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stesierra · 2 years ago

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Do you ever write a book and have no idea who it's for? Do you ever wonder what you were thinking because you're pretty sure no one wants to read about a down on his luck elf adopting a little girl? If so, we should be friends. Anyway, Triangle Park is that book for me. If you find it at all interesting please tell me, because I don't know what to do with it.

(Also any Spanish speakers who want to correct my Spanish would be welcome! He's sort of Spanish although "born" in the USA.)

TRIANGLE PARK

CHAPTER ONE

A century ago, Adam had been a champion, fighting for the honor and protection of his court with sword and shield. Today, Adam was buried in bushes, fighting trees with a branch lopper that had seen better days. Not so unlike himself.

He threw his weight against the handle of the lopper until the wood groaned in protest, and the tree limb parted with a crack. It tumbled to the ground, crushing a maple sapling underneath, and he felt like a butcher. From the faint complaints he felt, the trees agreed. The complaints would have been stronger, but the forest here wasn't very alive. Not the way faeries measured things.

He stepped back, tool in one hand, and examined the hickory tree. It looked better, at least, or would once the wound healed. Another step, and only his reflexes kept him from falling backwards into a hawthorn. A hawthorn that didn't need to be there. He went back to pruning.

He kept working when the sun fell behind the long short mountain above him. The moon and stars were as good to his eyes. And he did not tire easily. It was nearly four in the morning before the labors of the day wore at him, and he picked his way through the forest towards the trail he'd carved into the wilderness. Once he stepped onto it, his hike down was far easier. He passed through ten acres of carefully manicured forest. The brush was cleared away to leave space between broadleaf trees that had been been cut and staked and pruned until they were almost beautiful. These ten acres had taken him thirty years.

Only three hundred to go.

Adam reached the bottom of the ridge and emerged from the forest onto the patchy field at the center of his holdings. As usual he stopped and stared down at his domain. It brought him no joy.

"Pedazo de mierda," he said.

His queen had granted him these lands, a sizable chunk of Buffalo Mountain, bordered by farms to the east and west and state game land to the south. It wasn't until he was exiled there that he realized how much a joke that gift had been.

His small corner of the Ridge and Valley region had been slated to be a county park, presumably before someone had actually visited the place. It was named Triangle Park after the angular lake that sat in the center. But that lake, which wasn't much more than twenty acres to begin with, had been fed by a spring that had been dry for a hundred years. It was now merely a boggy hole in the ground that filled with a foot or two of muddy water whenever it rained. And the forest here had been logged too many times, leaving timber as ugly as it was new. As soon as the park planners had taken a look at it, the land had been quietly sold off. At some point it had come into Queen Millicent's hands, and now his.

He went down to his trailer at the edge of his empty lake. As he squeezed through the door, he pulled off his ugly brown coat, whose only redeeming quality was being impervious to sticks, and then his white undershirt. His chest was as pale as if it had never seen the sun, but he knew from experience that no amount of tanning would fix it.

On his bed, too small for his long frame, he sought dreams strong enough to make him forget the joke his life had become. But sleep evaded him all night.

---

In the morning, he took up his shears and went back up into the hills. He really had nothing better to do. Even if it meant his days amounted to no more than endless yard work.

He took a different path this time, deep into the untended forest. He trod through the dense underbrush, stepping around overcrowded saplings and bushes and wading through poison ivy when it tangled across his path. A benefit of his less than human nature: he didn't have to worry about little things like rashes.

He picked a spot at random for the day's work. The trees disliked him, but that was fine. He didn't like them either.

"I ought to cut you down," he told a young oak as he struggled to lash it upright. "And plant a sapling that can figure out how to grow towards the sun."

The tree rustled its leaves at him resentfully. The half that had leaves, anyway.

He snapped off a leafless branch. It was dry as paper.

"You can't even die right."

The tree reached for his pale hair, which shone near-white in the sunlight, but he kept it braided back tightly for just that reason. Its twigs glanced off, but he tied the tree upright with a vicious yank anyway.

"It isn't too late for me to get that saw," he threatened, which silenced the oak. It didn't even complain when his trimmers lopped off its dead branches.

"Aurug. Aurug," something called from the brush. The throaty bark made him lower his tools.

"Aurug. Aurug," the unseen animal cried, perhaps fifty feet away. Not a dog. Not a bear. And pumas and wolves didn't live much in the east. But something big, to have a voice that deep.

He turned silently towards the noise. His sword was in his trailer down by the lake, buried under his mattress. And his pruners made a poor substitute. But he would not leave some beast uninvestigated in his forest.

He ghosted over the obstacles he'd crashed through at dawn. Outcast or not, he was a faerie knight, he had been on innumerable hunts, and he had not yet forgotten all of his grace. If he could have turned invisible, he would have, but that had never numbered among Adam's talents.

The voice fell silent. But Adam prowled towards it anyway. Nothing had thrashed through the brush, so it should still be there. Just there...

He rounded a thicket of young oaks. A black beast crouched in the leaf litter. Clippers at the ready, Adam approached. Animals did not fear faeries the way they feared man, but the animal still should have bolted, for wildlife had never taken to Adam. His shape -- what humans might label an elf --was too man-like. But it watched him instead, its tail still, its claws sheathed.

A faerie, clearly. Adam didn't need the curling, tendril-like ears, or its swirling eyes, to tell him that. A great black cat, elegant and sleek, looked as out of place in this dumpy third-growth forest as he did. But it wasn't that that made him lower his weapon. It wasn't that that made him stare.

"Espíritu guíame," he breathed.

A little girl was curled around the beast, all great black eyes and leaf-brown hair and long pointed ears. She was dressed in the ragged cloth of dreams, half imagination, half nightgown. The child -- the child queen -- looked at Adam and shrank into the side of the panther, her little hands closing on its fur. If she had been human, Adam would have said she was perhaps six years old. But she was faerie, and Adam knew -- knew! -- that she had not existed ten minutes ago. Even though she should never have been born here. Queens were born in beautiful glades and on the shores of mirror-like lakes, amid wild hills and towering trees. They weren't born in ugly rural park rejects. And they were born adult, or adolescent at least. Adam had never heard of a queen born a child. And yet a queen she undeniably was. The cat sealed it. Her firstborn, come into existence beside her, the first faerie her dreams had brought to life.

Adam laid the pruners down in the litter. And he approached barehanded, for one did not carry a weapon into the presence of a queen without her leave.

The panther rose, and the queen rose with it, one hand resting against its side. But neither ran.

Five feet away, Adam dropped to one knee, offering a queen the obeisance she was due. The little faerie considered him. He considered her back. She was tiny but lanky, her limbs thin and graceful. Her square face had a tiny, delicate nose and a tiny, delicate chin. Her round pink lips sported a pronounced cupid's bow. And her eyebrows were so fine they were barely visible.

She let go of her firstborn and crept forward. Adam held still, wondering if she knew she was supposed to tell him to rise. But she didn't tell him anything. She reached him and threw her arms around his neck.

Adam startled. Slowly, he lifted a hand to cradle her small back. He had stolen human children before -- children wriggling and shrieking to go back to their own families -- but not in decades. Not without orders. This child did not try to escape him. But then, she was a faerie, and how odd that was! Most faeries were born adult, so they would immediately be useful, or at least born older than this.

He said into a long ear, "Do you have a name? My lady?" The title was hers by right of her nature. It still fell awkwardly from his lips.

"Rabbit," she said, leaning her forehead against his shoulder.

Adam nodded. Rabbit was as good a name as any, among faeries. Queen Lía, who had birthed Adam, had fancied human names, but that was an affectation on her part, not some inherent part of their culture. In his few centuries of life, Adam had met plenty of faeries with names that were no more than meaningless, inhuman noise. He said, "My name is Adam, my lady Rabbit. I am the guardian of these lands." He asked, of the panther, "And who is this?"

Rabbit leaned back in his arms and considered her firstborn. She said, finally, "He's Sniffer."

Sniffer growled, low and deep in his throat. Adam could almost feel the vibrations. The cat circled them, his alien eyes fixed on Adam. They were as vivid green as Adam's.

"I mean your mistress no harm," Adam told the panther, although he hadn't yet decided if it were true. He let go of Rabbit and rose, offering her his hand. "You are here alone in the wilds, and you will meet no other than myself. If I were you, I'd not be so quick to reject my company."

Sniffer considered him, his ears twitching. And when Rabbit took Adam's hand, he followed them down the mountain.

He only kept a hold of the queen for the first mile. After that she ran ahead of him like her namesake, her hair flying out behind her. But his legs were longer. He could keep pace without breaking into an undignified sprint. Sniffer trotted at her side, his tail waving like a banner.

The child was out of breath by the time they emerged from the tree line and out onto the field. But she arrowed for his trailer anyway. It was a travel trailer, the kind meant to be hauled behind vigorous pickup trucks, and it hadn't been new when Queen Millicent dreamed it up for his use thirty years back. It was on the smaller end, as trailers went, but he had never needed more. Not to survive. And surviving was all he did.

He jogged after and caught the girl as she went up to stare at it. She turned to gaze up at him, her wide eyes reflecting the clouds above.

He put a hand on her shoulder, to keep her from running again, and asked her, "What is so alarming, my lady Rabbit?"

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Do you live here?"

"I do," he admitted.

"It's ugly," she said. And it was. It was rusty all along the tow frame. The ribbed aluminum siding had accumulated black discoloration in the dips, leaving the formerly-white trailer a hideous shade of mottled gray, like it suffered from some sort of fungal disease. And he'd replaced its flattened tires with jack stands decades ago -- he had nothing to haul it out of this place with, anyhow.

Life hadn't left Adam much beyond his beauty and his perfect teeth. But it had left him his pride. He said, "It is serviceable, which is what matters. If it offends you, you need not look at it."

Rabbit's lip wobbled alarmingly. Adam stared at it. But Rabbit did not burst into tears. She said plaintively, "I don't like ugly things."

No. She wouldn't. Queens almost never did. That was why faeries were almost uniformly fair, and those monstrous banished from their queen's sight as soon as they were born. Without thought, Adam said, "I know a beautiful place you might go."

Rabbit perked up, her long ears lifting. She looked at him expectantly.

But the words caught in his throat. Glory Woods. A beautiful place, yes. Fit for a queen far grander than this one. But that was the problem. A greater queen already called it home.

But perhaps that was not a problem but an opportunity.

Queen Millicent would not be happy to have a new court growing up on the border of hers. She would reward Adam, surely, if he brought the girl to her to be dealt with. Maybe she would be pleased enough to give back all she had stripped from him. And he had delivered children, human children, to her in the past. How was this any different?

He had always felt guilty about those children.

He glanced back at Rabbit. But this child was different. She had no one to miss and no one to miss her. Besides. Millicent was fascinated by children. She kept the human ones in some comfort. She might not even kill Rabbit. Maybe she would simply adopt Rabbit as her own.

"But I don't want to leave this place," Rabbit said while he was still contemplating her. "This is home."

He lifted a brow. "My trailer?"

She looked at him as if he were daft and waved her arms in every direction.

"Ah," Adam said softly. "The forest is ugly here, too. And the meadow, and the lake. All of it is really dreadfully ugly."

"But it's mine," Rabbit said.

Hers? It belonged to Adam, all he had to show for abandoning the court of his birth to swear fealty to Millicent. But a queen had a higher claim to the land than a piece of paper inherited by one fake identity after another, surely. He shook his head. He was thinking about this as if she were staying. If she went to live with Millicent, no one would contest his ownership of the land. No one would want to.

But then he wouldn't care about the land either if Millicent let him rejoin her court. Rabbit could have it if he could just be home again.

"I could make everything prettier, maybe," Rabbit said, squirming out from under his hand. Freed, she ran up to touch the trailer and its weathered siding.

Maybe she could. The powers of queens were frequently unclear. Maybe she could turn his three hundred acres into a paradise worthy of a court. Maybe she could dream up a court worthy of a paradise.

His next glance at her was more thoughtful. She was a queen. If he raised her, if he gained her loyalty, he would be a queen's adviser when she was grown. And that was not something to lightly throw away.

But to raise a queen would be to cement his exile from Glory Woods forever.

"Can we go inside?" Rabbit asked, running little hands across the trailer door.

Adam shook himself and pushed thoughts of Millicent and advisers and stolen children down. He didn't have to make up his mind right away. "Yes, of course."

Inside, the generator still worked well enough to give them some dim light, enough for faerie eyes. Enough to illuminate peeling linoleum, off-white walls and the brightly patterned fabric of the dinette seats that was probably the only attractive thing in the place. Rabbit rattled through his kitchenette cupboards, pulling out pots and pans as if she had never seen them, which on second thought she almost certainly never had. She climbed onto the counters, using the drawers as steps, and tipped over and smashed his radio. Adam didn't mind. It hadn't worked in a decade. She poked into his one large closet and puzzled over his worn-out jeans, which were as ugly as everything else in this place. What use did Adam have for fine court raiment, when he might never be part of a court again?

While she explored, Sniffer settled himself across the threshold, barring exit and entry. Adam eyed the cat warily as Rabbit scampered into the back of the trailer and jumped on his bed. If Rabbit's firstborn realized that Adam was considering handing Rabbit off to another queen, they might come to blows, and just because the faerie was newborn did not mean he was born unable to fight. And Adam's sword was buried under his mattress. Where Rabbit, of course, found it.

She came back up to him dragging the blade behind her. It was still sheathed, thank the sun and stars, and didn't blunt itself or destroy his floor. He still went quickly to retrieve it from her.

The sight of it provoked mixed feelings in Adam. Adam had come from an immigrant Andalusian queen who must be some seven hundred and twenty years old now, a queen who had lived when swords were the weapons of champions. He had been born with a sword in his hand, literally, and even as he'd watched humans shoot each other, he'd never seen a reason to lay it down. Guns were loud and dirty, out of tune with nature. They were how humans fought, not faeries. He had held onto his sword all his life. Until Queen Millicent sent him away.

"Give that here," Adam told her. "It's rather too large for you to use."

The little faerie didn't relinquish her grip. "What's this?" Rabbit demanded.

"A weapon. And you have no need for weapons, for your firstborn and I will guard you against all dangers." For now.

Her brow furrowed. "What does a weapon do?"

"It hurts people," he said bluntly as he pried her fingers off the hilt. "Generally to prevent them from hurting you first." He was tempted, irrationally, to draw it. He settled for running a hand down its sheath. It was a standard longsword, except it tapered to a very fine and sharp point. The sort of point that rammed through weaknesses in armor when slashing wouldn't do.

Rabbit mulled over this. "It's for safety."

"Yes," he lied. There was too much blood on his hands for that to be true.

She nodded once, brushing her long brown hair behind one pointed ear. "I want to learn."

"How to use a sword?" Adam asked incredulously. Queens didn't fight. They had knights for that, and fierce beasts that sat at the foot of their thrones. He had never heard of a queen taking up fighting beyond, perhaps, the use of a small dagger for emergencies.

She nodded again.

"No. You are tiny, and I have no practice weapons." Besides, he had not trained anyone in decades, and his last students had been full-grown faeries.

Her face screwed up. Tears beaded dramatically in her eyes. He was almost certain she was doing that on purpose. But her voice wavered convincingly when she said, "I want to be safe, too. If Sniffer and you are away."

Training her... it would be a good way to get to know her. To help him make up his mind as to whether to shelter or betray her. So Adam relented and said, "Very well. I have a shortage of swords. But I do have an excess of sticks."

And when they went out to look for some, he buckled his sword around his waist for the first time in thirty years.

They spent the afternoon going in and out of the forest, collecting stout, straight sticks of the right size for Rabbit and Adam to use. Sniffer carried a bundle of them in his mouth, showing off his impressive fangs. Adam was glad to be properly armed again. He was certain he could take the cat. Almost certain. It had been too long since he had fought anything. He had grown rather pathetic over the years.

When the dusk came, Rabbit complained of the cold, although the June night was warm enough to Adam. Still, he ushered her inside the trailer, where at least the wind could not reach. Done for the day, and tired from all the drama, he shrugged off his coat and went and laid down in his bed without thought, setting his sword aside but within reach. He nearly jumped out again when Rabbit crawled in and snuggled up against him. His heart rate leveled off. He shouldn't have been surprised. She had nowhere else to sleep and he was at the very least warm. Sniffer didn't attempt to join them. Thank the sun and stars.

Rabbit drifted off immediately. He lay awake in the dark, thinking, her body a warm little weight pressed against his side. If he could go back to Glory Woods, if he could see Madeline again... But who was to say that she had waited for him? Thirty years was a blink of an eye, but Madeline was still young, little over a century, and the young were impatient. And who was to say that if he chose to sacrifice Rabbit Millicent would not laugh and take the child and banish him all over again?

He fell asleep and he dreamed of Glory Woods, and Madeline's hand in his, and the warm glow of Queen Millicent's approval.

@anonymousfoz

@moremysteriesthantragedies

@elizababie

@sm-writes-chaos

@bellascarousel

@palebdot

@Hyba

#writeblr #writing #writing community #creative writing #fantasy #writers #Triangle Park

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lord-irving-braxiatel · 1 year ago

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@deathxproof

"Hmm, I have a bottle of wine somewhere." He rummaged around in his coat jacket's pocket that lay slung over on the tree log next to him, and he handed her the bottle. He didn't have any glasses to offer, so he'd let her drink it straight from the bottle itself. It's what he had been doing the last few hours. He really had fallen from grace, but right now, he was beyond caring. "Standard, cheap Earth wine I'm afraid."

"You can, more so if you have dabbled in your own timelines like I have," He hiccuped, and looked at his grand-niece. "Well, that is a depressing thought, but sadly, one possibility. They've been trying to recall me back to the front lines, you know. The council has been hounding me, telling me they need me for my skills and knowledge. I told them to forget it. I've fought for them countless times before. Your grandfather is up there, fighting somewhere. He didn't want to join either. He kept defying the council."

A shudder went through him. "I'm going to have to go back to it sooner or later. Romana needs me. Narvin and Leela need me, they're my friends. No matter what I have done in the past, I have to go back and help them at least. I'll do it for them, not for the council."

He snorted when Susan spoke her final sentence and he raised his empty bottle to the sky. "I remember when you were a small time-tot. Your grandfather dropped you off one day to do business at the Council and despite my protests at being otherwise occupied, I had no choice but to look after you that day. You were so tiny. You slept in my lap like a kitten the whole time I was working."

