.”

Forever.

Armitage must be a fucking idiot as well, because his heart soars at the sound of that.

He shakes his head to dispel the wistfulness threatening to blur his vision. “Well, we’d both been drinking. People say things they don’t mean while drunk.” Ben said as much himself. “I won’t hold you to your drunken rambling.”

“That’s just it, though,” Ben says quietly. His expression is difficult to make out; but the look in his eyes—soft and intense—makes Armitage feel paper-thin and seen-through, as if Ben can read every silly thought passing through his head. “I meant every word.”

A fist grips his throat.

He takes a deep, deep breath, his lungs sitting wrong in his chest. In Ben’s guarded tone is a question he doesn’t know how to answer. The thing about their arrangement—it works, because it is casual. Even Armitage can’t ruin something casual—even if it hasn’t been that way for him for quite some time. Even if he gets the occasional, fleeting impression that it might not be for Ben, either. With the days ticking by fast, trying for anything serious would have been like building a house on quicksand.

If he truly asks Ben to stay with him, forever, and Ben listens—they can’t keep it casual after that. That is uncharted territory. What if they start a—a relationship and they can’t make it work? What if Armitage fucks up? What if Ben hates him for it?

What if he becomes Ben’s biggest regret, too?

His palms burn sweetly—he grips the warm mug harder to keep from scratching at them. “I thought you hated Arkanis,” he says, disgusted with how feeble his voice comes out. “Would you uproot your whole life to live here?” Because Armitage asked it of him?

“It has its charms,” Ben says with a crooked smile. “And I uprooted my life when I joined Snoke’s company—got nothing tying me to the Core Worlds anymore. Arkanis is as good a country to live as any.”

Armitage begs to differ. “Would Snoke even let you off your leash permanently?” he asks, half-joking. Snoke’s reliance on his protégé is an open secret; Armitage can’t imagine he would be thrilled to have Armitage steal Ben away.

Ben’s expression smooths over again.

Ice slides down Armitage’s spine. “Ben?”

Ben shifts on his seat, rubbing at his stubble. “Snoke offered me a position here,” he practically confesses, not meeting his eyes. “He wants to build a weapons design department. Separate from engineering. If I said yes, you and I would be working alongside each other as heads of our offices.”

Armitage’s guts unknot. When Snoke mentioned it, he thought Snoke was going to throw three incompetent fools under a new name just to shut Armitage up about it. Under Ben’s lead, a design department would thrive. “What did you say?”

“Nothing yet. Wanted to talk to you first.” Ben flashes him a wild grin that rides the line between excited and panicked. “I mean, it would suck if I accepted the job and you were looking forward to having me gone after Starkiller, y’know?”

Yes, Armitage knows the feeling very well. The part that doesn’t fit is hearing it from Ben’s lips—Ben, who tends to exude an aura of confidence so thick, Armitage feels emboldened merely by standing next to him. Ben, who is quick to anger and quicker to smile; but never, ever to doubt himself.

Ben, who is watching him like his life hangs on Armitage’s next word.

Warmth that doesn’t belong in winter rising in him, Armitage smiles. “You should take the job,” he says, broken pieces slotting into place in his mind’s eye. Not the only one indeed. “Arkanis is a sight to see in the spring.”

#Bad Things Happen Bingo #kylux advent #kylux #Armitage Hux #Kylo Ren #Star Wars #Cai does words #finished fics #just going to rework inches and miles into something new I said #it shouldn't take long I said #I won't work on it longer if it isn't done today I said #I lied

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dreamingsnowflake2013 · 5 years

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When Type witnesses the aching tenderness with which Tharn’s looking at another man and caressing his face, it shatters his heart because he recognizes it - it’s the same tenderness with which Tharn’s been looking at him. Thus, to see Tharn comfort someone else the way he so often comforted him hurts Type more than anything he previously experienced. Tharn is his first love and, as he himself admitted several times, he can’t imagine himself ever being with anyone else but Tharn. He can’t bear to share Tharn and his love with anyone else. What Type feels in this moment is much more than a simple jealousy, it’s sheer and unadultered heartache. There is a myriad of emotions which appear on Type’s face in that moment - shock, disbelief, denial, sadness, anger, jealousy, heartache - and Gulf Kanawut brilliantly conveys all of them. It’s as if the emotional pain transformed into a physical one, paralyzing him, crippling him to the point he’s unable to move; as if there were a literal knife piercing his heart.

It says a lot about Tharn’s kindness and goodness that both Tar (who after his rape has problems tolerating other people’s touch) and Type (who couldn’t even tolerate a gay in his vicinity for 7 years ) are drawn to him. He’s so gentle, functional and unthreatening, yet strong, that he’s like a balm to their lost souls.

Type knows that Tar is special, the only ex Tharn actually mentioned in detail several times and, at this point, Lhong has used Type’s love for Tharn against him, twisting the truth into something ugly, making Type feel insecure. And as perceptive as he is, Type can see that Tharn and Tar share a past he isn’t a part of and the one thing Type can never compete with is a memory, because a memory is immortal. What adds to his suffering even more is how utterly different Tar is from him. Artistic, pale, small and tiny, fragile and gentle, he is everything Type can never be; he’s Type’s complete opposite. This is the man Tharn wrote love songs for and for whom he proclaimed his love in front of everyone in P’Jeed’s bar. What if Tharn realizes he prefers Tar? What if he loves more? All these doubts assault him.