Susan took a few steps forward, stood next to the fire but didn’t sit down. She thought about the small handful of times she had the pleasure displeasure of running into those she’d considered family. Was that recognition? There was already so little of home she properly learned about or felt attached to. “— Huh. Well. I guess. I wouldn’t have known.”

There’s a moment of hesitation before she walks over to sit beside her uncle. She knocks aside a bottle so she could sit. “Do you have anything else?” she couldn’t help asking, given the mood. Susan looked up, watched the sky. “… Good.” she finally said, hands fidgeting, squeezing at one another. “Good. Because I’d be very well mad if either of you died. I’d find a way to bring you back just to kill you myself.”

It really would’ve been beautiful if you didn’t know what it was. Where they were, the view wasn’t even possibly visible from Earth, but they would’ve chalked it up to something like star explosions anyways. “You can feel the effects all over the place now.” Susan says. “Nobody on Earth notices. I can feel it anyways. It’s wrong. It’s like the universe is screaming. I’m scared that one day I’ll be going about my day and it will just… Stop. And what that means.” she swallows, shifts where she sat. “… War is a terrible fucking way to reunite family.”

#deathxproof

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thenovelartist · 3 years ago

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And there was only One Bed - Tears of Themis Headcanons

Premise: There’s only one room left in the hotel, meaning the guys have to be roomies with MC for a night.

Luke

Err… his cheeks are red now.

He’s having to check with MC if she’s okay with it. Not that they had much of a choice.

They take the room, only to discover one bed.

And forget his crush on her; that’s the least of his problems.

He knows she shifts in her sleep.

“You take half and I take half?” MC offers. “Like when we were kids?”

He sighs, lamenting his fate. “I’m so gonna end up on the floor.”

“Sorry.”

When it comes to who showers first: rock, paper, scissors.

He’s the least phased of all the guys by the whole “share one bathroom” situation. They grew up together. They sometimes used to have quick conversations through the bathroom door, normally just a question or two about what they wanted for dinner or if their phone went off and it was their parents.

Which happened this time. “There was a vending machine down stairs. You want anything? And if you mention that diet, I’m getting you two of your favorite candy bars.”

“Just one and only one.”

“You got it.”

(@gavin-plz-call-me once called them the “King and Queen of No Boundaries” and I will never forget it.)

Eventually, Luke makes sure MC’s settled in for bed while he’s planning to stay up a little and figure out tomorrow’s game plan.

Until she literally drags him to bed.

He can’t protest against her.

Contrary to what he thought, he did not end up on the floor.

But it was kinda hard to sleep when the girl of his dreams decided his chest was her new snuggle pillow halfway through the night.

He’ll cave and roll with it. Be selfish just for tonight and hold her there.

Come morning, she apologizes for disrupting him, he dismisses it. And both their cheeks are red.

But it doesn’t phase them. Give it half an hour, they’re back to normal.

(Bonus: “So, kid. Let me get this straight,” Aaron Yishmir started. “You spent the night with her, and you’re still not gonna tell her anything?”

“It wasn’t like that!”

“You’re hopeless.)

Vyn

Well… this is a predicament.

However, they come to some awkward agreement that if it’s the only place to sleep for the night, they’ll take it and figure it out as they go.

However, things only go from bad to worse when they learn there’s only one bed.

There were very few times since becoming an adult that Vyn ever found himself at a loss. And this was one of those times.

“Um… are you comfortable splitting?”

His glasses almost fell off his face at MCs suggestion.

Before he can even think about suggesting to take the chair, MC is putting up a blanket wall. “Like this?”

Er… aha…

Oh geez, this woman…

He caves to that deep, ugly part of him that’s begging “yes” and agrees.

Then comes the new revelation there’s only one bathroom, which rose the question of who was going to shower when.

He just lets her take the first shower while his mind is still storming.

During that time, he realizes this may be the only time he has the privacy to actually record his voice diary.

It’s a total disaster. He’s in mental turmoil and can barely think straight.

But MC is acting normal, meaning he’s got to try to act normal.

Normally, he takes his showers in the morning, but he takes it at night this time just so he can have another moment of privacy to get his thoughts in order.

This is just a practical arrangement. This is just a practical arrangement. This is just a practical arrangement…

Bedtime rolls around, and poor, unsuspecting Vyn believes they are each going to stay on their respective sides of the bed.

However, Author has a headcanon these two both sleep like dead logs.

Morning rolls around, and they’re still both asleep, only they’re totally entangled.

MC wakes up first, laying on top of Vyn.

And when she freaks, flailing and falling off the bed in the process, that’s when Vyn wakes, too.

It was… an interesting morning to say the least.

They come to the agreement to never speak on it again.

(Until a few years down the line after they’re together and can look back on that day with amusement.)

Artem

When the person at the front desk said there was only one room left, Artem about had a heart attack.

He cannot possibly share a room with MC. That’s super improper.

Will call around to any other hotel in the area, but no avail.

MC will literally have to drag this poor man up to the room.

“It will be fine, Artem.”

Except, it wasn’t. There was one bed.

Cue almost heart attack number 2.

He almost left to go sleep in the car. MC had to restrain him.

“We can share right? Like, if we—”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Not even if we put a blanket—”

“No. I’ll sleep in the chair.”

There was no convincing him to sleep anywhere else.

And MC tried.

Eventually, she had to surrender. “Fine. Then do you want the first shower?”

Oh… there was only one bathroom… that they’d be sharing…

Cue almost heart attack number 3.

Will legitimately leave the room while she’s showering. He just feels too awkward and like he’s invading her privacy.

Then bed time rolls around and he’s unable to sleep, so he works on his laptop for the time being.

Ends up pulling an all-nighter, which MC anticipated.

She set an alarm for early in the morning so she could then force him to bed for a few hours.

While he insisted he was fine, he was too tired to protest as she pushed him down into bed. “Sleep, will you. I know you didn’t sleep all night.”

Thought he’d have trouble, but he was so wound up all night over everything that had happened that he’s passed out in fifteen minutes.

And stayed out cold for a few hours.

When they left, MC made sure to thank him for being such a gentleman. She thought it was the least she could do for his troubles.

That, and she quite liked the way his ears and neck turned red.

(Bonus: He hopes Celestine never finds out what happened on that business trip.

But when she finds out curtesy of MC, she will never let him live it down.)

Marius

The moment he finds out there’s only one room, he actually gets super flustered.

And as he does, instantly goes in to deflective Playboy Flirt mode.

“Get your head out of the gutter, you little—”

MC shut that down, real quick.

Most he could do then is just say “It can’t be that bad, right? What’s the worst that could happen?”

Well, apparently only be one bed.

Flustered Marius = Playboy Persona

“That’s it,” MC says. “You take the bed.”

“What? Don’t you wanna share?”

“No.”

“Ouch!”

But really, he wants to find some way to get her to take the bed because he really will feel awful otherwise.

Then comes the single bathroom realization.

“You wanna shower together?”

“Marius, I swear I will kick you out of this room and take the keycard from you.”

“Oh, my feisty Miss Attorney.”

“Miss Attorney will sue you for sexual harassment.”

“Understood.”

He gets to shower first, and then ends up giving her some excuse for leaving the room entirely.

He loves teasing her, but this might be the most he’s ever pushed his luck. And he actually doesn’t want her to hate him, so he’ll give her this space at least.

As for the bed situation…

MC tries to sleep on the couch, but he can’t stand it, so he decides to push his luck and simply carry her to bed.

“I won’t pull anything, I swear.”

“The only reason I’m agreeing is because I know I’ll sleep better here than the couch.”

“See?”

“Marius.”

“I’ll shut up.”

Regrets his decision halfway through the night when Mr. Light Sleeper realizes Ms. Dead Log moves in her sleep.

She was snuggled up against his back, and his heart was going doki doki too hard to even think about going back to sleep.

Eventually, he rolls over and snuggles her, not just because he wants to, but he hopes it will keep her still through the night.

Unfortunately, she was not happy in the morning.

“Can’t we talk about this?”

She kept her face turned away from him the rest of the day, but he knew it was red with blush. “Shut up.”

#tears of themis #luke pierce #vyn richter #artem wing #marius von hagen #headcanons #tears of themis headcanons

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burninlovebutler · 2 years ago

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15 - No Touching* | Forever Winter | a.b x oc

warnings: smut, grinding/dry humping?, excruciating TEASING, insatiable!austin, oral (f receiving), multiple o’s, sweatpants, angst, alcohol, mention of drugs, infidelity?, 18+ mature - minors dni

15/? - austin's best friend tumbles into his lap when she decides she wants to win the game - but only with one rule, no touching.

see masterlist/summary for background info + chapter log

(i hope you horny bitches love this one - 3k+ words)

𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗- 𝙵𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚃𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜

-AUSTIN-

As always, the moment dissipated, as if we hit fast forward through the awkwardness. As if I didn’t just have my hand on her pussy.

It was the closest call we’ve had and as much as it turned me on, it also struck a fierce terror in me. And we were just ignoring it. At some point we had to address it – right? We couldn't just keep ‘forgetting’. At least, I didn’t know if I could. But that was just it isn’t it? If we crossed that invisible line, it’s over. That’s what scared me - the aftermath. I couldn’t risk losing her, not over this. Not over wanting to fuck her.

I can’t ruin this. It can’t be me. It won’t be me.

We couldn’t have our cake and eat it too – could we? Friends with benefits are a thing, aren’t they? But could that be us? Can friends be beneficial after 6 years?

Regardless, the Xanax began to overpower the alcohol. I was slowing down, and I was slowing down fast. Every muscle in my body turned to wet clay and we had been dancing for what felt like a lifetime. I wouldn't even consider my frigid movements 'dancing' anymore.

“I think I need a break Els,” I breathed out, exasperated, resting my hand on my knee.

She rolled her eyes, “Booooo!”

I stumbled about 3 feet to my couch, tumbling and immediately melting into it. In that moment, that fucking couch felt like the softest cloud to ever exist.

She spun and staggered backwards, balancing herself back on her feet. The gray shirt riding up her thigh enough to show a tattoo I didn’t know she had. I couldn’t quite make out what it was, maybe a flower?

“I really think you should stop spinning, you’re gonna fall - or get sick.” I chuckled lazily, watching her drunkenly pirouetting. Bringing my arms to rest behind my head then laid back. My eyelids were as heavy as lead, threatening to shut.

She kept going.

“I’ll do what I want!” she protested, continuing to twirl, seemingly closer and closer to me. Between my slowed vision and my half closed eyes, I didn’t realize her velocity. She clashed and landed on top of me, legs across mine, giggling, “oops sorry.”

Propping back up in front of me, she reached for a pillow sitting atop the couch back. In a swift stumble, she fell onto me. This time, a knee at each side of my hips.

Fuck I can’t do this.

Her glazed eyes looked down into mine. I could see the gears turning in her head contemplating her next move. Looking at me like I did her just an hour ago, planning where she'd plant her next pawn. We were at a standstill, watching each other’s eyes. It was a game of who would move first. I already made my move earlier and she stopped me. This was her move now, the ball was in her court.

I can’t ruin us, it won’t be me.

Before I could stop and say that I was going to get up, Elsie reached behind me to catch the pillow that was about to fall. Her ass lifted up as she stretched for it, her chest now in my face. Thank god she was in a t-shirt and not anything with a lower neckline - I think that would've really done me in.

Is she fucking doing this on purpose? I can’t have her on my lap like this.

Not after earlier. She was gonna drive me insane.

She recoiled and sat back on my lap.

And of course, I was in fucking sweatpants.

Fuck

She observed me diligently, wide green eyes still innocent. I didn’t know if they truly were or not. Maybe she really did just accidentally fall in my lap.

Her hands then landed on the couch, one at each side of my head and did something I didn’t expect. She bent down slightly, causing her hips to rock back.

Fuck

I could already feel myself getting hard, begging to be inside her. My restrained hands burned from the need to land on any and every part of her.

She leaned into my face, hovering over my lips.

The fuck is she doing?

I looked up at her, as if asking her that very question.

She just kept her mouth about a centimeter away from mine, her breath accelerated. Her hand tangled into a side of my hair. But her face not moving, not attempting to move forward.

Was this payback for earlier? Was she asking for a rematch?

After a bit of this stalemate, my intoxicated brain decided, what the fuck. If this was really happening, then what the fuck do I have left to lose. It was already too far.

Fuck it. Close call clause.

I stretched up to meet her lips but she ebbed away. She brought a thumb to my lips, hooking onto the bottom one.

“No.” she said quickly and simply, like an order.

Now I was really fucking confused.

Her hips swiveled up then back again. I was fully hardened beneath her, there’s no way she couldn’t feel me. Yet, she continued.

It hadn’t registered til just then that she was only in that shirt and it was just her in panties pressed against my strained bulge.

She repeated the action, each move was slow and deliberate.

“El what are you doing?” Asking lowly, but my eyes not leaving her. She was too mesmerizing of a sight to give up. I was searching for any indicator that this was somehow some mistake or accident.

She tucked her head into the curve of my shoulder, again not touching me. Just like I did to her.

If she wasn’t budging on even putting her lips on my neck, I knew she wasn’t going to put them anywhere else. Especially not on my lips.

“I’m sitting on your lap silly” Now I knew her innocent act was just that, an act.

“You’re doin’ a little more than just sitting.” My voice couldn't get past a raspy, restrained whisper. I was nervous of what would come out if I lost control of it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Aus.” Her tone was so taunting like she was trying to provoke a hungry caged lion. It was sending me into a frenzy as if I was starved zoo animal. She knew it too. I needed to stop her before the aching buzz in my hips took charge.

She rolled up into me again, her heat now prevalent against my length. Suddenly I could feel her lips parting around my shaft through the fabrics between us. She was so wet, enough to seep her desires through our clothes.

I attempted to shove down a groan, “Els, we can’t do this—“

I was saying one thing but my body was demanding the opposite. Every nerve ending in my body was sparking, if I wasn’t high right now, she’d already be pinned to this couch. Another reason to be grateful for my little bars.

“What, you don’t like it?” I could hear the pout in her voice, tempting me further. She moved her hips against me harder this time, as if making a point that she could feel me. “I can tell you that do Austie” She whispered in my ear, only causing me to twitch under her. “I can feel how hard you are.”

I never thought anyone could be driven to insanity by repressed seduction but my god was she going to kill me. If I couldn’t have her tonight, I would need a lobotomy to keep me from absolutely losing my fucking mind.

“We just can’t—" I still protested - don’t fucking know why.

It can’t be me, it won’t be me.

She was dishing back what I did to her. She took the power I had over her and flipped it on me. Only hers was better, I couldn’t stop her the way she did me. She might win the game after all. “I just really don’t think it’s a good idea to be doing this—“

She swiveled her hips, speeding up just slightly.

Fuck

I let out a short coarse groan, each clasp of sanity was slipping from my grasp. My hands itched to be on her, my dick begged to be in her. “Fuck, what are you doing.”

“I think you know what I’m doing.” Her quiet words dripping with liquor. “I know you want to fuck me.”

I wanted to react – groan, touch, confirm, deny – but I couldn’t.

It can’t be me. It won’t be me.

She must’ve noticed my hesitation, probably knowing exactly why. So she offered a solution.

“If we don’t touch it won’t count, it never happened” Like she was making a silent deal with me. A silent horny deal.

I knew this was gonna fuck things up, but I couldn’t stop myself, I wanted her. I needed her. There was no turning back now.

She massaged herself against my now throbbing member and let out a delicate moan into my neck, only adding to the problem. My hands finally found relief when they slid up her bare thighs, squeezing harder the further up they got. I locked eyes with her, translating my agreeance to her bargain before grasping her hips. Gripping onto them, taking control of her movements. I bore her down onto my cock causing a sharp gasp from her lips.

This was so fucking weird. We shouldn’t be doing this. I never thought we’d end up here. Dancing, touching, sleeping next to each other – those were one thing. They could be dismissed, but this – there was no coming back from this. But I couldn’t stop.

She grinded back down against me, rocking back and forth. Falling onto my shoulder, she let out small sporadic, weak whimpers.

Hiding her face further in my neck, in a needy breath, “You’re big.” Her tone suggested that she didn’t think I would be. “I think the biggest I’ve ever felt.”

A deep guttural groan escaped me from her agonizing words, my hands now firmly directing her grinding. My fingers curled into her hipbones. “I need to feel you baby.” The word surprising me. I’d never called her that before, I never pictured myself calling her that. It felt good, natural, as if that’s what I should’ve been calling her this whole time.

“We can’t. No touching.” She reminded.

“It feels a lot like we’re touching right now.” I countered.

“It’s different, there’s clothes between us.”

Right, because that makes a difference.

She sped up, desperately needing friction. I swiftly wrapped my arms around her waist drawing her even closer to duck into her neck. It was my turn.

“You like feeling what you do to me?” Quietly just under her ear, holding her firm against me denying any form of escape.

She nodded eagerly.

“You thinking about what I’d feel like inside of you?” I loved asking questions during sex, I found it quite effective at making girls fall apart. Forcing them admit their filthiest thoughts out loud always seemed to release any sort of hidden inhibitions. It was also helped to chip away at any pitiful dominance they thought they obtained.

“Mhm.” Sounding so needy, it made me want to destroy her completely. I was writhing beneath her like my cock had only ever ached for her.

“I can feel how wet you are, who made you that wet baby? ” My voice resembled a growl. She squeaked, going silent, even her body halted. “Answer the question.” My fingers digging into her hips, demanding an answer.

“You.” She muttered out weakly. Pathetically.

I steered her hips to move again. “I can’t hear you.”

She whimpered, a bit louder, “You did.”

“Hm, not good enough.” My arms moving her hips effortlessly, guiding her heat into me. “Who? Who made you so fucking wet that you've soaked through our clothes?”

She bucked forward, hiding in my neck. “You did.” Her whine much louder now, “You make me so fucking wet, Aus.”

Something about her saying my name in that tone was making me feral. She slipped up - make not made. This wasn't the first time.

She sped even more though I didn’t know if it was for her own pleasure or asking me for praise.

“That’s it, good girl.” My hands roamed free, grazing and gripping at every curve of her voluptuous body, I couldn’t fucking get enough. Thought of her actually around me, riding me was numbing my brain. I wanted to fuck her senseless. I wanted to make her cry.

Her moans quicker, weaker. Her hips moving even faster. She was driving me closer and closer to my own demise which was not something that could normally happen from just grinding. But there was so much pent up tension and she was so fucking tantalizing, forbidden, captivating. She had me in some sort of fucked up carnal trance.

“Darlin’ if you keep going like that, you’re gonna cum right in your panties.” I reminded, she only squirmed more. “Is that what you want? Or would you rather cum in my mouth?”

“Aus, I’m so close.” She begged, ignoring my question and clutching my shirt. Her movements becoming more and more erratic.

“Me too baby.” My hands slipped under her shirt feeling her body, rising up her back pulling her closer. “I want you to cum on me darlin', I want your cum on my cock.”

I gazed up at her taking in how luminous she was in that moment – desperate, needy, on the brink of her orgasm. Everything I ever wanted was right there. Every moan, every face, every word I ever imagined, playing out right in front of me. Every edge of her body, every curve of her skin, every part of herself that she hated was so fucking beautiful. Like I somehow had a literal angel in my lap. If I was a religious man I'd be thanking god right now.

My body felt as though it was filled with bees, buzzing, stinging. Any place she was touching me felt like fire. A knot built in my stomach, my own climax threatening to engulf me at any moment.

“I want you to cum with me,” She stated, movements so desperate, sloppy. “I want you to cum in your pants.”

I groaned loudly, bucking my hips up into her. I was so fucking hard, so close. But I wanted her to finish first.

She leaned down and whispered, “I want you to pretend you’re draining inside me.”

That was it, that’s what sent me over the edge. She kept rubbing against me until a string of moans and curses ribboned from her mouth as she came with me. All the buzzing feeling in my body rushed through my cock and spilled into my sweatpants under her. My cum and her juices mingled between the fabrics that divided us. The climax vibrated my entire body, blinding my vision with flashes of burning white as I was still twitching beneath her.

She went limp on my shoulder, breathing heavily in time with mine. But she wasn’t done. She kept rocking against me. “I wanna do it again.” She muttered, coiling her fist in my shirt. Reaching between us, she tugged her panties to the side before grinding her bare clit on my covered length.

“Fuck.” I grunted, this one came from deep in my chest. I never went soft.

“I’ve never done that before.” She said softly. “I wanna do it again.”

“Came? You’ve never came before?”

“Not with someone.” She breathed out.

“Els—”

“Please Austie? I need to cum again.” Her voice drenched with pathetic pleading.

Fuck

My fingers dug into her full sides as she swiveled against me again. I wished I could make her finish properly, with my cock, or even better – my mouth. God, I wanted to taste her. I needed to savor her. “Let me taste you baby. Let me make you cum with my mouth.” Every time I said that word it was followed by a wash of warmth – now that I said it, I didn’t want to stop.

“We – We can’t.” She stuttered as if she was forgetting why we even had this stupid rule.

“I won’t be inside you. It won’t count.” We were just making up stipulations at this point.

She pulled off and laid on the couch facing me. Her cheeks tinted pink, brown curls tussled, eyes both excited and embarrassed. My eyes trailed her hand as it slithered down between her spreading thighs. Slipping a hand under her panties and began rubbing herself with two fingers.

Fuck. I was rock hard again.

“No touching.” She breathed out in a weak try at a command. I think she meant that I could just watch, but I wasn’t letting that happen.

I leaned down, peppering kisses up her plump thighs. If she didn’t want to kiss me, doesn't mean I didn’t. Just because she didn’t want to use her mouth on me, doesn’t mean I didn’t want to use mine. She stilled and observed me, not stopping me this time. When I reached her core, I pulled her fingers from herself and sucked them clean. She looked at me in complete awe. I hooked a finger around the soaked panties and tugged them to the side. Dipping my head between her legs, I slid my tongue up her slit.

A loud gasp, “Aus!”

I moved my tongue flat, spreading her more. Then, rolled against her swollen nub.

“Fuck.” A hand shoving into my hair tugging slightly. Her reaction suggested she’d never had someone eat her out. At least not well.

I moved my tongue deliberately against her heat, circling her sensitivity.

“God – fuckin – jesus.” She mumbled.

I slipped two fingers into her, curling up into her sweet spot. A shriek came from her mouth. Had she never had someone touch that before either?

That made me want to give her everything, make her feel everything. I wanted to make her cum over and over in every way possible. I wanted every orgasm to be because of me. Whether I was touching her or not. Whether I was with her or not. I wanted any inkling of pleasure that ever trickled between her thighs to be because of me. If she was going to stay with Nox, I wanted her to remember that her ‘best friend’ fucks her better. And she hadn’t even had my cock inside her.

Rolling moans came from her mouth as my tongue and fingers moved rhythmically together. I ate her like I had lived on crumbs my whole life.

“Aus I’m so close- fuck.” She gripped my hair.

“Fuck fuck, I’m gonna come.” She let out loud moans as she climaxed. Her legs clamped around my head, but I forced them open, her walls contracting around my fingers.

I wanted more.

The fingers kept rolling into her spot, my tongue gentle on her sensitive bundle. Gasps flowed out of her, her eyes wide as saucers, her mouth agape. She was so deprived, falling apart at anything I did, so hungry and desperate.

“Oh – Oh, fuck.” She tugged at my hair again, letting out another moan. This time even louder.

I lifted just for a second, "You taste so fucking good baby." Then my tongue going back to work, gentle and delicate not wanting to overstimulate her. Working just enough to entice her climax once more.

“Fuck fuck fuck Austin!” She screamed. Screamed. Barely decipherable curses, moans, shrieks followed, my name interrupting each one. Her back arching sharply away from the sofa and releasing once again on my fingers. I continued my movements inside her to ride out her last high. Finally when her moans calmed and she squirmed wildly, I slid my fingers out of her then licked them clean. She was breathless and disheveled in front of me.

Not only had I made her orgasm for the first time, I made it happen three times in a row. And I didn’t even fuck her.

Dragging the back of my hand across my mouth, wiping her juices off me. I fell next to her, my body returning to its extension of the couch. It was then when the high bobbed back into me. Everything was slow and heavy again.

She stayed still next to me in the same position I left her - legs spread, her own cum dripping down onto the shirt. She looked an absolute disaster, but like a fuckin' dream to me.

Am I dreaming? Did that really just happen?

No fucking way, I must’ve been dreaming. I must’ve passed out.

I couldn’t look at her. It would start me up all over again, and I could barely move.

She closed her legs beside me and retracted backwards, pulling her knees into her chest. She wrapped her arms around them and rested her chin on her knees. She wanted to say something, I could feel it.

What would she say in my dream?

“Um- I um- thank you.” She croaked out, her voice raspy from the sinful noises she’d made just minutes ago.

My weighted eyelids slowly blinked at the ceiling, “Mhm.”

If I wasn’t so high, I would’ve said something else. But I was grateful that I couldn’t.

Next Chapter: 16 - When The Night Ends

disclaimer: i haven't written smut in a long time so i apologize if i'm a bit rusty - i hope you enjoyed regardless

thanks for all the love on forever winter - i appreciate every like, reblog and comment, they mean the world to me xx

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therandomficwriter · 3 years ago

Text

Lovesick

Who: Paul Lahote

What: Reader has a crush on Paul but starts to get distant after he starts showing interest in a girl. Embry is there to console reader soon gaining the attention of Paul.

Request: No

A/N: I was so surprised that I hadn’t written a Paul imagine till now! But this idea came up and I thought he would work perfect for it! I kinda want to write an imagine for at least one of each Wolfpack member so I’m working on that. Also Please don’t forget to check out the link!⇒ ( ◠‿◠ )

The sun was slowly setting, casting hues of oranges, pinks, and purples. The smoke from the crackling fire was all that could be smelt along the beach.

You had been friends with the pack for quite a while and they had invited you to a bonfire, to which you happily agreed. Though, if you were being honest, the real reason you accepted was to be able to hang out with Paul.

Not really knowing when it happened, you had fallen for him a long time ago. There was just always something about him the drew you in and the rest was history.

Staring out to the water, you thought about the hot headed boy, that is, until someone had broken you out of your daydreams. Feeling the sand come at you, you shout in protest looking to see who the culprit was.

“Hey quit thinking about your boyfriend and come join the fun.” Embry chuckled at the bewildered look you spotted.

Feeling your cheeks heat up, you quickly protested.

“He is not my boyfriend. And I wasn’t thinking about him!”

“Yeah, but you wish he was.” Quil teases.

“Oh shut up would you two!”

They had constantly teased you since your school days after they had figured out your little crush. You all had been the best of friends which is how you had come to know the pack. Though you had always been the closest to them.

Before their teasing got worse, you swiftly decided to join them in a game of soccer to get them off your back which luckily worked. Taking a quick look around, you sigh not seeing the person you were looking for, before starting the game.

The setting sun soon went dark, making way for the moon and stars to light the sky. You all made your way to the logs to sit down to catch your breathing before the stories began. But still there was no sign of the person you were hoping for.

“Hey does anyone know where Paul is?” You heard Jared ask.

Then the rough voice you had come to love made it way through the air. The quick footsteps coming to a halt as soon as they were close enough.

“Sorry I’m late guys I was uh, busy with a couple things.” He said with uncertainty.

The tone in his voice confused you, but you chose not to say anything. Until Sam spoke up adorning a smirk.

“A couple of things huh?” The knowing sound of Sam’s voice came.

You could tell there was something the guys weren’t saying, all of them seemingly knowing what exactly he was up to. Then you remembered them telling you something about a mind link, and you knew they could hear his thoughts.

“So Paul who’s this mystery girlfriend you were with?” Jared said with amusement.

Knowing he had been caught, not hiding the grin on his face, he shrugged.

“Her name is Rachel.” He said not bothering to deny the accusations of her being his girlfriend.

At the words coming out of his mouth you swore you felt you heart drop to your stomach. You kept quiet all the while the boys were teasing Paul for not telling them sooner.

Embry shot you a quick questioning glance wanting to know if you were okay. You simply smiled back at him not wanting to ruin the night. The excitement eventually worn down and the stories began as the night went on.

Growing cold from the crisp night air, you rubbed your hands along your arms hoping to keep yourself warm. Noticing your discomfort, Embry quietly offered to warm you up, and you gladly accept.

Already being used to the closeness, he wrapped his arm around your side pulling you to him to keep you warm, your head resting on his shoulder. Neither of you noticing the glances a certain someone threw your way.

After that night Paul mentioned Rachel as much as he could and soon brought her to meet everyone. She was absolutely gorgeous, no wonder Paul liked her so much. But to you, this meeting solidified the reality that they were most likely an item.

Your mood dropped, heart breaking more than you thought possible at this fact. Embry thought that maybe a little time away from Paul would do you some good, so you began pulling back from him.

The banter and the conversations you used to share with Paul were now close to nonexistent. Of course you were still polite to him answering in short intervals anytime he would talk to you, not quite meeting his eyes.

This whole process wore you down, just wishing more than anything you would have been brave enough to tell him how you felt. Luckily Embry was there every step of the way.

Any spare time you had was spent hanging out with him. He was your number one supporter. He knew that this thing with Paul was taking a toll on your emotions.

Unbeknownst to you, this not only took a toll on you, but Paul as well. As the weeks passed his temper got worse, feeling agitated all the time. He wasn’t used to not being able to talk to you.

You were his friend after all and to see that you were actively going out of your way to avoid him was hurting in ways he didn’t understand. It was all becoming to much for him and one day he took it upon himself to get to the bottom of this.

The sky was cast with grey as clouds blocked the sun from peeking through. You were heading to Emily’s house for the pack movie night which Embry invited you to. You begrudgingly agreed, not too excited to see Paul there with Rachel.

Taking your time to get there, you decided to walk there to give you time to get your thoughts in order. Hearing the leaves crunch under you, your eyes cast down watching your every step. Then a voice cut through your thoughts.

“Hey Y/N wait up!”

You froze in place at that voice you knew so well. Glancing back you noticed Paul making his way straight towards you. Coming back to your senses you slowly start walking giving him time to catch up.

He makes it to your side swiftly falling in tandem with your steps. Walking in silence for a bit, you wanted so many times to say something but you chose to stay silent, till you realized he was alone.

“Where’s Rachel?” You asked, inwardly cringing from how awkward you sounded.

“She was busy today so she couldn’t really make it.” He said scratching the back of his neck.

You hummed at his words, continuing on your way to the house without another sound. The silence had caused you to notice a lot and you could tell Paul wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” Paul asked finally working up the courage to say something.

Stopping completely at that, you wracked your brain for what to say next.

“I haven’t been ignoring you, I’ve just been a bit busy lately.” The lie falling straight out of your mouth.

“Oh don’t give me that shit, I know you’ve been avoiding me.” He said growing agitated.

“No I-” you tried before getting interrupted.

“Was it something I said or something I did?” He asked again.

“What, Paul, no it’s just-”

He began to speak again, “Well then what? You’re obviously doing this for a reason! Why can’t you just tell me what-”

“ITS BECAUSE I LOVE YOU OKAY?!” Your breathing becoming labored, eyes slowly glossing over with unshed tears.

Thunder rumbling the ground announced the oncoming rain. Soon droplets began falling, the sky now crying for the lovesick teen.

“I love you... and you love her. You don’t know how long I have wished you would just look at me the way you look at her. But I know that’ll never happen because I’m already too late.” The tears streaming down your face mixing with the downpour.

“Now if you’ll excuse me I’d just like to go.” Turing around, you started walking from the direction you once came from just wanting more than anything to get away.

“How do you know?!” He yelled after you stopping you dead in your tracks.

“What?” You whispered.

He wanted more than anything to reach out for your hand but he knew better. His body was shaking with emotions, he didn’t know whether or not he’d shift.

He continued on, “How do you know I’d never look at you that way. Never once did you look me in my eyes to know that. You had been ignoring me for a while now and I’m sick of it. You don’t even know how aggravating it is to know that you’re able to talk and be open with everyone but me. Constantly tucking tail every time I come your way, it’s infuriating.”

Your mind couldn’t comprehend everything he was telling you, as the tears continued to fall.

“And then seeing you cozying up to Embry, it was hard to control my anger. I constantly wanted to knock him out every time he got close to you. God I wished I could’ve been in him place.”

Finally having enough of his speech you voiced your thoughts.

“Paul why are you even telling me all this? You shouldn’t be saying stuff like that when you have Rachel.”

He chuckled humorlessly before continuing, “Y/N I have liked you for the longest time but I always thought you had a thing for Embry, so I figured I should just move on. Then I met Rachel and I thought maybe this just might work but it didn’t. You just ended up getting closer to him and it pissed me off. Rachel figured out how I felt about you and she understood because we were never really dating to begin with.”

As he was saying all this he started walking closer just wanting to be near you.

“Y/N I have been drawn to you from the moment I met you. I just knew you had to be the one. I promise I’ll love you with everything I have. Just please look at me.” He finished hands reaching up to cup your face.

Your eyes were shut tight trying to take in all this new information. At the feeling of his rough palms on your cheeks, you leaned into his touch, enjoying the warmth radiating from them. Slowly you open you eyes and look up connecting yours to his beautiful brown orbs.

Neither of you felt the world around you anymore. It was like the world fell around you and all that was left was you and him. Both teen felt like they were the happiest people alive finally getting their other half.

You giggled as the happy tears continued falling down your face. Paul looked at you with love filling his eyes, quickly wiping the drops from your face. Still holding you in his hand, his eyes dropped to your lips.

“Can I please kiss you?” He asked.

Shyly nodding, you began to lean in, hands reaching up to rest on his shoulders, your eyes closing along the way. He leaned down finally closing the distance as your lips connected.

It was like everything you had dreamed of and more. He was so warm and inviting you wished you could stay like this forever. Taking your time you both savored the feeling of finally being together neither of you breaking apart, till you finally had to come up for air.

Breaking the kiss you leaned back with Paul slightly following not quite wanting it to be over. You both staring at each other with adoration completely forgetting where you were.

Thunder soon rumbled the ground again breaking you guys from your bubble, quickly realizing you were both soaked to the bone.

Paul chuckled before grabbing your hand.

“Let’s get you to the house before you catch a cold.”

You swiftly agreed just wanting to warm up after having been out here for a while.

The once grey sky began to brighten, the sun shining through the cloud lighting up the two lovers, rain slowing to a sprinkle.

Maybe being lovesick wasn’t so bad after all.

A/N: I really loved writing this story I thought it was so cute! I hope you guys liked it! Please feel free to request because I currently have only one request and I’d love to get some more! Also I’m almost to 100 followers and I have something special coming up for it!

#twilight #twilight imagine #twilight x reader #twilight hc #twilight wolf pack #paul lahote #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x reader #alex meraz

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undiscovered-horizon · 3 years ago

Text

Imagine being taken back to Wenwu's compound along with Shang-Chi, Xialing and Katy. Seeing the room in which Shang-Chi spent most of his tragic childhood leads to a heartfelt conversation between him and you.

Truthfully, it didn't look like a boy used to live there. The room was quite empty and lacked character as if it was closer to a ryokan, or rather jiuguan considering the area, than a home. There was only a bed and a tall log with circular dents and some incisions caused by woodworms. The room was separated from the master bedroom by a pair of sliding doors.

It felt special to be there: you could experience a fraction of the growing up Shang-Chi had. The scarce furnishing was, surprisingly, quite telling about his childhood: sleeping and training were his only activities.

Ever since you got off the helicopter, Shang-Chi seemed distant, absent as if something so intense occupied his mind he couldn't focus on anything else. Any attempt at conversation with him was futile: his mind was miles away, focused on something you couldn't even begin to guess the nature of. His face showed mostly worry and anxiety, something that wasn't a surprising observation given the situation you had found yourselves in.

You entered the room after Shang-Chi, carefully watching what the absent-minded man was doing; you wanted to know what took over his mind, simply out of worry as he has never been as quiet as he was then. Still as if not acknowledging your existence, he approached the dented log.

Shang-Chi's hand gently run down the old, worn-out wood - a sensation so familiar to him he was unsure how he could ever forget about its existence. He balled his right hand into a fist and placed it in the deepest dent, although it was still smaller than his hand: years had gone by since his fist was of that size. His face remained in thought as if Shang-Chi was remembering a memory he had diligently kept away; as if he looked at an old scar and suddenly remembered how much the wound had hurt.

Feeling your heart sink, you thought to yourself that you had to do something, to somehow get him out of the dark headspace he was venturing into.

You put your hands around his fist and pulled it away from the dent. Shang-Chi wasn't protesting, he let you lead his arm. Remaining as gentle as your heartache forced you to be, you brought his scarred hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles softly. Looking into those anxious eyes of his, you put his warm hand against your cheek. To him the sensation felt almost too familiar: his hand as if against its owner's will cupped your cheek, his thumb gently moving against your skin.