While I was watching this scene of Type watching Tharn and his ex-lover from afair, appearing like an intruder on a private moment, I remembered how San told Type that he never got the chance to love Tharn properly and I suddenly realized how close Type came to sharing San’s heartbreaking fate. MAME said it herself, if Tar and Tharn never broke up, there would be no TharnType because once Tharn loves there is no one else for him. He would have never stopped loving Tar, but you just know that Type would have fallen in love with Tharn and his gentleness anyway. Even though Tharn might not have touched him intimately, he would still help him with his nightmares and that Facebook debacle, he would still be kind and tender and understanding. Type would have become the one loving him from afar, watching Tharn giving to another man all the love Type could never have. One small change and Type would have become the most tragic character of them all, but love is about timing and, in the end, Type got his chance(s) at love. Chances he almost squandered because of his temper, pride and recklessness, that’s why he doesn’t throw a jealous fit in the bar and waits for Tharn in their home, that’s why he never brings up the word “break-up” no matter how livid and angry he gets. He’s learned his lesson.

However, that wait is painful. Sitting alone in the dark, being on pins and needles, worried when will return and what happened in the time between him and Tar since he left the bar; all his doubts and insecurites are gnawing at him. And then Tharn comes and lies straight into Type’s face. It triggers him and makes him afraid even more because how much must the other boy mean to his lover when Tharn, who’s always been so straightfoward brutally honest with Type, keeps lying because of him? He’s lying because he doesn’t want to lose Type but that lie is the final drop in the whole week filled with lies and Lhong’s twisted half-truths. Type is sick of this insecurity and uncertainty and all the lies, he wants to finally hear the truth. Lying to someone who can even tell the difference between the various ways Tharn smiles was a fool’s errand from the start.

Type knows him so well and trusts him so much that deep down he knows Tharn would never cheat on him and sleep with anyone else; however, this goes beyond the physical, this is about emotional faithfulness. It’s about the ownership of Tharn’s heart and Tar’s place in it becaues Type can’t imagine sharing it with anyone else, he can’t bear for anyone to be loved by Tharn or own even the tinies place in Tharn’s heart, the heart he’s given to Type. Tharn has truly become the center of Type’s universe and Type wants Tharn to feel the same way and swear to him that there is no else for him but him.

It’s hard to imagine how much courage, trust and love it must take for Type to tell Tharn that he’ll believe everything he says, despite all the lies and deception of the past week. He wants, no, NEEDS Tharn to deny that he has any sort of feelings or attachment for Tar, but when he doesn’t, there is a combination of panic, sheer horror and realization in Type’s eyes. Tharn doesn’t want to lie to him anymore, it’s only natural he has residual feelings for Tar because he never got any closure or explanation why he was left behind, but Type’s hurting so much right now. He can’t even bear to hear Tar’s name mentioned by Tharn in the room they share, as if it were filthy, as if it dirtied their home. Type is basically telling Tharn that the other man doesn’t belong into this place which belongs only to them. It’s mine and yours, not anyone else’s.

At Techno’s, Type finally falls apart completely, the first time since the moment he told his future lover about his dark past, but this time there is no Tharn who would hold him tight and wipe away his tears. He is sitting in the darkness of their room, on the empty bed, touching the empty space left behind by Type.

They are so tragic and freaking perfect for each other, it’s unreal. What guts me the most is the little detail when Tharn touches the empty space on the bed, but he isn’t lingering on Type’s pillow but on the middle of the bed because that’s where Type always sleeps, not on his own side of the bed but as close to Tharn as physically possible. So these two people who can’t bear to be separated even in their sleep and are used to spend every night with each other are now apart. It’s no wonder they look so lost and devastated - they are incomplete, missing their other halves.

#tharntype #tharntype the series #mew suppasit #mewgulf #analysis #ttepisode10

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redcameleon · 4 years

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SSM 2020 Day 18

Prompt: Curses

Summary: Every time Sakura had gone to a blind date, she always got stood up, as if she was cursed to never find the right one. But things might just turn around when she met a certain man.

Rating: K+. some curse words.

A/N: Rewrote this day’s prompt because the story I had written didn’t really feel right with the prompt.

Today will be different! I’m sure of it.

Sakura thought to herself as she arrived at the restaurant. The waitress escorted her to a table for two before pouring her a glass of water.

“I’ll order later. I’m still waiting for someone.” The waitress nodded and left to attend to a nearby table.

It was the fifth blind date she’d ever gone to, and she’s hoping, praying, that it won’t end the same way the other four did.

Fifteen minutes passed, and she’s trying her best to not be pessimistic. It’s only been fifteen minutes since their arranged meeting time.

Thirty minutes passed, and the hope of this guy actually showing up was starting to dwindle.

An hour and a half passed. By then, the waitress had swung by her table five times, and soon enough, she would have to be kicked out for just sitting there without ordering anything.

“That’s it.” Sakura had had enough. She stood up and left a few bills to compensate for her time there before exiting the building.

“Stupid date.” She murmured to herself. The night air seemed colder than usual, or was it perhaps because of her sullen mood? She couldn’t tell. She walked pass a bar, and convinced herself she deserved a drink or two. Oh what the heck. Tomorrow’s Sunday anyway.

She walked in and sat herself on one of the stools by the bar, a glass of martini accompanied her. She kept staring at the glass, tracing her finger around the rim.

“Rough night?” The bartender commented. Sakura could guess that her face gave it all away.

“Sort of. Got stood up on a date.”

“Ouch, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s only the fifth time it’s ever happened to me. No big deal. I’m probably cursed at this point and I’ll never find anyone.” The blonde bartender could tell she would need more than a glass to feel better tonight.

“You know what, this one’s on me.” He placed a glass in front of her. The color looked peachy red, but she couldn’t exactly tell what’s inside.

“What is this? Are you trying to take advantage of my wallows?”

“Oh no no, don’t worry this is my special concoction. I call it the break up make up. I put in some cherries, mango, lemon, and vodka. And don’t worry I’m not trying to drug you.” Sakura chuckled at his comment. She figured if this was supposed to make her feel better, then there’s no harm in trying.

She took the glass and tried a sip.

“Hm, not bad. I like the lemon you added in there.” The bartender smiled when he saw that her mood had lightened up a bit.

“The name’s Naruto, by the way.”

“Sakura. Nice to meet you.” Sakura couldn’t keep track of how long she was there, conversing with Naruto. But she didn't stop at her second glass. She kept ordering more, hoping that the bitter drink would get rid of the bitterness in her heart. Naruto was starting to get worried by the time she had her fifth glass.

“Hey, you should probably take it easy with the alcohol.”

“What do you mean?” Her words were starting to come out a bit more slurred. She’s definitely drunk. Naruto thought.

“Okay that’s enough, I’m not giving you anymore drinks.” Naruto took away the glass in her hand and threw away whatever’s left in there.

“Aww but I was just getting started!” Sakura was beginning to throw a tiny fit. Working at a bar, Naruto had seen countless number of people getting drunk, and doing stupid things they would regret.

“Do you have friends you can call to pick you up?”

“Hm? Friends? Sure.” She took out her phone and dialed her best friend Ino. The tone kept ringing for a while, but no one was picking up. To be fair, it was three in the morning.

“Tch. No answer.” Shit. Defeated, Sakura plopped on the table. Just when Naruto was starting to run out of ideas, his best friend decided walked into the bar. Naruto spotted him right away and started waving at him.

“Ah Sasuke! Right on time! I need your help!” Sasuke approached the bar and gave him a confused look.

“Help me get her home safely.” Naruto pointed at Sakura, who’s moments away from blacking out.

“What? Why should I?” To be fair, this was a complete stranger, who was drunk, and Naruto wanted him to ensure she gets back home safely? He probably didn’t even know where she lived.

“She just had a rough night and drank too much. I’m worried for her. Please.” Naruto pleaded. Of course, Naruto being the saint that he was, he wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.

Sasuke didn’t exactly have the best night, either. He kept staring at Naruto, trying to win this staring contest that he knew eventually he would lose to.

“Please? I’ll buy you dinner next time.”

“Tch fine.” Sasuke tried waking Sakura up, to see how much she could actually function.

“Who is it? Are you my date?” Sasuke got flustered hearing her question. He eyed Naruto with a look equal to, what the fuck is she saying?

“Oh she just got stood up on her date tonight.” Sasuke didn’t even want the details. He tried shaking her again.

“Here let me take you home. Where do you live?”

“Go away! I don’t want to see anybody!” She buried her face deeper in her arms. Sasuke sighed. They’re not going anywhere at this point, and it’s almost closing time. It seemed that she was too drunk to even comprehend his question. At this point, he was starting to lose his patience.

“Fuck this.” He swung her arm around his shoulder, and guided her outside. She staggered a bit before he was able to properly prop her.

He couldn’t leave her on the streets like this, but he didn’t even know where she lived. Without a destination, there was only one option for him.

He swung his arms, calling for a taxi to come pick them up. When a vehicle arrived, he opened the door, gently helped Sakura sit on one side, and closed the door before getting in the taxi from the other end. He instructed the driver and they were on their way.

The drive home wasn’t terrible. Sakura had calmed down a lot, and was no longer flailing or saying incoherent words. Thank God.

The taxi pulled up in front of a tall apartment building not far from the bar. Sasuke helped Sakura get out of the car and up a flight of stairs and up the elevator to the tenth floor. He struggled to get his keys out from his pocket as his other hand was preoccupied trying to keep Sakura upright. He finally managed to open the door and plopped Sakura on the bed.

Sasuke was at a lost as to the kind of trouble Naruto had put him into. The night hadn’t been perfect for him either, he just found out that his brother had been admitted to the hospital, and now to add into his troubles, there’s a girl who’s completely out of it, sprawled on his bed.

He did what any decent person would do, he took of her shoes, positioned her head comfortably on the pillow, and covered her with a blanket. He set a glass of water on the bedside table before closing the bedroom door behind him. He’s had a long night, and frankly, he’s ready to fall asleep anywhere.

He plopped himself on the couch and decided to get some shut eyes. Tomorrow would surely be interesting.

Sakura slowly peered her eyes open. Sunlight was trickling in from the blinds. Sakura stretched a bit, mind still blurry as to what happened the night before. The last thing she remembered was seeing a handsome dark-haired man standing over her. She tried to take in her surroundings before she realized, this is not her own place.

She jumped from the bed and took the covers off. All clothed. She looked around the room but failed to find any identity as to who this room belonged to. She could see a desk with some books spread on it, no photo frames, no posters. The room could easily be one of those rooms displayed in furniture stores. She saw a glass of water with a note next to it,

Drink. No poison.