"The boy who made those dents would be proud of the man you had become," you said quietly to him and kissed the inside of his palm. His eyes were sad but in an oddly melancholic way. It was such a look that one has when one realizes the fleetingness of a moment while it still lasts: it was a look of someone foolish enough to wish to stop the time, begging the merciless gods for the seconds to be longer than they usually are. It was an emotion he hasn't felt in long years, the feeling of home, of comfort brought by something bigger than him.

Shang-Chi stepped forward to embrace you as tight as he could. It was, partially, quite pathetic: it was the same embrace a child gives their favorite plushie after their mother turns off the light. It was a hug of the desperate search for comfort, for grounding. You could feel his shaky breath on your neck. He was a brave, skilled, and strong man that was holding on to you for his dear life.

"My grandfather used to say something whenever I cried, you know?" you whispered softly into his ear. "What is to give light must endure burning. And you, love, might just be the brightest of lights I have ever seen."

For a moment you stared into his eyes with a small, comforting smile on your lips, trying to make sure you get the point across. Then you tilted his head slightly forward and planted a soft, long kiss on his forehead.

Little did you know, Wenwu watched the two of you through a small crack between the doorframe and the sliding doors. He was calmly sipping on his tea and pondering the curious scene that unfolded in front of him. Was his son happy with that woman? Did his son love her as much as Wenwu loved the mother of his children? Would Shang-Chi go to such great lengths as he was to retrieve what he loved? If he did, then he shouldn't be so surprised about Wenwu's plan. If anyone was to understand the pain and longing, it would be him.

Wenwu couldn't bear to look at the couple any longer. It pained him unimaginably that he had all of that one day but was robbed of it.

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storyofmychoices · 3 years ago

Text

The Path Forward

[Troy Hassan x Astraea Callen Masterlist]

Pairing: Troy Hassan x Astraea Callen (F!MC) Book: Wake the Dead: Chapter 3 Word Count: ~1,100 Rating :General—hurt/comfort Warning: WtD chapter 2 spoilers, angst, canon character death

Synopsis: Troy wants to help Astraea deal with Brynn's death.

Her feet moved forward, her body unable to do anything but trod along. She followed Eli and the others, leading the way—away from the cottage, away from the drones, away from her sister. The cool of the forest kept her numb. The tears she shed earlier ceased at the sound of that scream, that blood-curdling scream, a sound she'd never forget, never move past; her sister's scream would haunt her.

Maybe if she hadn't been so curious, if she hadn't ruffled feathers, if she hadn't asked questions, if she hadn't been so bold, maybe they wouldn't have come for her, maybe Brynn would still be alive.

The light of dawn broke above them, trickling through the trees, lighting the path before them. Was it morning already? She had appreciated the darkness and silence the night had brought. The darkness shielded her from the looks of mourning and pity. The silence saved her their consoling words that would bring no comfort.

"We need a plan," Dirk spoke, breaking the quiet. "Where are we going? We can't keep walking aimlessly through the woods, unprepared for whatever waits ahead of us. We won't survive that way. We need a plan."

"I can't even keep this up." Shannon slowed to a halt, leaning against the nearest tree for support. "My legs feel like jelly."

"We don't have time for this! We have to keep going." Astraea stated, moving past her fellow survivors who paused to rest. "This isn't what Brynn wanted."

"Agreed. Yet, we need somewhere defensible to set up camp and regroup." Eli surveyed the treeline in all directions to ensure their safety for a moment's reprieve. "We need a plan."

Astraea threw her head back, letting out a frustrated groan. She wanted to keep moving, needed it; sitting still would only give her time to think, and thinking would lead to reconciling with the previous night's events.

"Astraea and I can scout ahead while you take a break," Troy suggested.

"What?" She protested; that's not what she had meant.

"Thank you." Shannon slid to the ground, closing her eyes as she settled on the soft moss covering the forest floor.

"You got them?" Troy questioned, to which Eli offered a curt nod.

"Troy!" She protested as he walked away, heading into the unknown wilderness around them. She trudged after him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked when they were out of the group's earshot.

"Does it look like I want to talk about it?" Astraea snapped coldly.

It wasn't a side of her he was used to seeing. "Astraea."

Tears pricked in the corner of her eyes at the sound of her name. It wasn't filled with his usual joyful, teasing tone. It was quiet, somber, honest, cutting through her hardened facade with one word.

"Don't," she uttered, holding back the tears.

"Let me in." His words were soft, a request, not a demand. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

She didn't pull away. She didn't have it in her. Her legs buckled, threatening to give out under the weight of her grief.

He drifted closer, wrapping an arm around her, leading her to a nearby fallen log.

Wordlessly, the two sat, the forest surrounding them eerily quiet; at least it was better than the alternative, the groans and calls of drones nearing them or the screams of her new friends meeting an untimely fate.

Screams.

Her body shuddered as the memory of Brynn's ear-shattering scream followed by the final gunshot replayed in her mind. She shook her head, fighting to push down the memory, to bury it under the rubble that collapsed the tunnel, stranding the only family she had on the other side.

He watched the internal battle warring on her face. He wanted to help, to take her pain away, but he couldn't. No quip about an old-world film or reference would help her. He wished he could tell her she wasn't alone; she still had him. But, who was he when she had just lost her sister, the only family she had left? He was nothing that could heal her. If he could've taken Brynn's place to save Astraea this heartbreak, he would have. If he had been more, maybe he could have saved her. If only he were the hero he had always thought himself to be. But, he was a coward, running instead of fighting. He imagined himself as this great adventurer, but he was just a thief who made his way stealing from those braver than he. Astraea needed more; she deserved better.

He had nothing to offer her, so he sat beside her, giving her space to breathe.

Those dire moments played over and over like a record skipping—a broken record, or at least that's how Troy had explained it once before. Brynn had fought so hard, survived so much; she deserved more than these silent tears. Brynn hadn't given her life for her sister to sit and cry like a child. She had to be strong. She had to keep going, keep fighting.

Her sobs only grew louder now, knowing the path forward would be without Brynn. Unable to control her cries, she turned into Troy, burying her face in his shoulder, letting his body muffle the sounds of her pain.

Before he could process it, his arms enveloped her, guarding her, protecting her, sheltering her from all harm. He rested his head on hers. His body warmed as shame rushed through him at the thought—at least it wasn't her. At least it wasn't Astraea. She was still here. Broken, but alive.

He had only come back for her. If it had been her. If he had lost her. His eyes squeezed shut. He didn't even want to think about it. He couldn't.

Her body relaxed as her cries subsided. She slumped in his arms, fatigue falling heavily on her. She breathed deeply, inhaling the woodsy scent around them mixed with the familiar, but uniquely him, fragrance of his Axe body spray. He had said it was what real men used in the old-world, and he figured it had a cutting advantage over the bland new-world soap. She had told him once that body spray couldn't literally turn him into a weapon or make him more skilled with an axe, and yet, she loved his insistence on it, as well as the many attempts he made to wield a battle-axe until she had taught him properly.

A smile tugged at her lips. No matter how isolated she felt at the moment, she wasn't alone. At least she had him. The path forward wouldn't be easy, but she had Troy. For better or worse, she was stuck with him, and she wouldn't want it any other way.

Thank you for reading! This is my first time writing these two so I hope it isn't terrible?

I'll be tagging my Choices Perma tag in a reblog. Please let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list (Perma or Troy) or if you're in my Perma tag but don't want to read Wake the Dead.

#troy hassan #troy hassan x mc #troy wtd #wake the dead #choices wtd #choices #playchoices #choices game #fan fiction #astraea #troy x astraea #april2022 #lovealexhunt #somc

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years ago

Note

🥺 babe 🥺 bAbE

What if Jask gets sick at Kaer Morhen but tries to hide it from Geralt bc he doesn't want him to think he's gross/weak/etc? And Geralt has the Feelings Braincell for once?

oh babe... thank you

tw: sickness, falling unconscious, fever, whump/angst with a happy ending

---

Jaskier knew he had a fever the moment he woke up. He could feel it burning beneath this skin like a forge, flushing his face a more vibrant shade of pink than usual. He glared at his reflection in the small, round mirror above his dressing table and willed himself to feel better. It was his first winter at Kaer Morhen, and he didn’t want Geralt to think he’d made a mistake by inviting Jaskier along to stay. The bard knew that his stoic, self-loathing Witcher would blame himself immediately for any misfortune or illness that befell Jaskier. Geralt might even reconsider inviting him back again someday. So he had to keep his little bug a secret until he was well. Surely it was nothing major. Surely it would pass after a few days, unnoticed and unremarkable.

He should have known better.

Jaskier dabbed a bit more perfume than usual (which was generally none at all) beneath his ears and along his wrists. He hoped the peony-lavender mixture would mask whatever kind of scent his illness might carry and slowly, carefully made his way down the long stone staircase that led from the guest bedroom to the enormous kitchen. His limbs felt achy and tired, even though he’d slept heavily the night previous. His head sat heavy and unbalanced atop his shoulders; the world wavered and spun around him as he desperately tried to keep from pitching sideways into the wall.

“You alright there, boy?” Vesemir asked, catching his eye from the bottom of the stairs. “You seem a bit… nervous.”

Maybe his anxiety was doing a better job of hiding his secret than the perfume.

“Just a little wool between my ears this morning,” the bard laughed brightly, ignoring the searing pain that throbbed through his chest with the movement, “I think I might go chop some wood and see if the brisk mountain air helps clear it out faster.”

“Hmm,” the eldest Wolf nodded sagely. There was no doubt which teacher Geralt had admired most as a pup. “Alright. Be safe, take care. I’ll send someone to fetch you when breakfast is ready.”

“Thank you, Vesemir,” Jaskier bowed shallowly and headed for the kitchen’s back door. He took the axe into his hands and tried not to sway on his feet from the added weight. The bard covered his tracks by throwing a smile back over his shoulder and pushing the door open. “See you for breakfast!”

He stepped out of the keep and let the heavy slab of wood slam shut behind him. The early morning sky above Kaer Morhen was cloudless and the sun was bright, blinding him entirely. His situation only worsened when the sudden change in temperature, from the warm kitchen to the freezing mountainside, punched the air from his lungs in one thick cloud. He struggled to regain it as he wove his way through the snow drifts to the woodpile. Slowly, and with great effort, Jaskier lined up a thick log to be split.

The world felt watery and far away. His hand, which he knew to be attached to the end of his arm by some miracle, would not obey his command to pick up the axe again. His lungs felt heavy in his chest cavity and his legs suddenly ached with a fierce intensity.

With a quiet cry of protest against his own body failing him, Jaskier collapsed into the snow.

---

Jaskier’s heartbeat was so slow and quiet, his limbs unmoving and his lips nearly blue from the cold; Geralt wasn’t sure he’d ever been so scared before in his life. He turned to Vesemir and asked, barely keeping the frantic terror from clawing its way out of his throat: “How long was he out there?”

“Half an hour at most,” the grey Wolf shrugged. “I don’t really remember, Geralt. I was busy taking care of the breakfast arrangements.”

“Fuck!”

“Calm down,” Eskel ordered. He frowned at Geralt from his place at Jaskier’s opposite side. He’d helped carry the bard from the courtyard to Geralt’s room and was just as worried about the human’s wellbeing. “Panicking won’t help him. Now, what’s the problem?”

“It’s hard to tell over all that stupid perfume,” Lambert snarled. “Stupid fucking bard fucking knew we would be able to smell it on him. He covered his gods-damned tracks.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt murmured, having grown suddenly calm. He let the back of his knuckles drag softly across the bard’s too-hot cheek until he could stick a stray lock of sweaty brown hair back behind his ear. “You idiot.”

The bard shifted against the blanket they’d laid him on, his brow wrinkling. His arms twitched slightly, as if he was trying to move them, and he whined plaintively: “G’ralt.”

“I’m here, Jask,” the Witcher replied quickly, forgetting they weren’t alone in the room. He took one of the bard’s freezing hands into his own and began rubbing the warmth back into his fingers. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you better. You’ll be alright.”

“Who are you trying to reassure?” Lambert huffed a short laugh. “You or the bard?”

“Leave off,” Eskel shot his younger brother a glare. The redhead rolled his eyes and moved to lean against the wall near the door. Eskel continued speaking to Lambert, but his eyes were back on Jaskier, who kept trying to get closer to Geralt even in his sleep. “Why don’t you go grab some clean clothes from his room while we get him warmed up and conscious again.”

“Fine,” Lambert spat. But he took off at a quick trot, regardless.

“Geralt, get his wet clothes off and get him wrapped up. Eskel, you come with me to the kitchen. I’ll need help carrying things and I’m sure the bard would prefer some privacy in this particular matter.”

Eskel nodded his agreement and followed Vesemir from the room, leaving Geralt alone with Jaskier. The White Wolf hurried to undress and swaddle the bard with a warm, heavy wool blanket and several furs, talking all the while in a low, worried voice. “Fuck, Jaskier. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry this happened and that you- Why did you hide it? Why wouldn’t you- Are you afraid of me? Is that why you didn’t come to me for help?”

Jaskier’s lids fluttered open and Geralt watched with nervous anticipation as two of the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen, blue as cornflowers and brighter than the spring sky, tried their best to focus on his face. “Geralt?”

“I’m here, Jaskier. What’s ailing you? Please, tell me how I can help you.”

“Hurts,” the bard managed to groan. “To breathe.”

“Fuck,” Geralt growled. “We need to get you warm. Lambert should be back with your clothes by now.”

Jaskier’s head lolled back against the pillow and he struggled to reach for his Witcher, “Hold me.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll warm up-” he gasped between words, as if every syllable pained him to expel “-faster if… you hold me.”

“Hmm,” Geralt’s brows furrowed in frustration. He knew Jaskier was right, that he’d feel better faster with skin-on-skin contact, but he also wanted to hold Jaskier for other, less emergency-based reasons. That was unacceptable. Losing Jaskier to death or sickness or other human reasons was intolerable but losing him, in all senses of the word, because of Geralt’s impossible feelings? That would be truly horrendous.

The warring factions of his heart were still clamoring over a decision when Eskel and Vesemir re-entered carrying two large trays. One was covered with foodstuffs and the other held an enormous clay teapot and mugs. A small pot of honey, gathered from Vesemir’s very own beehives, was the most obvious sign of affection Geralt had ever seen the older man display for a near-stranger.

“I’m gonna… get… spoiled,” Jaskier gasped. The eldest Wolf shot Geralt a glare.

“Why aren’t you in there with him? You know the best way to warm up a hypothermic person is skin contact, Geralt! I certainly taught you better than this.”

“I didn’t-” he stuttered. “I wasn’t-”

“He’s afraid,” Jaskier smiled sadly, cuddling himself deeper into the furs as he turned his gaze towards the fire. All three of the Witchers could smell his sadness, even more potent than the illness ravaging his delicate human body. Geralt winced when his brother and father glared at him in tandem, expressions nearly matching in fury. The bard was still looking away, watching the flames send dancing patterns of light against the stone walls. “Don’t worry… won’t ask… for any more.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispered, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. “May I hold you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s our cue to leave,” Vesemir smiled beneath his mustache. Jaskier was too tired to blush, and opted to bury his head in Geralt’s shoulder instead. “Come along, Eskel. Let’s see what Lambert has gotten up to.”

“What about Jaskier’s clothes?”

“He can borrow Geralt’s for now. I’m sure our White Wolf won’t mind sharing; he’s the possessive type, after all.”

Geralt rolled his eyes and grumbled out of habit more than disagreement.

When Vesemir and Eskel had gone for good and the door was closed, Geralt pulled Jaskier out of the furs and removed his own shirt. He settled the bard against his chest and buried his nose in Jaskier’s dark hair, breathing in the scents of sweat and sickness and now, thank the gods, tangy-bright happiness. “Gods, Jaskier. Don’t scare me like that ever again. I can’t lose you.”

“I didn’t… want… to disappoint.”

“You never do and never will,” Geralt intoned. He pulled the furs over them both and splayed his large hands across Jaskier’s back. The bard’s skin was overly hot in some places and freezing in others; Geralt buried his panic in order to care for... for the man he loved. He took a deep breath and rubbed slow circles between the bard’s shoulder blades. “I… I love you, Jaskier.”

“Hmm,” the bard hummed tunelessly. “Love you… too.”

Geralt helped him sit up and drink a mug of tea. He listened, slowly allowing himself to relax, as Jaskier’s breathing eased and his heartbeat balanced. When the tea was gone and the fire was re-built to Geralt’s satisfaction, the Witcher tucked Jaskier’s head beneath his chin and wrapped his arms around the bard’s shoulders. “Oh, my little lark. I’ve been so foolish for too long.”

“Yeah,” Jaskier grinned into the Witcher’s warm pectoral. “Me... too.”

“Well, we’ll have plenty of time when you feel better,” Geralt murmured, lips pressing over and over to the top of the bard’s head. Jaskier couldn’t keep himself from smiling, even as he drifted back to sleep. The Witcher felt something settle in his chest when he whispered: “Rest up, dear heart. There are many more adventures to be had.”

#geraskier #sickfic #geraskier sickfic #geraskier fluff #getting together #bouncey's endless getting together fics #jaskier whump #winter at kaer morhen #wifey's prompts #comfy's prompts #anything for you boo #geraskier fluffiness #geraskier ficlet

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

Into The Woods

Warnings: noncon sexual acts; vaginal, anal.

This is dark!Lumberjack!Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re sent to make a delivery to the man in the woods.

Note: This is for @imanuglywombat and @nellblazer‘s Lumberjack Challenge. I couldn’t see if they were accepting dark fics so if they aren’t, I guess it’s just another fic lol. But anyways, the challenge inspired me.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

“You sure Dezy isn’t going to make it?” You asked as you helped Gerry load the crate onto the trailer.

“I’m sorry, I got all the other deliveries sent out with Milo but this one’s too far for him.” Gerry grunted as he closed the back of the open-top trailer. “I don’t know what’s gotten into Dezy. Second day in a row and yet I hear he’s down at the Horse every night.”

“Well, he’ll run out of beer money sooner than later,” You sighed as you pulled on your gloves. The air was starting to bite as the brief autumn was turning. “You sure you can manage without me?”

“Slow day in the shop,” He shrugged. “You just be careful.”

“Alright. I’ll do my best.” You climbed up onto the four-wheeler and fumbled with the thick key with the grizzly bear charm attached to it. “Maybe next time give me the easy ones.”