She chuckled a bit. I guess she should trust whoever this person was, after all they brought her here safely. She took a few sips before downing the whole glass, her throat seemed awfully dry and hoarse. She felt like her head was about to be split in half as the hangover started to kick in. She tried to stand up and stuck her ear to the door, trying to hear any evidence of life outside the room. She heard some metal clanging and assumed that whoever this person was must be awake.

She slowly opened the door and peeked through the tiny slit. The man was standing in front of the stove, cooking something. Sakura could feel her stomach growl when the smell reached her nostrils. She debated whether she wanted to greet this stranger and thank him, or she should just bail out of there as quick as possible. She found her purse on the bedside table and grabbed it before gently opening the door just wide enough for her body to squeeze through. She thought the sizzling sound should be enough to conceal her noises. Tiptoeing ever so slightly, she headed towards the entrance.

After just a few steps, the man spoke, “You’re awake.” Sakura froze in place and when she didn’t say anything else, he turned to look at her.

She was a bit surprised to see that the man standing in front of her was indeed the man she last saw that evening.

“Wait, you were at the bar last night!” Waking up in a stranger’s apartment and that’s the first words she said.

“Hn. Have a seat.” He motioned her to sit on the dining table. She thought her plan to escape had been compromised. At least, she could take his offer and put some food into her system. She just realized the last time she had eaten anything was before she went out to go on the blind date, which was a bad idea after all.

She set aside her purse on a chair before taking a seat at the dining table. She could see he’d two sets of utensils and two glasses of water. He placed a bottle of Tylenol next to her glass. He knew all that drinking would result in a dreadful hangover.

“Thanks.” She opened the bottle and popped a pill or two into her mouth. I should really stop drinking. She thought to herself. The man brought a bowl of soup and placed it in front of her, then proceeded to put some eggs and sausages on to his plate.

“Umm about last night.” Sakura didn’t even know where to start. She didn’t know if she should apologize first or thank him. She settled for the apology first.

“I’m so sorry I got you into this. I had too much to drink and I didn’t really have no one with me at that time. I’m so sorry I’ll make it up to you!”

“Hn. Just eat.” He started digging into his food. He barely spared a glance at her. She figured, he must be annoyed at her.

“Thank you. For keeping me safe.” She tried the soup and it was honestly the best thing she’d had since last night. They focused on their own meals, eating in silence, mostly out of courtesy for Sakura. She had a million questions. Who is he? Why did he bring me here? What does he want?

After they finished eating, he grabbed her bowl and his plate and placed them in the sink.

“Naruto told me to take you home, but I didn’t know where you lived, and you were too drunk to tell me.” He finally managed to explain to her.

“Oh..” She slapped herself mentally. Stupid Sakura, you should know better than to drink that much by yourself!

She glanced at the clock. 11AM. Oh shit! She was late to a breakfast appointment with Ino she had completely forgotten about.

“How do I make it up to you?”

“It’s fine.”

“No please, let me.” She grabbed a piece of paper and a pen laying around and started writing down her phone number.

“I’m sorry I can’t stick around, but here’s my number. I promise I’ll make it up to you! I hope I’ll see you again.” I don’t,Sasuke thought. One encounter was enough for him.

She grabbed her purse and hurriedly put on her shoes.

“I’m Sakura, by the way.”

“Sasuke.” He thought she deserved to know the name of the person who saved her.

“Thank you, Sasuke.” She opened the apartment door and left, leaving a click sound when the door shut behind her.

Fate had a funny way of thinking, and little did they know, their little encounter was only the beginning.

to be continued?

*A/N: I’m thinking of turning this into a multichaptered story. Let me know what you guys think! Feedback is always welcome.

#ssff #ssfanfiction #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku #sasuke #sakura #otp #redcameleon!writes #ssm20 #ssm20d18

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kauriart · 4 years

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Sunshine in the Dark Chapter 5: Slake

A NSFW Dragon Age fic | Alistair x Bethany | Read it on AO3

The Wardens bed down for the night in twos and threes. Almost no one is left alone, and those who are, prefer their own company.

Alistair sets up their bedrolls as he has every night, a little apart from the others, and a little apart from each other. Then he stands over the bedding a moment, expression thoughtful before kneeling and sliding the rumpled quilts closer together, until the ends overlap and it’s one big space for the pair of them. He gives her a wide, sheepish sort of grin that makes her heart flip several times over.

They clamber in together, dressed and damp, into the little space they've built for themselves, and Bethany leans in towards Alistair, and he curls himself around her, pillowing his head against her breasts.

His hair is still damp at the back of his head, and she cards her fingers through the short spikes with a sigh, trying to remember when she’s been happier. It’s almost absurd. Here, down in the dark, hungry and cold and blurry with exhaustion; she is happy.

“And I don’t even know your last name,” she whispers almost to herself.

Alistair runs a hand over his face, barely visible in the darkness. “Technically I don’t have one,” he says after a long moment. “And it doesn’t matter anyway. You give up who you were when you join the Wardens.”

Bethany closes her eyes. What she gave up was everything. Her mother. Her brother. Even Gamlen with all his faults and flaws was family, and he'd taken them in when they had nothing.

And yet—

her heart gives a happy bump bump

—she found Alistair.

She found love.

Extraordinary.