“I’ll tack an hour of overtime on your pay, how about that?” He chuckled. “You need to get out anyway. I know this place is small but you can’t spend all your time reading those harlequins in the dry good section.”

“They’re not harlequins,” You turned the engine and raised your voice as you gripped the handlebars. “They’re fantasy, Ger.”

“Sure, sure,” He backed away. “You go or you won’t make it back by sundown.”

“Never far off these days,” You mused as you revved. “See ya, Gerry. Don’t forget to down stock the fishing wire.”

“Which one of us is the boss?” He called after you as you pulled out, the small trailer rumbling behind you.

You turned off at the end of the street, past the business fronts that looked like cabins. The town looked straight out of Western but with more snow. The first of the annual powder had yet to fall but you could feel it coming. You headed over the lumpy tundra past the sparse trees that grew thicker the further you got. The paths turned narrower and you steered slowly through the damp forest.

You only went so far out when your uncle took you ice fishing and rarely in this direction. You slowed as the path grew more uneven, carefully traversing the thick roots and deep valleys. The noise of the engine bounced off the trunks of trees around you. It was more than an hour before you reached your destination. At least, you thought you were in the right place. Weren’t too many cabins hidden in these trees; well not many still inhabited.

You pulled into the clearing and killed the engine. You hopped off the ATV and stretched your legs, your thighs tingled from the rumble. You went to the trailer and open the door and slid out the heavy trunk. You braced yourself before you lifted and gave a grunt. You’d packed the load yourself. You carried it past the old motorcycle and the neat stack of wood which marched the way to the broad front porch. You slowly ascended the three steps up and set down the heavy crate beside the door.

A bench made of logs, likely by hand, stood just a few feet from the front door, a woven blanket folded over the seat. The curtains were drawn within and you started to wonder if there was anyone there or if this was just another forgotten scene. It all seemed so eerily still.

You knocked and waited for an answer. Nothing. You tried again with the same result. Then, after a cold silence, you heard a door open and snap shut but it wasn’t the one before you. You turned as a man appeared beside the far corner of the porch. He appeared disturbed by your presence as he emerged from the old shed, his flannel jacket marked with patches of dirt and his dark hair poking out from beneath a woolen cap.

“He usually just leaves it there,” He clapped his gloved hands together as he brushed away the filth. “Thanks.”

“Uh, sorry,” You turned and ambled down the steps. “I didn’t realise.”

“Don’t be sorry,” He stayed near the corner, kicking his foot up onto the stump where an ax waited to be used. “Better get going before the sun beats you.”

“Sure,” You went back to the four wheeler. His eyes bore into you as you climbed up. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just--”

“Thanks,” He said again. “Driving out here all this way. Appreciate it.”

“No problem,” You turned the key. “Have a good day, sir.”

The engine roared to life and you carefully turned around, the empty trailer clattering behind you. You couldn’t help but feel him watching you still. You wanted to look back, but didn’t. You twisted the throttle and delved back through the treeline. You hoped Dezy would get his shit together, you weren’t keen on doing deliveries.

🪓

The next day, you were back to your usual fare. You stood at the long counter of Elk’s General, watching the locals as they wandered in and out, perusing the aisles of groceries, clothing, or novelty goods. You rung them through on the outdated till and smiled after them as they left with their paper bags.

The usual midday lull came and you pressed flat your latest read on the counter. You crossed your arms over the edge and bent over the pages, losing yourself in the fantastical medieval setting. Gerry didn’t mind so much as you kept an eye on customers.

The rusty bell above the entrance tinkled and you looked up suddenly. You turned your book over before you could lose your place. You stood up straight and smiled at your newest customer but froze as his eyes met yours. It was the man from the day before, to whom you had delivered the weeks worth of goods.

He ignored your usual greeting and marched over to you. He planted the bill for his delivery on the counter.

“I ordered six cans of maple beans. I have only four.” He said plainly.

“An oversight. I’m sorry, sir. Just a moment.” You gulped and flitted off to check the shelf. There were only the tomato beans in stock. You went to the back room and checked there. Nothing. You returned to the counter. “Looks like we’re all out but I’ll make a note to have them delivered when we get more. Or we can remove the charge from your bill.”

“Keep ‘em on,” He said as he reached into his pocket. “I can wait.” He unfolded the worn leather wallet. “I have to pay my account anyway.”

“Sure,” You reached to slid his bill closer and keyed the amount into the machine. “You could have called--”

“I don’t have a phone,” He growled as he counted out the bills. “I don’t like to be disturbed.”

You took the money and counted it. You avoided his gaze guiltily. You sorted the bills in the cash door and handed him his change. His gloves brushed your skin and he tucked the money away with his wallet.

“Good book?” He pointed to the novel.

“Alright, so far,” You answered quietly.

“I read his other one. The one set in Ancient Egypt. It was… interesting. Not my usual reading material though.” He tapped his fingers on the counter. “You have a good day, miss.”

He turned and left you as you returned his farewell. The door snapped shut behind him and you looked back down at the book. You opened the front page and read the list of works by the same author. You’d have to look into them.

🪓

Several days late, you were helping Gerry restock shelves with the newly acquired truck. The night before, you’d helped unload it and left it for the next day to sort through. Dezy sat behind the counter, half-keeled over on the stool, trying not to puke into his hands.

“Damn shit is hungover again,” Gerry muttered. “I got a whole list of deliveries today and he can’t even stand straight.”

“I can do it,” You offered. “Long as he can manage the till.”

“I don’t know if I even trust him to do that,” Gerry said. “You sure you wanna do the deliveries?”

“We got any of the maple beans on the truck?” You asked.

“A good amount.” He said.

“We owe two cans to-- well, I didn’t get his name. The man who lives way up in the trees.” You frowned, only then realising you new nothing about him. In that town, everyone knew everyone.

“Mr. Barnes?” Gerry reached over into the box and moved around several items before pulling out a can. “Quiet man. Doesn’t like to be bothered. Must’ve scared Dezy good to get him to shut up.” He took out two more cans. “If you’re willing to head up that way, you give him and extra can on me. He’s the only customer in town who pays on time.”

“Sure,” You stood, thankful not to be forced to kneel all day at the shelves. “The list?”

“Pinned up behind the counter as usual,” He caught a box of Corn Pops he hit with his elbow and swore. “Take a radio. Snow’s comin’.”

“Will do,” You said. “I should be that long.”

“Chill blowin’ in from the lake, bundle up before you go too.” He said.

“You sound like my mother.” You laughed.

“I feel like you’re mother,” He shook his head. “Now go, before I get sentimental.”

🪓

Gerry was right, it was cold. The four-wheeler seemed slower as the wind swirled around you. You stopped by each house and knocked before leaving your haul. You smiled away tips and bid each resident a good day before you rushed away under the protests of another delivery ahead of you.

Your last would take the longest, though it was the smallest. The tree cans rattled around the trailer so you stopped at the shop before you continued on and detached it. You placed the cans in a small box and secured it to the seat behind you with bungee cords. You fixed your gloves and pulled your cap over your ears before you set out once more.

The sky grew paler the later it got. A harbinger of snow. You took the same route as before, getting off once to push the ATV over a fallen branch caught beneath it. You carried on, the frigid air lashing your cheeks.

You drew up to the clearing as you had before. The motorcycle was gone, likely pushed into the shed in preparation for the first snowfall. The piles of wood had grown taller and the front door was open, the screen door a poor barrier to the looming winter.

You unhooked the box and climbed up the steps. You bent to set it down and be off. You looked up as you sensed something on the other side of the screen door. The man, Mr. Barnes, stared at you through the mesh, a mug in hand. You stood and smiled nervously.

“Your beans. An extra can for the inconvenience.” You said. “Have a good day, sir.”

You turned but caught yourself before you made it down one step as he spoke.

“It’s pretty cold.” He remarked as he took the box in his free hand. “You like coffee? I just made a pot.”

“I appreciate it,” You turned to him. “But I don’t mean to impose on you.”

“I wouldn’t ask if you were,” He said stiffly. “I’d feel worse letting half a pot go to waste.”

“I don’t know, I should--” You glanced behind you at the trees.

“You came all this way to give me beans in this,” He held the door with his elbow and stepped through. “You don’t like coffee, I got tea.”

You took a breath as you looked back to him. “Sure. I’ll have some coffee.”

He nodded and stared at you. He blinked and moved to hold the door open. “Well, you wanna come inside? Or do you prefer your coffee frozen?”

“Uh, yeah, okay,” You kicked yourself and stopped right before the door. You smiled awkwardly and offered your name. “I just… figured you wouldn’t want a stranger in your home.”

“Bucky,” He returned and waved you inside. “Not many strangers in town. Not really.”

You entered and he followed you. The entryway was lit by an antique lamp and the front room was entirely dark. You knelt to unlace your boots as he stepped around you. You kept your coat on as the wind continued to seep in behind you.

“Kitchens just down the hall past the stairs,” He said as he continued across the wooden floor.

“Okay,” You slid your boots off and stood, following his shadow to the kitchen.

As you passed through the doorway, he placed his mug on the table and went to the cupboard. He took down another thick ceramic cup and sidled over to the stove. He filled it from the percolator and returned to the table to place it before you.

“Milk? Sugar?”

“I’m fine, black is good,” You accepted as he slid the cup over to you.

You sat, hesitantly, and removed your gloves. You tucked them in your pocket and wrapped your hands around the steaming cup. He pulled out another chair and sat. He looked into the mug and slowly drank from it.

“I didn’t know anyone still lived out here.” You said.

“Sometimes,” He answered carefully. “Spring and summer I spend working the lumberyards south of here.”

“And you live all the way up here?” You wondered. He gave you a sharp look. “Sorry, it’s just… curiosity.”

“I like it,” He shrugged. “It’s quiet.”

You nodded and resigned yourself to silence. You listened to the wind outside and looked around at the tidy kitchen. Most of the original structure remained, renovated but not replaced. Even the curtains seemed to be of another era; faded but without holes or tears. All the way up here, time always seemed to stand still.

“You finish your book?” His voice jolted you.

You looked back to him and sipped the hot coffee. You nodded again.

“I did.” You answered. “It was alright.”

“Just alright?” He asked.

“I’ve read better and worse,” You said. “It was… entertaining.”

“Mmm,” He mumbled and drank his coffee. You mimicked him, eager to leave.

Ten minutes of silence and stunted small talk left your mug empty and your stomach gurgling. You stood and nervously teetered on your feet.

“I should go. It’s snowing already.” You glanced out the window.

“Sure,” He rose and gathered up the mugs and took them to the sink.

“Thank you.” You said and turned rigidly to head through the door.

You trod down the hallway and stopped to pull on your boots. You adjusted your cap and shoved your gloves on. He neared and you pushed open the door and glanced back at him.

“Coffee was good.” You said.

He caught the door behind you and you marched across the porch. You rushed down the steps and shivered as you neared the four wheeler.

“Be careful,” He said in monotone.

“I will, thank you,” You called back as you climb onto the seat. “Enjoy your beans.”

He waved and you turned the engine. You backed up and turned around. The snow had already left a thin powder across the ground. You steered into the trees and carefully began to weave around the trunks and along the uneven forest floor.

The snow thickened the more it fell. You had to slow as the ride became more precarious. The downfall formed a thick carpet beneath the tires and soon, even beneath the shroud of branches, the snow formed a curtain all around you, making it nearly impossible to see. You stopped and left the motor rumbling.

You pulled the radio from its holster down beside the wheel well and turned the dial until you picked up the signal. It was static and crackled.

“Gerry? Gerry!” You held the speak to your lips. “Gerry?”

“Yeah, i--me, ---okay?” His voice went in and out.

“I’m okay but the snow is… I can’t see. It’s going to take me a while.”

“Wha-- breaking up--” The radio broke off with a high pitched scratch.

“Damn it!” You shouted and tried fixing the dial. It didn’t help.

You sat for a moment and put the radio back. You couldn’t stay and let yourself get snowed in. You’d have to keep going, slow but steady. You carefully pulled past the trees, blinking away the flakes as they gathered on your lashes. You stopped again to pulled your scarf higher over your cheeks and pressed on.

The third time you paused, you realised you were lost. A brief lull allowed your vision to clear and you had no idea where you were. You kicked the side of the ATV and cursed. You grabbed the radio again and turned it on.

“Gerry?” No answer. Several more tries with nothing but static.

You hung your head and clicked the radio off. You gripped the handlebars and looked around. You’d have to turn around and try to trace your way back but the snow was starting to get heavy again and--

“Hey,” You jumped as the voice sounded from behind you. “You okay?”

You turned to find Bucky standing by a tree. “How--”

“Looks like you just went in a big circle,” He said. “You’re about ten minutes from my place.”

“What are you doing out here?” You asked.

“Wanted to grab some kindling before the storm got too bad, then I heard you.”

“Kindling?”

“Dry it out, obviously, but might run out of what I have before this clears,” He looked up. “Look, it’s only gonna get worse. Why don’t you wait it out?”

“I don’t-- I can’t--”

“There’s more than enough room for both of us. Might be a bit dusty but… Wouldn’t feel right letting you get lost out here.”

You exhaled and looked at the radio.

“Alright,” You relented.

“I’ll lead the way.” He came up beside the ATV and passed to the front. “Just don’t get too close.”

“Okay,” You turned the throttle just a bit and kept a snail’s pace as he guided you.

He barely seemed bothered by the gusts or the deepening snow. Even as the air turned almost completely white, he didn’t waver though you squinted to keep an eye on him.

“You like beans?” He yelled back to you as he broke through to the clearing around his house.

“Maple beans?” You asked dryly.

“They go great with toast,” He said as he continued onto the shed and unlocked the wide doors. “Warm you right up.”

🪓

You sat at the table, alone. Bucky had excused himself after clearing his own plates. You still picked away at the beans and sausage, listening to the movement above. You scooped the last few bites up and swallowed, washing it down with a gulp of water. You stood and went to the sink to rinse your plate. As you set it in the rack, you were startled by a creak behind you.

“I cleared a bedroom for you. It’s a bit dusty around here.” Bucky said as he leaned against the door frame. “Bit cold, too. Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright,” The windows shuddered. “Better than out there.”

“I put some clothes out too. Might be a little big.” He explained. “Dinner okay?”

“Yeah, it was…” You tried to smile. “Alright. Um, just one second.”

You neared him and he moved aside. You went down the hallway to where your jacket was hung and pulled the radio out. He watched you as you fiddled with it and the speaker crackled on.

“Gerry?” You held it to your lips.

“Kiddo?” He said, clear but not entirely.

“I’m okay,” You said slowly as you held the button down. “Staying until storm clears. Call in morning.”

“Roger, kiddo,” He returned. “Be safe.”

You turned off the radio and placed it back in your coat pocket. You looked up at Bucky as he stared at you dully.

“Just wanted to make sure someone knew,” You said. “Wouldn’t want them to worry.”

“Of course not,” He said. “You want a beer?”

“What?” You were thrown off by the sudden offer.

“Beer. If you want you can grab a book from the study,” He pointed to the doorway opposite the front room. “Sit in front of the fire where it’s warm.”

“I’ll take the book,” You said. “I’m not much for beer though.”

“Hot chocolate? Tea?” He stepped a little closer.

“I’m fine,” You squirmed. “Thank you.”

‘Just let me know if you need anything,” He said softly. “Haven’t had a guest in a while but… I can be accommodating.”

🪓

You read three chapters before you found your way upstairs. Bucky showed you the room he’d prepared for you but didn’t say much more before he closed himself into his own. You changed into the long sleeve tee he left you and the jogging pants with the drawstring waist. You tucked your feet into the wool socks and rolled under the blankets. You were still cold. The top floor was entirely untouched by the fireplace below.

You drifted into a shallow sleep. Maybe an hour or two before you woke, shivering. You sat up and reluctantly climbed out from beneath the covers. You took one of the blankets and wrapped it around you as you shuffled to the door. You slipped through, carefully not to let the hinges whine and plodded through the dark down the stairs.

In the front room, the fire burned a low amber. You crept over to it and took a log from the wrought iron basket just beside it. You placed it over the coals and stoked it with the poker until flames began to lick. You held your hands to the glow until you were no longer shaking.

You took a cushion from the couch and dropped it on the carpet. You laid down before the fire, wrapping yourself in the blanket as you basked in the warmth. You listened to the violent winds outside, softened by the heaps of snow which had gathered all around the cabin. Your eyes closed as you began to sink into the darkness around you.

You dreamt of the four wheeler, of the snow swirling around you, of losing yourself in the pure white. The trees curled and clawed at your as you were thrown from the seat. The snap of twigs filled your ears and your eyes snapped open. The fire popped as it burned, the room lighter but not much.

There was a heaviness around you. More than just the quilt, the thick arm wrapped around your middle held you close to the warmth at your back. Startled, you wriggled against the body and a groan slithered along your ear.

“What the--” You hissed as you grasped his wrist, his hand tucked beneath you. “What are you doing?”

“It’s cold,” His breath was hot as it seeped into your scalp. “You were shivering.”

“Let me go,” You tugged on him.

“Shhh,” He hushed. “It’s early.”

“Dude, not cool,” You pulled harder on his arm.

“Stop,” He said more firmly.

“Get off of me.” You growled.

“You’re not a very gracious guest,” He snarled as he retracted his arm, only to grab your shoulder and push you flat on your back.

You latched onto his wrist, he was strong. He didn’t budge.

“You’re scaring me.”

“Scaring you?” He removed his hand. “How? What do you think I’m gonna do?”

He sat up, his broad shoulder stretched the waffled shirt he wore as he rubbed his eyes. He pushed his head back and took a deep breath. You pushed yourself up slowly beside him.

“What do you want me to do?” His hand settled on your thigh and he squeezed.

“Stop,” You tried to push his hand away and he flipped it to grasp yours.

His grip slipped to your wrist and he twisted. He wrenched it over your head until you were forced onto your back. You cried out as he leaned over you, the blanket slipping entirely from your bodies.

“Came all this way for a few cans of beans,” He whispered. “Really?”

“Stop!” You repeated. “Please.”

“But you’re cold,” He uttered as he leaned closer. “You need to warm up… you’re shivering…” His nose touched yours. “Or… shaking?”

“Get--” His lips smothered yours as he shifted his body atop you.

You struggled as he released your wrist and reached down to grab your knee as he forced his legs between yours. He bit your lip as he pulled and his hand clawed at the waist of the loose pants. He pulled until he snapped the string within and you kicked around him.

“What are you doing?” You beat on his shoulders. “Stop! Stop!”