“I almost didn't go with my brother, you know,” she says quietly. “Garrett… he wanted Aveline. He already had a mage in Anders, but no warriors.”

Alistair reaches over silently and takes her hand, holding it between his palms, thumbs stroking against her knuckles. It feels good enough that Bethany’s breath catches a little.

Just a little.

“I asked to go with him," she continues. "I was a brat about it actually. I thought… Carver would have been with him, if he could.” Her voice breaks a little on her twin’s name, but she pretends it doesn’t.

“He shouldn’t have let you go,” Alistair croaks. “He shouldn’t — Maker Beth, the Order is meant for people who have nothing else left. It shouldn’t. You had — have a family. People — a mother and brother who love you. It just isn’t — you shouldn’t have to give them up. You shouldn’t have to give anything up. You should have all the things people are supposed to have, Beth. Every one of them.”

He is so absolutely indignant that Bethany smiles. “What are people supposed to have?”

“A home,” he says promptly, “with a roof and windows, and a lock on the door. A proper bed, with a wood frame and extra quilts and everything. Wood stacked to the ceiling so you’d never be cold.” He takes a breath, and some of the indignation wears away from his voice. “Chickens maybe. Somewhere. Probably not in the house. Children. One or two perhaps. Probably have to keep those in the house.” He folds both his hands around hers, voice solemn. “And a… a garden. With flowers growing in it. Yellow ones, and the other kinds that smell nice. And just — food, and warmth, and safety, and family, and a future, Beth.” his voice cracks on the word.

Bethany’s heart clenches. It’s Alistair who dreamed of home, and family. She only ever dreamed of not having magic.

“You should have those things too,” she says.

“I was never going to have those things, Beth,” he says quietly. “The Order gave me more than it ever took. Purpose. Friendship. A place to belong.” His fingertip traces over the curve of her jaw. “Love.” The word is all quiet hesitancy.

“It gave me love too,” Bethany whispers back, and brushes a lock of damp hair off his brow.

His answering smile is small, but blinding and full of wonder. He kisses her forehead, and the tip of her nose, and then her lips, tenderly. "Say that again," he breathes against her mouth.

"I love you," she says between kisses. “I love you, love you, love you.”

Alistair kisses her through the blur of I love yous. Until each word is little more than a gasp of breath. He kisses her jawline, and her neck, and works his way down to her collarbones. He kisses her bare shoulders, and the slopes of her breasts, thumbs brushing at her nipples through the fabric of her tunic.

Something warm and syrupy stirs in the cradle of her hips.

Something bright, and eager.

"I haven't your excuse, Beth but…"

"But?" Something about Alistair's touch makes it difficult to focus on anything else. Maybe because it’s slow, and teasing, and he’s got his knee slotted between her legs. Or maybe it’s because her mana has been creeping back, and with it, the effects of joining. That hollow need that’s all heat and bottomless hunger.

The tips of her fingers tingle.

Alistair chuckles, the sound of it muffled against the fabric of her tunic. “But if you’d like… I’d very much like… to make love to you, Beth. Er… probably more than once,” he adds, cheeks coloring faintly.

“I want—” she cuts herself off with a frown, uncertain. That word has held them apart from one another for so long. And she's half afraid that if he knows it’s back—

“Hey,” Alistair says, curling his hand around her cheek. “I want, too.” He tucks a stray curl behind her ear. “So much. For so long.” His thumb catches her lower lip, teasing a smile out of her. He presses a kiss to her lips. "I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"I do." And there's something there, a seriousness edge in his voice she’s so rarely seen. He swallows hard enough that she can see the bump in his throat wobble. “I love you, Bethany Hawke.”

His smile is tiny, all tremulous at the edges.

Hers is as bright as the sun.

She grabs his ears and pulls him down for a proper kiss. One that’s all breath and joy and swallowed giddiness and swallowed laughter.

“Bethany,” he husks. “Beth…Maker, Beth," and kisses her some more.

His mouth drifts down, across her jaw, pressing a line of teasing bites down her throat and the deep neckline of her tunic. One of his hands is at her breast, the other carefully crumples the fabric of her tunic into his fist, slowly inching it upwards. He skims his touch across her bare flank with a sound so full of wonder that she knows she’ll remember it for the rest of her days, and slides his body lower, planting an open-mouthed kiss against her stomach.

The faint stubble on his chin rasps, and she shivers at the sensation.

"Ticklish?" Alistair asks, delighted. He scuffs his face against her deliberately, just to be certain, and she writhes against him with a soft, swallowed laugh. “Oh,” he breathes.

He kisses her belly again, very carefully, and continues his slow, teasing journey down down down her skin, until he reaches the waistband of her breeches. He tugs at the laces with his teeth, and grins up at her. And Bethany’s heart does a ridiculous sort of flip that has little to do with the white hot flare of heat in her loins.

He uses his teeth to get her laces undone — nearly snarling them into a knot in the process — but he uses his hands to work her breeches and smalls off her hips. Inching them down as a bright flare of desire breaks out across her skin like a heatwave. He leans forward, breath gusting across bare skin and Bethany cannot stop a tiny sound of need from escaping her.

Alistair’s mouth quirks up into a lopsided smile as he nudges her thighs apart, slinging one knee over his shoulder. “May I?” he asks breathlessly.

She swears roundly, in desperate affirmation, and cants her hips up towards him.

Alistair chuckles, and bends to his task.

His mouth is wet heat. All suction and sensation and the deep, approving growl that thrums in the back of his throat like thunder. And it’s—

She grabs at his head. The pleasure is so intense that she doesn’t know if she means to pull him off, or hold him between her thighs forever, until fire inside her burns itself out.

"Oh, forever is good," Alistair says blearily.

The hands in his hair become a sharp tug as she grips him, desire spiking sharply. Starved for his touch though his hands are everywhere, and his mouth is everywhere, and the weight of him presses against her.

The heat Alistair stokes between her thighs isn’t low, or lazy, or blunt with exhaustion like it was at the pools. It’s a bright, terrible thing, all sharp-edged and desperate.

He comes up for a breath, grinning. “Like that do you?”

Bethany makes a wrecked sound.

“Oh? That good, eh?” His expression is too gratified to be deemed a smirk, but it’s close.

His hips rock back and forth a little, a tiny pantomime that’s part reflex and part anticipation. But he keeps the heat of his mouth between her legs, wet and bright, making deep, rumbly noises of approval as she dissolves into a puddle of pure sensation beneath him. There’s too much to feel, so she focuses on the tiny details of him to keep from being completely overwhelmed.

The scrape of his teeth.

The rasp of his stubble.

The stir of his tongue.

The deep slide of his fingers.

Her hips shift and flutter as he breathes quite praise into her skin.

Bethany tips forward against him with a silent cry, every nerve brightly overloaded. A rush of heat that builds and builds and builds until everything is outlined in fire.

A bright, blinding light.

A roar of bliss.

Alistair keeps his mouth against her as she comes. Keeps her hips steady. Keeps her heart beating as the whole world dissolves around her.

"Maker, Beth." He raises himself up, face slick. Shifting his weight. Reaching between his legs to the tangle of his laces and tugging them open, one-handed. He cups himself, all heat and hardness before pressing forward, against her, into her. He gasps, and stills completely. A breath and beat, as if he’s too overwhelmed to even think about moving. Then he makes a tight sound and begins to grind his hips, working himself deeper and deeper with every slow, careful thrust.

“Alistair,” she tugs at his hips, trying to urge him deeper still.

He smiles, and tangles their hands together. First one, then the other, and brings them to his lips, brushing a tender kiss across the backs of her knuckles.

“Alistair…”

“Shhh,” he presses each of her hands above her head and holds them there, gently. “I’ve got you.”

She squeezes his hands back, and rolls her hips against him, grinning. “I’ve got you, too.”

He swears. A quiet surussus of breath against her neck, and begins to move in earnest.

Alistair whispers to her through the bright staccato motion of his hips. Things like beautiful and everything and please and love. He whispers other things too, but the words fragment and fall away until there is just the sound of her name, over and over like a ragged litany. “Bethany, Bethany, Bethany, Beth… ”

Pleasure builds like the thrum of a heartbeat. Steady. Pounding. Driving on and on. Faster and faster.

She tips her head up to kiss Alistair, but it’s hardly a kiss, just another way their bodies slide together. Open mouths and harsh pants, and he breathes her name against her mouth, each syllable broken into its own little sound.

His thrusts speed up, then slow down, then speed up again. Rhythm suddenly as ungainly as his breathing.

"Gods. Maker."

Bethany's toes curl, and her heart bursts, and she can't tell which of them makes that fractured sound. But it’s loud enough to echo in the dark.

A cry of completion and joy.

Alistair is perfectly rigid above Bethany, carrying enough of his own bodyweight, one-handed so he doesn't squash her. A fine tremor runs through him as he bends his neck, resting his forehead momentarily against hers. Then he makes a broken sound as he slides out. Holds himself upright, breathing hard, arms trembling. A single drop of sweat slides down the bridge of his long nose.

And the world is utterly perfect and peaceful.

Bethany floats for what feels like forever, a single hand still clinging to Alistair. She’s too sated and heavy-limbed to do more than breathe. Certainly not think. She can’t even count their heartbeats, but she acknowledges every one, steady and slow and nearly in sync with one another. Tiny drums in the dark.

She feels Alistair shift above her, and instinctually grips him, fingers twisting around his in an effort to keep him close. He chuckles quietly, and carefully disentangles himself from her.

Bethany makes a flat sound of complaint.

“Greedy.” He murmurs, and kisses her on her nose.

She tips her chin up for a proper kiss, and he obliges, lips soft and sweet and faintly salt from their lovemaking.

He double checks the gear they have piled up next to their bedroll, then rucks Bethany's clothes back into place, and drags her against him, tucking them both into bed, pulling the fraying quilts high over her shoulders. He strokes the curve of her skull, fingers carding through the spill of inky curls.

How the world has changed in a single day.

"Beth, I wasn’t…" Alistair starts, voice scratchy with exhaustion. He falls suddenly silent, and presses a kiss to her temple, fingers still working soothingly through her hair. “I... wasn’t allowed a last name, because I was born a bastard,” he says very softly after a moment. “But… Theirin.”

“Oh, ha ha. I am Fereldan,” Bethany nudges him through the blankets. “I know what that name means.”

But Alistair is staring straight up into the darkness above them, body rigid, face blank but lined with a tense sort of misery.

He isn’t joking.

What?