“I don’t talk to people, they don’t talk to me,” He snarled. “I keep to myself. Even that dumb delivery boy of yours knows better.”

“No, no,” You slapped his chest as he sat up suddenly.

He tore the pants down your legs until they were around your knees and pushed them up. The fabric kept you trapped beneath him, legs bent to your chest as he leaned over your once more. He brushed his nose against your cheek and snarled.

“You asked for this, honey,” He sneered. “You just couldn’t leave me alone… The way you smile at me, I can see it.”

“I was just--” You pushed against him. “--doing my job. Please, get off of me.”

He moved against you, his thighs pressed to yours as he felt between you. He pushed his own pants down and you tried to shove him off of you with your legs. You only made yourself dizzy.

The fire flickered against you, setting shadows across his features, his blue eyes caught the flame and glowed sinisterly. His rough finger tickled your cunt as he guided his cock along your folds. You grunted as you fought harder beneath him. He pressed along your entrance and you gasped, a horrified scream as he impaled you in a single thrust.

“Go on and scream.” He said. “No one will hear you. No one but me.” He jerked his hips and you cried out again. “I kinda like it.”

He moved his hips in sharp, short thrusts. He grunted with each, lower and lower, almost like satisfied purrs.

He sat up and hugged your legs to his torso as he rutted faster. He clung to you as if he was desperate, as if he couldn’t get enough. You scratched at the carpet. You whimpered each time he slammed into you, each tilt of his hips harder than the last. The clapping of your flesh mingled with your voices. You closed your eyes, holding back the sobs that threatened.

And then he stopped. Suddenly. He stayed inside of you as his grasp on you loosened. His body quivered and a low growl rose from him. He pulled out of you and pushed your legs aside to that you fell onto your side. Shakily, you pushed yourself, on knees and elbow you tried to crawl away, your pants tangled around your feet.

He grabbed your ankles and dragged you back as you slipped onto your stomach. He climbed over you, pinning your legs between his. He kneaded and pinched your ass, dusky, thick breaths rose from him.

He pressed his thumb between your cheeks and you reached desperately for anything to get away. The edge of the carpet rolled in your grasp and you kicked your feet with a panicked whine. He pressed his thumb against your asshole and you shook your head as he buried your face in your arms. He pushed inside and you let out a shrill cry.

He poked in and out of you, your tight ring burned around his thumb. He withdrew it and forced his index finger in, then added his middle. Your pained groans only seemed to encourage him as he stretched you around a third finger.

He pulled his hand away and bent his arm over your shoulders as he lifted himself over you. He lined himself up with your ass as his hair hung around his head and brushed the back of yours. He took a breath and you held one in. He entered you slowly, letting out a choked grunt as you strained around him.

The tears pricked at your eyes and your arm shot up as you blind grabbed at air.

“Please, please, please. Stop.” You begged. “I can’t--”

He pushed deeper and your voice fizzled. He pulled back and thrust in again. Every time, he went a little further. Soon he was buried in you to his limit and you couldn’t breathe or move. He held himself inside of you and shuddered.

He began to rock and you moaned. Despite the pain, the fire that radiated from your core, it felt good. The more he did, the better it got. The pressure built, unlike any you’d felt before, and you gulped and groaned against the carpet. Shocked by him, by yourself.

He got faster and faster. Louder two as his snarls filled your head. You tensed and then in an instant, your strength drained from you. You came, harder than you had ever in your life. You murmured as your head lolled and he kept going.

He lifted his head and his fingers gripped the back of your neck as he lifted himself over you. He hammered into you from above as you lay prone and helpless beneath him. He exclaimed and you felt a warmth flow into you.

He stopped and fell atop you. His weight held you down, suffocated you. His arm stretched up and he grabbed your hand, twining his fingers with yours.

“Stay as long as you like,” He rasped. “Snow’s not letting up anytme soon.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #fic #one shot #lumberjack au #lumberjack #au #mcu #marvel #dark fic #dark!fic #challenge

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enmy-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Just Let Me Help You

Summary: Zuko, trying to keep is girlfriend safe, unintentionally gains the trust of the Gaang after a showdown with Combustion Man.

Word Count: 2728

Fandom: ATLA (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Pairing: Zuko x Fem!Reader

Genre: Mostly fluff, is fluff-angst a thing? Idk guys I’m soft, you tell me.

Rated: 18+

Content Warnings: Profanity, some gore graphics (brief mentions of blood, killing, murder), uhhhh that’s it I think I’m sorry if I forget anything else.

****Huge shout-out to my friends Kenz and Jenna for editing this and hyping me up. Hopefully, since this semester from Hell will be over soon, I’ll be able to write more. Please request things! Thank-you all for supporting this and let me know more of what you want to see in the future :) Also, feedback is always welcome. Enjoy!****

_____________________________________________________________________

They had landed the war balloon days ago, stalking the tired and defeated Team Avatar and trying to figure out how the complicated Fire Prince would convince the people he chased for months that he wants to help them now.

(Y/N) was stoking the hot flame provided by the fire bender, making sure the coals were burning a cherry red before she added leaves and herbs into a pot to make a stew for the two to enjoy. Her eyes followed Zuko as he paced back and forth, practicing what he was going to say when he finally decided to confront the rebel group, lips turned upward in an amused smirk.

“Hey, Zuko here…” she heard him say before he started rambling a bunch of nonsense about his past; from his discovery, to Azula, to his father-- all the tragic topics. It took him about three minutes, but he finished with a hopeful look in his direction.

“Well?!” He clenched his fists at his side in a nervous gesture, only wanting to get this right.

The girl on the log cleared her throat before speaking, obviously hiding her laughter from the sensitive boy. “Well… it’s perfect. I especially liked the ‘Hey, Zuko here’ part. I’m sure that Aang and his friends with be very pleased to finally learn your name instead of thinking you’re called ‘Angry Ponytail Hotman’.’’

He groaned loudly, rubbing his eyes with clenched fists. The melodic laughter from his companion tempted him to give up his quest and just run away with her and live a happy life free of his father and his destiny… whatever that may be.

Still laughing, (Y/N) stood from her log by the fire and made her way to Zuko, coming up behind him. Her arms slid right around his slim body, holding on tight as she tried to pull his mind from the depths of his insecurities.

“Zuko, love.” Her voice is soft, but intense. “Just go down there. I won’t lie, they might not take you right away. You have done a lot of damage to them and their goals.”

His warm hands slide down the tops of her forearms and slide between her chilled fingers, entwining them together as Zuko grips her like she’s holding him down on the land they’re on.

“I… I just…” He struggles to get his feelings out, finding it hard to convey how he feels even to the girl wrapped around him.

She shushes him. “I know.” Is all she says, as they stand there in a momentary comfortable silence before she detaches from him to continue dinner.

____________________________

Zuko had told her to stay behind, that he’d be back to either get her or because he failed to convince the group that he came to support them, instead of harm them.

“Zuko! I could easily be an alibi for you. A reason for them to trust you!”

“No. End of story. They could attack me and you’re in Fire Nation clothes. You’re staying here.”

A staring match between the two only lasted a few seconds, but (Y/N) let it go; remembering Iroh’s advice that sometimes the boy has to do what eases his mind to grow.

The empty pot gleamed an orange glow from the flames, a light in the dark woods that surrounded the two as they lounged by the fire.

(Y/N) was carding her fingers through the upset prince’s hair while he stared at the sky; confused. His emotions spilling onto (Y/N). He didn’t talk much about the encounter, only enough to tell her that they wouldn’t be helping the Avatar defeat his father anytime soon. Rather than pressure him, she offered her solace with calming actions rather than words.

The two had met in their early childhood, (Y/N)’s father being the leader of the Yuyan Archers and of course the Fire Lord wanted the talented girl to meet his… troubled son. In hope that she could help bend his son into the ruthless leader the nations needed to proceed him. Though they didn’t see each other as much as they should have due to (Y/N)’s schooling, the two quickly became close friends and were often found with Lady Ursa quietly running around the palace grounds.

His banishment led to (Y/N) perfecting her skills, and becoming the master she was destined to be, given there was no more distraction. No one could understand her in the way that Zuko did— they fit together like they were made for one another. Where he was hotheaded, she was cool; Where he was nimble and direct, she was resourceful and hidden. The two were the perfect set of opposites who ultimately balanced each other. And one without the other was a heartbreak everyone could see.

When she heard the news of his return, she rushed to the palace; radiant as ever. In an instant, the two fell back into where they left off; barely any words needed between the two. Her fingers and lips had trailed over his scar often in those few days, brushing away the tears and insecurities that came with it.

Leaving the Fire Nation with Zuko wasn’t even a debate in her mind. She was tired of the life of lies and torment that her nation inflicted upon the world. She had spent the last two years relocating and rebranding people who were targets to the Fire Nation. In total, about one hundred innocent lives were saved from her dangerous missions. Her skill level was better than even her father’s, and she prided herself in her abilities. (Y/N) was truly a professional in her art with the eye of an eagle.

When she caught Zuko writing a letter to her with packed bags on his bed, she instantly went into the shadows and caught up with the boy easily, hiding in the balloon behind the engine for a while until it was too late for him to turn back. It was hot and the most uncomfortable thing she has ever done, but she regrets none of it. She joked with the boy; how did he not question a pile of fabric behind the piece of equipment that holds fire? She let it go after he hugged her close and cried for a while.

“Don’t do that shit again, Zuko.” Her voice was stern, though her voice stern, she held him close. She ghosted her fingers over his tense shoulders; the shoulder that carried such burdens. She pressed her fingers into his shoulders; trying her best to rub the tension from his body.

“I won’t. Never again. Don’t leave me, I need you.”

A rustle of leaves and broken trees in the forest near the edge of their little camp put the two into defense, instantly gripping her perfectly crafted bow and quiver. Her ears pricked at a slight movement and she aimed her bows in the direction of the noise without even looking. Suddenly, green clothes fill the area as a younger girl makes her way into the clearing. Startled, Zuko sends a wave of fire towards the intruder, burning the girl.

Everything happened fast.

(Y/N)’s left foot—her plant foot—sunk into the ground and twisted inward, releasing a loud crack into the air. The Earth girl was long gone now; Zuko had been screaming at himself when he heard the cry of pain and the sickening noise that left the lips of his girlfriend.

The earth has released its hold on her, but the damage was done. She kneeled, trying to hold back tears but failing as they kept streaming down her face in a pain response. Zuko’s own eyes filled with tears as he ran over to her, helping her sit down and take the tension off of it.

The joint was already beginning to swell, black and blue and purple and yellow starting to show up in swirls around the area. Zuko carefully tried to feel the injury, barely touching the girl in fear of hurting her more. (Y/N) sighed, pushing his fingers away and ignoring his protest. She rotated her foot outward, cringing at the pain, but crying out when she turned it the other way. Zuko cupped his hands around her ankle, hands heated slightly to hopefully alleviate the pain.

“Baby… it’s okay—”

“No, you’re hurt! I knew this would happen!” He cuts her off with a panicked yell. (Y/N) places her hands on the sides of his face, forcing his eyes upon hers with a slight wince of discomfort.

“It’s most definitely, at worst, a fracture. I can still move it outwards without a lot of pain. It’s, like, a week off my foot at most and then another week with a splint and a crutch. I am okay, Zuko.” They stared at each other for a solid minute, saying nothing.

"Promise?" Zuko whispered.

"You think I would lie to you, Zuko?" She says as she wraps her pinky his for good measure

They turn in not too long after, (Y/N)’s ankle wrapped up in some extra clothes for stability. Zuko’s arms hold her to his chest as they slip off into the world of dreams.

_________________________

Oh shit. She thought from her perch on top of the cliff edge. The assassin that they have also been trying to find has been blowing up the place, really testing the stability of the edge of the cliff in shakes after shakes like an earthquake. Zuko had told her to stay at camp, but unfortunately for Zuko; (Y/N) was never that good at listening to commands.

She was sitting down, watching the Avatar, his friends, and her boyfriend try to figure out how to win this fight against the combustion bender, feet dangling over the edge. She didn’t want any pressure on her foot from standing on it; settling for the dull throbs of pain coming from the force of gravity alone.

Some third eye. (Y/N) thought to herself as she watched her boyfriend get too close to being blown off the edge of the cliff, wincing. She quickly strung her bow, aiming it at the man. She smirked, a devious smirk, and aimed it in a precise location.

Zuko was still trying to talk the man out of it when suddenly, his eyes went blank and the grossest sound he has ever heard reached his ears. Everyone watched the man, confused as to why he just stopped. It’s not until red trails down his forehead and around his nose in a slow trickle that they look at his eye.

In the middle of the red eye, that at one point seemed indestructible; an arrow sat; a perfect shot — his perfect shot. "Bullseye!" (Y/N) howled, her voice resonating in his ears.

In the midst of Zuko's panic, he failed to recognize the cliff he was standing on becoming increasingly unsturdy; turning he locked eyes with the archer. A ghost of a smile graced her lips, pride radiating off of her. Though he was angry, he couldn't help but share her pride. He locked eyes with his girlfriend who was sitting nonchalantly on the cliff edge above them all, waving nonetheless, when he told her to stay back. It’s then that the earth beneath him rumbles and falls, taking him with it.

“Zuko!” She screams, jumping to her feet; a loud crack coming from her ankle, buckling under the pressure and bringing her to her knees.

With a hobble in her step, (Y/N) climbed down the cliffside. The tears ran down her face at a ferocious pace, making her way over to the cliffside, a loud sob relented from her mouth as she saw Aang helping Zuko up over the edge of the cliff.

"Spirits, Zuko!" She breathed, limping her way over to him and hugging him tight. "I should kill you, you fucking idiot!" She sobbed, pulling him into her chest.

Zuko huffed out a laugh, wrapping his arms around her. He took deep breaths, calming his nerves from his near death experience; he focused on the feeling of her hand carding through his hair to grip it tight, and the hold on his shoulders. As he calms down, he remembers that he told her to stay put; and he sharply pulls away.

"I told you to stay at camp!" He huffed, "I told you I was coming back for you!”

She scoffs pushing on his forehead with two fingers. “In case you have forgotten, Zuko, I have authority issues. If I weren’t here, who would be saving your stupid royal ass? No one! You’re welcome, by the way. He wasn’t going to negotiate, Prince Pouty, and you and everyone else here is no good to the world dead.”

“You—You---You could’ve been hurt! (Y/N)! Or worse!” His protest was a whisper, trying to make the scene more private as he’s aware of the crowd around them.

“Zuko, love, I can handle myself. I’m a master at my craft--.”

"—your craft of carelessness, you could've been killed—"

"—but I wasn't Zuko!"

"That's not the point." His voice stern, making it clear that the conversation was done for now. (Y/N) simply nodded, pulling away from him and fixing her clothes.

Aang, Toph, Katara and Sokka watched the two as they argued; watching as they continuously tried to out-care the other. They watched as the two eventually stopped arguing, instead remained staring, as if daring each other to speak

“That was a ... nice shot? I guess?" Aang spoke, clearing his throat and drawing the couples attention to him. "He's definitely you know, dead."

(Y/N) smiles at the boy. “Thank you, Avatar, for helping save this dumb ass from falling off a cliff.” She gets up and bows to him. Zuko suddenly picks her up, the world turning sideways as he put her bridal style in his arms.

“Stop putting weight on your ankle!”

“I’m literally showing respect to the person who just helped you, is that a crime?”

“What if you break your ankle so much that you have to cut it off.”

“Oh, now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“Okay well you were first when deciding to sit on the edge of a cliff with a broken ankle.”

“You’re right! Sitting is dangerous. Next time, I’ll make sure to stand so at least I’ll have a better chance of reacting if the cliff side starts falling from under me. Oh wait, you were standing, and you still fell.”

Zuko sets her down on a broken rock that’s suitable enough for her to sit on. “Will you just shut up already and let me help you.” He reaches for her ankle, but she moves it from his grasp. Their eyes meet again and narrow in competition.

A mess of limbs as the (Y/N) evades the grip of Zuko, occasionally slapping his hands away if they get too close.

Sokka tilts his head in confusion and opens his mouth. “Is he—is he actually caring for someone?”

Aang nods. “I think? I don’t know, they’re kind of fighting a lot.”

Toph cringes, “Guys, I think it was me who hurt her in the first place. Last night at their camp. Zuko instantly stopped trying to help me when I heard her scream.”

“Guys… I think I’m supposed to let him be my master. I mean, he did just risk everything to save us.” Aang says, eyes locked on the one member who he cares more about than anyone.

Katara, still holding off on agreeing, looks to the two Fire Nation kids again.

“Ow! You bit me! Are you crazy?!” Zuko yells, shaking his left hand out.

The stranger girl laughs cheerfully. “Only crazy for you, stupid.”

And a phenomenon occurs. Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation blushes and looks down at the ground, a huge smile on his face.

“I hate you.” Is all he says.

“Yeah, I love you too.”

Katara, seeing the humane side of the prince, finally lets her guard down and walks over to them. Zuko’s eyes widen at her proximity, but the water tribe girl holds his gaze.

“I’ll heal the girl if it gets you two to shut up. And you have to find dinner for tonight.”

Katara’s eyes widen again at the sight of the crying prince who suddenly bows to her feet, thanking her with his whole heart. He then turns to his smiling girl beside him and pulls her into a hug.

“Thank you, (Y/N). For everything.”

“I’ll always help you… stupid.”

#zuko #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #avatar zuko #atla x reader #atla #fanfic #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla fanfic #atla x you #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #x reader #enmy-writes atla

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baby-n-boo · 4 years ago

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Pink is not a girl’s color- regressor! Tommy, finally big brother tubbo, cg! Wilbur

Tommy was little. There was no two ways to put it. And, as if it wasn’t obvious enough from the fact he hadn't sworn in a whole ten minutes, His thumb was inserted firmly in his mouth as he gamed one-handedly, a small piece of paper over each of the webcams on his monitors, in case someone saw. He had finished his stream that day in rather a hurry, logging off of the dream SMP almost as soon as the confirmation came through that the stream had ended, already feeling the pull of the headspace on his mind, and knowing he wouldn’t have been able to hide it from his friends should he have fully slipped. But, for now, he was idly wandering around a solo server he had made for himself, trying to remember where he had built his home last time he had been on the server. His chair creaked in protest, as he tried to bring his knees up to his chest, resting his feet on the very edge of the seat, making him jump. It wasn’t that he was easily scared when little, but the fact he had become accustomed to the silence that seemed to surround him when he was small, since nobody ever wanted to talk to him without being mean.