“Alistair, you—” She rests a careful hand on his chest and sits up. Even through the fabric of his tunic she can feel his heart hammering. “But that would make you—”

“It would make me nothing.” He interrupts tersely, and grabs her hand. She thinks she might shrug off her touch, but he just folds their hands together, fingers interlinking. “It isn’t safe Beth,” he says softly. “Most everyone who knew I existed is either dead or… or rather happy to think that I’m dead. Or both."

She frowns, and leans over to plant a kiss on their interwoven fingers.

Alistair's hand lifts unconsciously to cup the back of her head. “The whole of my life I never fit anywhere. Not at court. Not with the Templars. But the Warden’s take anyone, don’t they?” He smiles at her, but there’s pain in his eyes. Bright and glimmering with a razor sharp edge. “Even unwanted nobody’s who pose a threat to Ferelden’s monarchy. And though no one has ever even bothered to ask me, I never wanted anything to do with—” he makes a frustrated sound through his teeth, “politics.”

And that’s Aveline to the bone. That ferocious disdain for a world that sets politics above people. And Bethany knows in that moment he'd make a terrible King.

And a fantastic one.

“Does anyone else know?” She asks quietly.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Not for certain, at least. I think Stroud suspects. He was a Chevalier for half his life. Grew up too close to court-life, the nosy git. The Order brought him in from Orlais when I wouldn't lead them. Poor man. The Fereldan armor isn't nearly as fancy. No griffon feathers or lacy underthings in sight.” His mouth twists into a smile, but she can see how forced the expression is. “I did petition Weisshaupt for the lacy underthings, though. They said no. Bloody cheapskates. That's gratitude for stopping a blight.”

“Alistair…”

“I’ve already decided to let the next one slip right through.”

“Alistair.”

“It’s thongs for the lot of us, or I won't lift a finger.”

“Alistair.”

He sighs, and brings her hand to his lips, suddenly serious again. “I know, Beth. Just leave it. Please. It’s a mess, and I don’t know how to begin to untangle it. And I don't need to. I'm right where I want to be. Or, almost..." He snags her around the waist and pulls her down flush against him. One hand threads itself back into her curls, the other drifts cheekily down to her buttock. "There. Now I'm right where I want to be."

Bethany sighs, a quiet happy sound, and slips her hand beneath the neckline of his tunic where she can feel his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. “So am I.”

***

It is four years, eight months, and twenty-three days before Bethany sees her brother again.

Kirkwall’s silhouette is unrecognizable whenever it is visible, which it mostly isn't. There’s enough smoke and silt in the sky that it nearly blocks out the sun, and the world seems to flit eerily from day to night and back again with each passing breeze.

And worst of all, the air is brimful of magic. Or, the aftermath of magic. It’s a spent husk, angry and desperate. An echo of the mage who cast it.

And Maker protect them all, it feels like Anders.

Or it feels like the parts of Anders that felt like Justice — all harsh and spirit-scorched. Like the wine at the bottom of the bottle that’s still the same wine, but is too intense to drink. There’s so much Justice now, it’s overwhelming.

(But Anders is still in there somewhere, faint and mellow. A note of elderberry lingering on the back of the palette.)

(Maker, she doesn't know what will happen if he disappears entirely.)

Kirkwall is on fire. Parts of it. Most of it, it looks like from here, though Bethany isn’t really sure where here is. Not Hightown, she doesn't think. Near the docks maybe, but she can’t smell the sea, only the sour reek of death by fire.

She needs to find her brother.

The Hanged Man? Uncle Gamlen’s house?

She closes her eyes against the smoke, and the bitter smell of the place. Where are you Garrett?

“Huh,” Alistair says behind her, pointing. “Isn’t that...?”

Oh shit.

It is.

It's a full-length, marble statue of her bloody older brother. About 10 feet tall, bearded and stern, with a ridiculous crimson streak across his nose, and a wicked pair of daggers in his hands , and his foot planted on — is that a Qunari skull?

“Huh,” Alistair says again.

The words Champion of Kirkwall are engraved in gold leaf along the bottom, and it’s as telling as the statue itself of how far Garrett has risen that no one's tried to scrape off the gold to sell. And oh Maker, please let it not be a memorial to her brother.

“He’s here, I’m sure of it.” Alistair grips her shoulder, and plants a reassuring kiss against her temple. “He struck me as the sort that's rather hard to kill.”

And well, he isn't wrong.

But if there was anyone who reached for death with open arms, and a smile...

She grips Alistair’s hand and tries to press down the rising panic inside her.

They walk past smoke filled streets, going up — she thinks — towards the heart of the city. They encounter no one, which is almost eerier than the smoke, and the fires, and the distant screams. Kirkwall is a city always on the verge of overflowing. Too many people shoved into too little space. But now it's so empty that even a corpse might be comforting.

Maker, what happened here?

The wind shifts, and Bethany gets a faceful of smoke, and then she sees him.

His back is turned to her. Head to toe in unfamiliar, blood red armor. Hair shaggy enough to fall well past his collar. But she'd recognize him anywhere. She'd recognize him in the pitch dark with only her heart to guide her.

“Garrett! Garrett!”

He straightens, slow and jerky like a man half-caught in a dream, and drops the oh Maker that’s a dead Templar in a heap at his feet.

A swoop of that old fear deep in her gut, and she freezes. “What— ?”

“Bethany!” He bellows from across the clearing and rushes at her, figure blurring and blinking across the courtyard, and she’s never understood how rogues can bend space like that without magic. But he's at her side in a moment, between the span of one heartbeat and the next. Their breastplates clang together together as he wraps her in a hug so enormous, it all but knocks her off her feet.

His armor is stupidly pointy, and not at all good for hugging, but she hangs on anyway, laughing and crying all at once.

“I knew it, Bethany. I knew you weren’t dead. I told Mother—” a choked sound into her hair. “I knew it.”

“There’s so much I want to tell you,” Bethany says helplessly, voice cracking on every other syllable.

“It was my fault,” Garrett mutters. And that heavy guilt in his voice might be anything. The Deep Roads. Carver. The fact that Kirkwall seems to be actively burning to the ground, and he's red to the elbows in dead Templar.

He mutters a blur of I’m sorrys into her hair, and she grips him even tighter, wrapping him in the protective shell of her magic because she can feel the exhaustion and terror winding around his bones, and he’s her brother, and she loves him, damnit. “I don’t blame you.”

“Idiot. Probably should.”

“Probably,” Bethany concedes with a wet sort of laugh. “But I don’t.”

He pulls away from the hug enough to eye her up and down. “So, they kept you.” He tugs at the shoulder seam of her uniform, where the blue gives way to a hint of silver. “You’re a Warden now.”

“And you’re a – a Champion? The Champion. I saw your statue.”

“Viscount, actually.” He scrubs his hand across his face, neatly smearing the streak of scarlet across the bridge of his nose. “Or the nearest thing to it.”

Bethany blinks.

Last she knew her family was living cheek by jowl in Gamlen’s foul smelling hovel, manhandling third-rate bandits, just to get by, and now her idiot older brother is Viscount of Kirkwall.

“What in the Maker’s name has been going on here?” She breathes, then coughs, waving away the smoke that wreathes them. Her voice drops. “And why are you murdering Templars?”

Garrett grinds his teeth together, jaw tightly clenched. “There isn't time to explain.” There’s something in his voice that is just so lost and bleak that for the first time she thinks to look for—

No Isabela.

No Aveline.

No Varric.

No anyone.

Her brother is a human magnet. He draws people into his orbit with an almost laughable ease. Garrett might have been twelve the last time she saw him alone — when there wasn’t someone hanging on his arm or his word or with bated breath.

She licks the sudden chill off her lips. “Garrett, where is everyone?”

“At the Gallows, Bethy. What's left of it, anyway. How are you at fighting abominations?” He grabs her hand and starts to pull her away with him, into the smoke of Kirkwall, but Alistair reaches out, quick as anything and snags her other hand, tugging back.

“Excuse me,” Garrett says, glaring, “but that's my sister you’ve got there.”

“Yes, and that's my wife you've got.” Alistair doesn't glare nearly as well as her brother does, but he manages a respectable level of sternness.

Garrett's glare shifts to a squint. “I remember you. Alistair, was it?” Garrett eyes him up from boots to cowlick in one neat flick of his hazel eyes. “Oh yes, you are just her type.”

“I don’t have a type.” Bethany huffs, because honestly, her brother is the worst.

And Alistair — traitorously — bursts into a snort of laughter that he doesn’t even bother to muffle, and Garrett gives her a smile that’s the same as it’s ever been, wide and white and charming when it isn’t menacing, and it’s always a bit of both.

Garrett drops Bethany’s hand with a tiny mock-bow, and grasps Alistair’s free one instead, swinging it back and forth as though he was a child on his way to a candy shop. “Well, come on then little brother, we've got to go save all the mages.”

Alistair blinks rather bewilderedly at Garrett’s hand in his, but follows all the same. “Am I the little brother, then? I'm older, I think.”

(He isn't.)

Garrett snorts. “So? I'm taller—”

(He isn't.)

“—and better looking,” her brother adds firmly. “So I’m the big one. Bethany agrees. Don’t you, Bethy-whatever-your-last-name-is-now? ” He raises his eyebrows expectantly at her.

“Hawke,” she offers.

“Then what’s his last name?”

“Also Hawke,” Alistair mutters.

And Garrett takes the world in stride. All the bumps and bruises and unexpected brother-in-laws. It’s what Bethany has always loved about him best.

“Three Hawkes in Kirkwall?” Her brother bursts out in a gusty laugh that's all rust around the edges. “The Knight-Commander is so very fucked now. This day is turning around quite nicely. ”

Which means for sure it’s going to be the worst sort of day.

And it is.

But…

After it is done, and the Gallows have been cracked open and bled dry, and Bethany herself has bled, and cried, and wondered — twice — if she might be killed; she sits in the on the floor of the courtyard. Alistair is at her back, his arms folded her middle, and his breath against her ear, and her magic on his skin. Her brother is in the background, bellowing orders at anyone with the energy left to listen.

“This seems an excellent time to remind you that I love you very much, Bethany Hawke,” Alistair nuzzles into her hair.

“You do?”

He squeezes her once, tightly. She can feel his smile against the curve of her neck. “Yes, I believe I do.”

The sun comes out over the husk that is Kirkwall. Bright and warm. Cutting through the smoke-dreary haze like magic.

Bethany turns her face to the sun, and squeezes Alistair back.

Things could be much worse, she supposes.

5/5 …… Read it from the beginning

#Dragon age #da2 #bethany x alistair #bethistair #Alistair Therin #bethany hawke #IT'S DONE!#This is only the third multi-chapter fic I have finished ever #bruh #praise me

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