But it was ok. He could look after himself. He was a big boy, really! Mumbling to himself, around his thumb, he tried to direct his character over to the little hill he could see in the distance, not noticing the river running between himself and said mound, and promptly falling right in. At the sudden change of perspective, Tommy panicked, pulling his hand away from the keyboard like it had burnt him, in the hopes it would be fixed if he stopped. But it didn’t, leaving him arrested in fear, watching as the pretty bubbles went away, and his character started taking damage. He didn’t want the pretty red hearts to go away, they were nice!

Whining slightly as the last one slipped away, and the death message popped up on screen, shading everything in a dim sort of red, Tommy shoved the mouse away too in frustration, refusing to respawn. He wore a stubborn pout as he spun on his chair to turn his back on the screens, just in time for a knock to sound on his door. Worrying for a moment, he yanked his thumb out, and minimised the tab, not wanting anyone to see, before calling out a “Yeah?” that sounded too loud and brash to be right, even for his normal self.

Wilbur, poking his head through the door carefully, smiled to see Tommy not doing much, before starting to speak. “I, uh, I saw your stream ended? I was wondering if you wanted to come spend some time with real people now?” he joked, referencing how little time Tommy actually spent socialising. Despite how much he really really wanted to nod yes, and go with him, Tommy shook his head, carefully measuring his voice to reply. “Nah, you’re alright, I have masses of women to talk to.” he tried to joke back, his smile just a little too wide, the usual bravado missing from the tone, though Will shrugged it off, sure that if something was up, Tommy wouldn’t hesitate to complain about it.

“Well, if you change your mind, don’t forget, Toby and I ’re right downstairs.” He reminded Tommy, with a slightly stern look, before ducking back out the door frame. He tried to nod an affirmation, turning as if to go back to his game, but, as soon as he heard the door click back into place, and the creak of the stairs, he pushed up off his chair, padding over to his bed instead. He wasn’t big enough for gaming, right now, and certainly not to go face his friends. Don’t get him wrong, he was glad they had offered to come over and keep him company while his parents were away for some business trip or other, but it was hard to hide his little space from them when he knew they would be watching his streams, and constantly reminding him to actually care for himself. Especially since it had saved him the embarrassment of his parents hiring some babysitter that never actually did anything, once they found out how old he was.

Tummy rumbling as he sat down cross-legged amid the rumpled sheets, and pulled his favourite blanket out from under his pillow, Tommy whined, having run out of fruit snacks the previous night when he had been streaming till two in the morning. Normally, it wouldn’t be an issue, him just having to sneak down and grab something from the cupboards under the guise of still streaming, but he knew, as soon as he set foot on the stairs today, his friends would be dragging him into a switch game tournament, or a conversation, or, even worse, a trip to the store. Shuddering at the very thought of going outside, Tommy shook his head. No, going hungry was much better than whatever they had in store for him.

His PC kept chiming with discord messages, probably from his other streamer friends to wonder why he had ended so fast, but he merely ignored them, balling up under the ratty sky-blue blanket, and trying to get his head to stop being quite so fuzzy. It didn’t help as his thumb crept back into his mouth, brushing against the cold metal of his braces, and he curled tighter, the scratchy material of his jeans starting to irritate him, as he slipped further and further. It was only a matter of time before something bad happened, so, desperately clinging to the last shreds of his adult mind, Tommy stumbled over to his closet, kicking off his jeans and baseball shirt in a frenzy of unstable movement.

Once he was sure that it was all off, he glanced nervously toward the door, and quickly grabbed a bundle of material, throwing it onto the bed before someone could burst in and see it. Yanking a pair of shorts over his boxers, he quickly scurried back to the comfy area, hiding between the sheets as he fought his way into the other thing, a hoodie that was clearly multiple sizes too big, smelling of a foreign but comforting cologne. He’d picked it up from Wilbur’s bag the first night he had been here, thinking it had been his own, and had been reluctant to give it back upon discovering it, in fact, was not, something about how it made him feel small making it appealing.

Flipping up the hood, so it fell over his eyes, Tommy giggled, flapping around the oversized sleeves in a childish manner, entertained by even the slightest of things in little space. By this point, his adult mind had entirely slipped away, replaced with the simple, cotton candy thoughts of the child Tommy now was. Confused as to why he was being so boring and lying round in bed all day, he pushed back his coverings with a smile, before gasping, looking around for Henry - his cow plush- in between the all-together too mature sheets. Black circles were just so grown up! Where were the dinosaurs? Or the racing cars!

Temporarily distracted from his search by the thought of cars, Tommy gasped, running over to his cupboard, where he hid away all his colouring books, dragging out some nice-looking ones, and his big box of Crayola pens, giggling as they rattled noisily. Throwing them to the floor, Tommy lay down on his tummy across his rug, pushing up the too-long sleeves until he could see hs fingers. Wiggling them around, he couldn’t help but beam, it being such a silly movement, especially as they all bunched up to try picking up the slippery box of pens, only for it to bump back down. Kicking contentedly as he tried again, it wasn’t long before it was tipped upside down, the rainbow of colors spreading across the rug in a mess only a child could make, blues bouncing and reds rolling. In fact, every color other than pink.

Not that Tommy noticed this lack, grabbing up his favourite colour, and flipping to a random page, cheering as it was a cool race car, with flames up the sides, all waiting to be coloured. Uncapping the pen with his teeth, he kept the lid in, chewing on the tip of it as he scribbled messily up and down the door of the car, smiling as it got bluer and bluer the more that he scribbled. Even if it didn’t particularly stay in the lines. Blue was nice, it was a boy’s color, like the sky, and the sea, and blue race cars that go nyoom! Will once said blue was a happy color, so that must mean it was good! Why else would he say it?

It wasn’t like pink. Bleh, pink is a girl’s color, why would he want /that/? Pink was all flowers and dresses and bubblegum, blehhhh. Pulling a disgusted face, sticking his tongue out, which, in turn, made the lid fall out, Tommy shook his head. No, pink was most definitely not for a big boy like him. In his daydreaming, he hadn't heard the stairs creak, nor the tentative knock on the door, not realising as Tubbo crept into the room. “Hey, Tommy? Wilbur said we could ord- oh.” he started, before noticing his friend on the floor, surrounded by coloring pens. Tommy, spinning round at the familiar voice, smiled to see Tubbo, waving gently with his uncapped pen, but making no effort to get up, instead turning back to his coloring once he was done. “Well, I was gunna ask what pizza you wanted, but it’s ok, I'll just say pepperoni. Have fun with … what you’re doing.” Tubbo murmured, not wanting to disturb Tommy when he seemed so concentrated, instead shutting the door behind himself, and heading back down the stairs to where Wilbur was waiting on the sofa.

“Hey. What’d he say?” Will greeted, his laptop open to some takeout website, smiling gently as Tubbo relayed the information for pepperoni, before placing the order quickly. “Alright, that’s done, is he coming down?” he asked, shutting his laptop once he was done, just as Tubbo settled back in the armchair and picked up his switch. “Nah, he’s little.” he spoke simply, as if it was common knowledge, reopening his animal crossing island to keep fishing, like he had been. Confused, Wilbur tilted his head, brushing aside his hair as it flopped over his eyes, and let out a quiet “Huh?”, making Tubbo look up, and meet his eyes. “What do you mean little?” he asked, curiously, not understanding as the teen clammed up, looking mortified. “I shouldn’t have said that. I should /not/ have said that.” He muttered, hiding his red face behind the console. “It’s not my place to say.” he tried to wriggle out of the situation, but, with a stern look from Wilbur, he was pinned in place.

“um...wow, how to put it...” he fidgeted in place, trying to find the words to explain to a rapidly more and more concerned WIlbur. “um...he’s thinking like a kid...not Tommy?” he tried, but, from the blank look he got back, he knew that wasn’t enough. “It’s...It’s like a response to stress? Or...or just cuz...?” he tried again, watching as Will nodded slowly. “Um...he’s coloring right now...i don’t think he wants to be bothered?” he interrupted, as Will stood, to go up the stairs. “I could...i could try to find a website to explain to you, if you wanted? I'm... I'm not too good at this.” Tubbo offered, reaching for his laptop, silently relieved as Wilbur sat back down.

“That would be nice, actually, I'm lost.” He admitted, handing it over, and watching as Tubbo struggled to type out whatever he was trying to, eventually finding a page that seemed right. “Uh, it’s a Tumblr page but...i think it’s got the stuff on...” he mumbled, passing the brightly coloured page back over to him. Credit to him, as Tubbo watched on nervously, Will didn’t seem disgusted, reading with genuine intellectual curiosity, before sitting back. “Woah, okay. That’s intense.” He commented, letting out a deep exhale, and rubbing his eyes. “Why is he little, did you say?” he asked, but Tubbo froze. “I’m...i’m actually not sure. Tommy does it both ways, on purpose and not. Maybe the lore stream today? He did end quickly...” he commented mostly to himself, then rubbing his upper arm. “He normally comes and DMs me after if it’s been a hard stream though... maybe cuz you’re here, he didn’t want to talk about it?”

Throwing out theories, Tubbo tried to hide his confusion and slight hurt that the little he liked to think of as his baby brother when he was in headspace, hadn't told him, chewing on his nails a little. “I do know he calls you his brother though...maybe he was shy in case you didn’t like him doing it?” he murmured, eyes flicking up to the bespectacled 24 year old watching with rapt attention. Luckily, he looked amused, adjusting his beanie. “Hey, it wouldn’t be the only time, I'm practically his older brother all the time.” He chuckled, casting an eye over the page still up on his screen. “It says here about something called...CGs?” he sounded tentative as he looked up to Tubbo again. “It does, and before you ask, No, he doesn’t have one. And yes, he really should, the chaotic doesn’t go down.” he replied, feeling a lot more comfortable now they could make fun of his friend again.

“Should...should we head upstairs, go make sure he doesn’t like...set fire to something?” Will suggested, after a few moments of chuckling, right before a loud thump interrupted Tubbo’s beginning complaint. “Ok, Ok , maybe that’s a good idea.” he smiled, putting his switch to the side before standing. “I’ll go warn him.” He held out a hand to stop Will mounting the steps before him, smiling as he feigned offense. “Trust me, you wanna prepare for this, he might still be Tommy, but he’s... different.” Running up the stairs, best as he could, with the nerves he now had in every vein, he quickly pushed open the door, to see the little tugging at a stuffed animal wedge in a cardboard box. Carefully pulli ng it out, he easily identified it as Henry, pushing it into Tommy’s arms with a smile. “I have a surprise for you, Toms, you ready?” he asked, keeping his voice gentle as Tommy nodded enthusiastically. “Awe, good!”

Awkward, shuffling footsteps were the only indicator Will was coming in, before he rounded the corner, with a small smile. “H-Hi Tommy.” his arms were held awkwardly in front of him, crossed across his chest like he didn’t know how to react. But it wasn’t too much of an issue, since, as soon as he saw Wilbur, Tommy jumped to his feet, running to him. “Wilby!” he cheered, hugging him tightly. “Missed chu!” he grinned, as Will hesitantly pet his hair. “Uh, hey kid, whatchu up to?” he asked, as Tubbo watched on with a soft smile, perching on the bed. “I heard you were coloring?” he asked, looking to the teen for confirmation, as he nodded enthusiastically again, and dropped to his knees, grabbing his pens to keep going.

“Yeah! Iz blu!” he smiled, thrusting a cyan pen to the elder one. Carefully sitting down between him and the wall, Wilbur smiled and nodded. “You’re right, it is blue. Do you like blue?” Clearly that was the right question, since Tommy started speaking, so fast they could barely get a word in edgewise, about the color, kicking his legs happily as he started to scribble again, starting to color in the fire on the side of the car now, under the watchful eye of his friends.

Furrowing his brow slightly at the missing color, Will spoke up, after some small humming being the only thing to break the silence. “Hey, Toms, where’s your pink?” he wondered aloud, jumping slightly as Tommy shouted a “No!”, rather vehement. “No,no, no! Pink for /girls/.” he mumbled, when Will shushed him. Curious, he tilted his head, his hair falling agin, and ‘hmm’d slightly. “Pink isnt a girl’s color, Tommy, what makes you think that?” he didn’t understand, not even as Tommy sent him a disbelieving face. “Pink...pink for princess” he struggled to explain, making Tubbo nod quietly from where he sat. “But, I like pink, Toms, am I a princess?” he chimed in, taken aback as Tommy giggled, and nodded. “P’incess tubby!” he smiled, making Wilbur chuckle and nod. “That’s right, kid, Toby’s a princess now.” watching the teen stand and mockingly spin around, before carefully bopping Tommy’s head, like a fairy. “ding, ding, Tommy is now a kid!” he laughed, moving over to the cupboard that usually housed the colouring, pulling out a shameful looking pink tub, and placing it on the floor beside the kid. “Let’s try these ones too, huh?” Will prompted, picking up a pastel pink, and doodling a small flower in the corner.

Tommy nodded, gently, slipping a little, pink pacifier into his mouth when nobody was looking, and hesitantly choosing a maroon pen, trying a clumsy smiley face, soon joined by tubbo doodling a bee, of course. Laughing, Will tried another flower, and a heart, wanting to keep what he did simple, making Tommy smile as a little of the ink went over his fingers. Catching the pen before he tried to draw on his own face, Will tutted gently at Tommy, his new little friend. His little...brother? Before they realised it, the scribbly car had been overshadowed by their doodles, Tommy having branched out into pink the more his friends didn’t seem to mind it being there, slowly smiling more and more, until he was giggling loud and free, fully convinced now, that Pink was, in fact, not a girl’s color.

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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years ago

Text

Time

Prompt: Someone’s jealous (Content Challenge Day 1)

Pairing: Hinted Legolas x Female Reader, light Boromir x Female Reader

Rating: G

Word count: 1313

Warnings: Angst (nothing too heavy)

A/n Hey everyone, welcome to Day 1 of my content challenge! You can find the challenge’s masterlist here, and my personal masterlist here. And honestly, I don’t even know what happened with this story. I had two fluffy pieces ready to go and then I read them again and realized I wasn’t ready to post them. So I opened a doc and accidentally wrote angst. Whoops! Hope you enjoy :)

Boromir entered the clearing, arms laden with firewood. With a nod towards Sam, who had volunteered to tend to the fire, he dropped the wood, retreating to a log on the edge of camp.

The exact log upon which Y/n sat.

She greeted him warmly, welcoming him back from his quick venture into the forest. Without meaning to, Legolas watched as Boromir placed a soft kiss on Y/n’s cheek, earning him a shy smile. Seeming slightly hesitant, Y/n laid her head on Boromir’s shoulder, and when he wrapped an arm around her back, Y/n relaxed, pleased that her advance was received favorably.

Legolas tore his eyes away from the budding romance, turning his back on them to help Sam with the fire.

“Oh, don’t you worry yourself with this, Mister Elf. I’ll get the fire going, I just need to find the right kindling.”

Legolas furrowed his eyebrows. “The firewood is not enough?”

Sam looked away, seeming uncomfortable with criticizing the quality of the firewood and, by extension, his friend Boromir. “I’m sure he did as best he could in the dark. Unfortunate it is though — most of the wood is too wet or covered in moss. Have you got a bit of spare paper, by chance?”

Legolas stared at the offending pile of wood. This is ridiculous, he thought. Do not volunteer to collect the firewood unless you know what you’re doing — it’s a waste of everybody’s time.

A giggle from Y/n floated to Legolas’ ear, and he couldn’t stop the frown that set in his lips. It seems it was not inexperience that caused Boromir to bring back unacceptable supplies, but distraction.

Legolas huffed in frustration, grabbing a stick at random and marching to where Boromir and Y/n sat.

He shoved the moss-covered branch in Boromir’s direction. “This is what you came back with? Hardly any of it is usable. It is too long or half-drenched or covered in moss — it won’t burn.”

Boromir puffed out his chest, tearing his gaze away from Y/n to look upon the elf with a measure of disdain. “The wood is perfectly useable.”

Legolas clenched his teeth, caught in an unexpected flurry of anger. “It is apparent you have allowed yourself to become distracted and forget your duties. I will have to do it myself.”

He pushed past the two humans, stalking deeper into the woods.

With his elven hearing, Legolas heard Y/n’s soft and slightly alarmed voice call after him. Everything in him shouted for him to turn back, to answer her plea, but he kept his feet moving forward. Something about the camp tonight made him irrationally angry, and, stranger still, left him with an unwelcome discomfort in his chest.

He heard light footsteps behind him, and knew Aragorn was on his trail. Legolas kept walking until he was far enough away from the camp that he could no longer hear any individual voices, just a general murmur of sounds. He found a small cliff and a cluster of rocks and climbed, pleased that he found a spot that allowed him to sulk and keep an eye on the surrounding areas.

Aragorn was not far behind, and soon sat on a boulder across from Legolas.

The two sat in silence for a long while, both of their brows furrowed in thought. While Legolas contemplated the foul mood he found himself in, Aragorn struggled with how best to broach the conversation. Legolas was one of his closest friends, and he liked to think that he knew the ellon quite well. Over the past few months, it had become apparent to Aragorn that Legolas harbored affection for the human woman that accompanied their fellowship.

And it had recently become apparent to everyone that Y/n and Boromir were interested in each other.

Aragorn knew this was the reason for Legolas’ anger—he was sure of it. But how best to bring it up?

Finally, Aragorn spoke, bracing his forearms against his knees and turning towards the elf. “You know, Legolas, sometimes, when I think of Arwen in Rivendell surrounded by ellyn, I get a little stressed out.”

Shame gathered in Legolas’ gut. He felt quite guilty for being so dramatic when it was obvious Aragorn needed to talk. He mustered what he hoped was an encouraging smile, and laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder, trying to provide reassurance. “Do not be worried, mellon nin, elves love only once. If Arwen has chosen you, there is no threat from other ellon.”

Aragorn looked to the ground briefly. He hadn’t expected to have to try again.

He took a second to regroup. “Right. Thank you for that. But uh, if I were to see her in another’s arms, or see her flirt with them, even, that would make me very upset. And that’s to be expected, really. It only means I love her, and I wish for her to want me only.” The line between Legolas’ brow deepened, and Aragorn continued eagerly, hoping his friend was catching on. “It would hurt me to see the woman I love being affectionate with someone else.”

Legolas’ mouth set into a hard line, and his eyes widened. Aragorn nearly laughed in relief. Finally.

“Has Arwen been unfaithful?”

No! So close!

Aragorn bit back a curse, and Legolas took this as confirmation.

He sat back on his heels, his features encompassed by disbelief. “This is unheard of from an elf, though perhaps it is the influence of her human lineage. I admit, it pains me greatly to think her capable of such a thing. But do not fret, mellon nin, I will stand by your side through this.”

“No, Legolas,” Aragorn groaned, laying a hand on the elf’s shoulder, causing him to look Aragorn in the eye. Time to try again. More overt, this time. “Arwen has never been unfaithful, nor do I sense that quality in her.” Legolas relaxed in clear relief, and Aragorn allowed himself a deep breath before continuing. “I only meant to say, that if I had romantic feelings for someone…and I saw them engaging in displays of romantic affection with someone other than me….” Aragorn saw the moment realization began to dawn in Legolas’ eyes, and he felt a strong pang of sorrow for his friend. He forced himself to continue, knowing that Legolas needed to acknowledge these feelings in order to deal with them. “It would make me feel sad, and hurt, and probably angry and frustrated, too…and that’s okay. I think it would be especially difficult if I did not realize that I had these feelings of affection for her, until she was in the arms of another.”

Legolas seemed to sag, dropping his head and letting his elbows rest on his knees. The two sat in silence for a moment as Legolas took deep breaths, unused to feeling such frustration and grief. After what seemed like quite a long time, Legolas raised his eyes to Aragorn’s.

“How did you know? I did not even know.”

Aragorn gave a small shrug, hating that he couldn’t be of more help to his hurting friend. “You look at her in the same way I look at Arwen — with complete devotion. You’d give up your title for her, lay down your life for her…do anything and everything you could to make her safe and happy.”

Legolas tried to protest. “I want safety and happiness for any of you.”

Aragorn held up a hand to stop him. “It’s different and you know it.”

Legolas sighed, feeling defeated. “I don’t want to love a human. Especially a taken human.”

“Just be there for her, look out for her as her friend. And you never know. Give it time.”

Legolas clenched his teeth together against the onslaught of despair. “She is human, Aragorn. Time is something she does not have.”

A/n Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated :) Let me know if you would like to be added to a tag list!

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whitherliliesbloom · 3 years ago

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fate matrix

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #05 (free) - fate ]

[ alphinaud/wol & cameos and mentions of some friend ocs, you’re gonna have to read to find out who :) ] ★ [ 5,241 words (oof) ] ★ [ fate matrix au ]

fate: be destined to happen, turn out, or act in a particular way

in a world where the hands of destiny are ones and zeros, at the center of the matrix was a little goddess who would soon find out that she too, isn’t immune to the pull of fate

Day ???? | 07:07am | Day of Destined Meetings

An alarm rings, beeping in an increasingly loud volume as the monitors begin booting up. As light from the screens flood the room, the sound of cotton ruffling can be heard, followed by a soft little yawn.

The girl stirs, clutching at her duvet for warmth before her eyelids flutter open. Bright violet eyes stare up at the ceiling, where the patches of glow up star stickers have lost their radiance in the midst of the fluorescent bulb lighting up. Blinded momentarily, she grimaces, before rolling onto her side and sitting up.

“Good morning, alpha.” A melodic voice chirps out merrily from her parted lips, and she raises a hand to pet the head of the stuffed chocobo that she had been laying beside. “It’s time for work again, huh?”

Stretching her arms high above her head with a final, long yawn, the girl shuffles over to the minibar that was tucked under the table, pulling the door open before grabbing a small tub of yoghurt and peeling it open to peer inside curiously.

Oh, it’s strawberry today, how wonderful! Whoever or whatever magical force is behind stocking up the minibar seems to be in her favor this morning.

Grateful now for her breakfast, the girl slides over to the front of the bed, and places her hand on the mouse after taking a spoonful of the yoghurt into her mouth.

System booting... Please enter password. >illyaskawi03112 Log in successful. Fatematrix.exe starting. Welcome, Alice.

The monitors that surround her begin loading up window tabs after window tabs - and at the center on her main monitor, a sizeable grid of glowing icons pop up, along with a smaller, more discreet window showing a map tucked away at the corner of the screen.

Visual stimuli overload aside, the girl seemed to be completely unphased as she bites into yet another scoopful of yoghurt before setting the tub next to her white keyboard, as if this were a scene she’s had to see countless times now.

It’s a routine, a well rehearsed routine that the girl effortlessly goes through the motions of daily. The fate matrix is ever in need of use and she, the center of it all, was more than happy to take control.

That is, after all, the will of her late mother... the previous Alice and goddess of the fate matrix. It is simply her duty to carry on in her legacy. And as per her duty, she begins to spin the wheel of fate, clicking on the very first icon that boots up the fate matrix’s tool assistant. A bright blue pop up appears that the girl drags to the side, and text begins to appear.

Good morning, Alice. Today is a day of destined meetings. I would suggest working on getting soul mates together for the day.

Internally, Illya is delighted. Soul mates were one of her favorite types of work to focus on... and though they were rarely ever more urgent than other types of assignments like accident prevention, weather management or economic balance, it was one that often brought her a great amount of joy.

After all, what was sweeter than nudging two souls who were meant for each other closer? It was the very concept of soul mates, and the tales of the red thread of fate after all, that drew her mother into the concept of fate and caused her to develop the fate matrix.

A soft smile graces her features, and she moves her cursor to click on the second icon, which loads for a second before breaking apart into smaller, glowing dots that scatter across the map - with two dots that indicated soul mates being linked by a dotted line.

Time to get to work!

01:46pm

When Illya clicked on the glowing two red dots upon the map, she hadn’t expected to be shown live footage of the two targets in the very same room.

It’s not uncommon for soul mates to have already met each other, or even be familiar with one another already despite not having made their feelings for each other known yet... but they were cases that were, in Illya’s experience, a little more difficult to work on.

It was easy to nudge two strangers in the same direction or plant small, innocuous thoughts that would help draw two acquaintances into wanting to spend more time with their soul mate. It was far more difficult to convince stubborn people who have, despite many fateful circumstances, refused to confess their feelings to the object of their confession.

After all, the fate matrix was capable of many things - but controlling or taking over the will of people was not one of them.

Illya has convinced two stubborn souls to finally open up in the past though, she was certain she could do so again - she did so with the likes of the two childhood friends, Moth’ir and Thancred... a case which she would never in a million years soon forget... or the infuriatingly obstinate refusal of a pink haired miqo’te girl to confess to her close friend and personal trainer, Haurchefant Greystone... who had been more than obvious with his flirtations for years.

Alice, you have yet to eat your lunch. A quick break is highly suggested.

The tool assistant sends a reminder through a text in it’s window, which Illya is swift to ignore. She can eat once she’s done with this case.

She watched through the monitor as the pair sat on the couch, a girl with straight cut bangs and piercing red eyes lounging lazily with her back propped against the arm rest and her legs laid over her taller, lankier male friend, who seemed to be frustrated at the girl’s refusal to pay him any attention.

“Why invite me over if you’re just going to play your game?”

“Hmph! Says the guy who invited me over to his place only to kick me out halfway through because some of his friends were going to pay him a surprise visit!”

The man lets out a hefty sigh.

“I already apologized for that. And that was over a week ago. Are you seriously still-”

“Yes, yes I am!” Without even looking up from her smartphone, the girl lets out a dramatic huff while admonishing her friend. “I don’t get why you’re so adamant about me not meeting your friends. Why, are you scared they’ll misunderstand and think I’m your girlfriend?”

“That’s- That’s not-”

From the heartrate monitor, Illya can tell that was only part of the reason for his behavior. The true reason, and an explanation that the girl understood full well why he would refuse to tell his friend was written in text in a separate window next to his heartrate monitor.

The girl, Totomi Tomi, or better known by her stage name as Mint, was something of a minor celebrity on the internet. Known for her jovial personality and the many covers of vocaloid songs she posted on her well known eorzeatube page, it wouldn’t be a stretch to call her an idol - even if she wasn’t officially acknowledged or employed as one by some idol management company. Her friend, Estinien, and the object of her very strong feelings towards, had friends who were apparently fans of hers.

It was for that very reason that, for her protection and to spare her the oogling of strangers, that he’d kept his friendship with the young idol a secret from others.

In his eyes, perhaps dating her would be the quickest way to convince his friends to back off... but that would only come after they’d confessed their feelings - which they haven’t.

“That’s not important.” Estinien finally retorts after stumbling after his words for a moment, and Illya has to resist the urge to slam her head against the keyboard.

“Ohhhh... Kay.” Mint rolls her eyes, Illya mirrors the action.

What Illya doesn’t anticipate however, is Estinien’s next words, for as bold and uncharacteristic for an emotionally closed off man such as him.

“Why? Are you disappointed? You almost sound like you want to be known as my girlfriend.”

Mint chokes on her spit, sputtering and gurgling out incomprehensible words until she recovers - but only barely... and now with a dark red blush plastered over her freckled cheeks.

“I-In your dreams, maybe!” Her blatant lie is apparent to all but... the ones who are present in the room. “Besides, I already have someone I like!”

“Oh?” Illya can hear the sheer contempt from her headphones, and she grimaces at the man’s deep frown. “Do tell, who is it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, dunderhead!”

“Tell me. I’m curious.”

“Nope nope nope nope nope noppetty nope! Why’d you think I would ever tell you, huh??”

Mint sticks her tongue out at the man, who scowls deeper and nudges the woman’s legs off of his lap.

“Fine. How about a bet then.”

“What bet?”

The man points to the phone she has in her hands.

“Since you’re so fond of your gacha games, and you’re always bragging about how good your luck is, why don’t we make a bet using your game?”

Snatching the phone out of Mint’s hand despite her protests, Estinien taps on the settings button before clicking on the gacha button, the screen switching to the current limited rate up banner of a popular event character.

“If you get a character of the highest rarity within 50 draws, you have to tell me who your crush is.”

“W-why would I even agree to that?? I’ve been saving my primos for Xi-Ao you know?!”

“I’ll pay for your pulls. It’s a win-win for you that way, no? You get free pulls from the game, I get to know who your crush is if you get a shiny new character.”

Mint pulls back, hesitant and suspicion clear in her eyes, but still enough to hint at consideration.

“And what’s in it for me? What if I do pull a 5 star character?”

After much consideration, Estinien responds once more.

“I’ll let you whale for whatever character you want next on my credit card. And I’ll cosplay with you at the next convention.”

At the condition of his loss set, Mint’s face lights up with pure elation, as she snatches her phone back from her friend with a cheeky grin on her face.

“Deal! You’re so going to lose, long bean! My luck in Genshin Impact’s second to none! I can’t wait to make you cosplay sailor moon!!”

An equally devious smile spreads across the face of Alice, whose hands are swift to pull up another window tab reserved specifically for video game and gambling luck.

She has always admittedly been favorable and gracious in giving out good draws to people who deserve it - the program she has running in the background is testament to that... And she has no doubt in her mind that the fate matrix has been generous in it’s givings to Mint, if her boastings are anything to go by.

Mint must thusly, be a good person.... and she deserves a fate more fulfilling than virtual characters on a screen.

The girl must truly feel confident in herself, as she hits the draw x10 button without a single hesitation.

Illya begins typing the code into the new window, and sympathy wells in her heart as she hears Mint huff in minor disappointment.

“Only one 4 star? Eh, it’s just a fluke, I have 40 more pulls and I’m close to soft pity too!”

“Good luck.” Estinien chuckles mockingly, and Mint lets out a growl before pressing on the draw x10 button again.

Nothing. The third ten pull is no better - with nothing but a single 4 star weapon to show for her efforts. Mint is evidently getting more nervous as her finger shakes, pressing down on the button that will decide her fate for the fourth time.

She was so certain she’d get a 5 star by now - she normally gets what she wants within the first thirsty pulls, and it’s a normal occurrence to even pull multiple 5 stars within the same roll... So... why?

Her 40th pull ends with two 4 star characters, a sight better than the ones before... a sign of Illya’s pity on her... but still not a condition for her win.

“Oh, someone’s getting nervous.” Estinien smirks, “You’re on your last pull away from telling me who you have a crush on.”

“H-hah! That’s where you’re wrong!” Mint exclaims, jabbing a finger at him. “The chances of getting a 5 star increases with each pull, so i’m almost a hundred percent certain I’ll get one this time!”

Mint’s heartrate monitor is going off the charts, and Illya has to intervene by lowering her vitals enough so she wouldn’t pass out from sheer nervousness. It does little to hide it from Estinien, however, who could only relish every second of Mint’s rapidly darkening blush as she finally taps on the draw x10 button one final time.

The shooting star across the screen flickers, before bursting into a shade of pink that has Mint leaning back with mouth agape, a mixture of sheer shock and terror on her expression.

Hopelessness is all she feels as she taps, taps and taps, and the roll summary page shows naught but a single Benny - the unluckiest character in the game, grinning widely at her.

“Well, well, well. Looks like I won.” Estinien sounds way too casual and smug, unaware of the monumentally immense amount of bad fortune that had just befallen his friends. “As per our deal, you’re going to have to tell me who your crush is.”

Illya feels sorry for her meddling, and she makes a mental note to herself to bless Mint’s future rolls with as many of the highest rarity characters she could possibly afford to give without breaking the laws of probability too much... but when Mint finally breaks out of her stutter and sets her phone down on her lap, hands grasping so tightly at the hem of her skirt that her knuckles turned white, the girl knew that she’d dealt the woman a hand far kinder than if she had not.

“I-It’s...... It’s you, okay?”

07:32pm

Alice it is time for dinner. The curry will get cold if you leave it out for too long.

Illya’s tendency to ignore the tool assistant in regards to her own wellbeing was concerning, but not an anomaly. In fact, it was far more rare for the text in the pop up to be spared more than a single second’s glance from her.

Whether it was reminders for her to eat, for her to sleep early, to hydrate or to stretch after hours hunched over her keyboard in front of glaringly bright monitors for a good whole of her day, the tool assistant’s well meaning messages would always go ignored.

It’s a natural part of it’s program, Illya tells herself, as she filters through lists of finished cases before moving on to pending ones. Much like the fate matrix, that ran on a code that was, in admittance, far more complex than even she could fully comprehend... the tool assistant ran on code. It was an artificial intelligence her mother had created during her last few months of life, something that, according to the note left in the hard drive of the fate matrix, would help Illya better slip into her role as adjudicator of fate.

She’d remembered when she first awoke in this room and on the bed, not having any recollection of how she’d even arrived in the first place. The momentary panic and confusion had been replaced with a sense of obligation... of duty and honor when she booted up the computer for the first time to be greeted with the words from the tool assistant - as well as a lengthy message from her late mother.

We who do not belong to the realm of mortals... we who possess the blood of fate. We bear the burden of watching over the world and making sure that it is a safer, happier, better place for everyone. Only you alone can take possession of the fate matrix in my stead, and I pray you’ll forgive me for not being able to say goodbye to you in person.

Family meant the world to Illya, it has ever been that way. She spent a good amount of her childhood in the company of her parents, with little understanding of the world beneath. She had no concept of the idea of fate, of how destiny was dealt... only that her mother had a significant role to play, and that her time with her family was soon to be cut short by a crippling, unkind illness that not even the fate matrix could undo.

Illya’s never tried stepping out of her room before. She has always assumed that it exists in some kind of void or overworld that overlooked the mortal realm. It mattered not, really... The only thing important was that mother had left this place behind, and wanted her only daughter to inherit her role as Alice.

It was with that responsibility in mind that drove Illya to stay seated in front of the monitors for as long as she has.

Time is no longer being a concept, the rising and falling of the sun no longer visible to her eyes aside from a arbitrary number on the clock that served more as a timer for how long she has left to work until exhaustion would consume her.

Do you not wonder what it’s like to have friends, Alice?

Recently, however the tool assistant has been sending her more and more pointless questions... questions that went far beyond the daily self-maintenance reminders that she could understand her mother programming in for her wellbeing, questions aimed to be poignant and was targeted to making her feel more isolated and alone than it did help. It was bordering on annoyance.

You could leave this room any time you wanted.

And why would she do that? She murmured to herself as she typed in code to program a heavy storm, forcing a raven haired lalafellin man to offer his umbrella to his soul mate who had been stranded under a lone busstop - a pink haired woman with olive green eyes who seemed utterly smitten with him upon first sight.

Her purpose was here, to take control of the fate matrix, to grant happy memories, to save lives, to fulfill wishes and dreams. There can be no greater and heavier responsibility to bear in the world.

Truthfully, the reason why Illya stayed at first had solely because of her mother’s wishes... But now, it was more than that.

Because the idea of separating herself from the fate matrix... and not being able to grant the kindness of fate that so many people in the world deserved... it was a pain that was worth her own sense of self.

Are you not lonely? Do you not want someone to love you?

Why did it matter if she was lonely? The envy and curiosity she feels upon watching a group of friends hanging out together is nothing in comparison to the pain mortals felt from a love unrequited, or a loved one losing their life.

She taps furiously on a historian with bright red hair and eyes, forcing him to get a wardrobe malfunction that would push him to visit a tailor where an impish lalafellin fashion designer with snow white freckles awaited him with choice words of ridicule. She tips over a telephone pole that causes two surf shop co-owners who were on a road trip to park by the roadside so that they may witness a falling star, wishes made leading to their confession. She painstakingly guides a woman with silver hair and golden yellow eyes towards a drycleaner, where she initiates easy banter with a man who she later finds out was her old schoolmate.

Juno and Ysayle, Bianca and Varis, Niqesse and Zenos, Nowi and June. She remembers the soul mates she pushes together by name, and treasures the happiness they are sure to feel from their memories as if they were her own.

Detached from their world she may be, it is through the fate matrix that she can experience a sliver of their joy and love... even if it is for a fleeting moment before she must move on to the next.

11:17pm

One more assignment, she tells herself, eyes bloodshot and fingers sore from typing. One more case and she’ll eat before going to bed. She has done much for the day as it is... but she cannot rest until she’s closed one particular case that has her vexed for the entire day.

A pair of glowing purple dots that has been plastered on the map since morning has her thoroughly vexed... because for some reason or another, she cannot seem to gather information on one half of the pair.

She’s able to view the other half just fine - a dashing young man who seemed to be a senior in university despite his age, having skipped two grades due to his academic prowess. He is incredibly gifted, possessing not only of superior intellect but also an artistic hand and charismatic demeanor that makes him quite popular at his school.

But no matter how much she clicked on the other purple dot, or made futile attempts to manually search for data on his other half, nothing would show up. No windows, no tabs... What was even more perplexing was that the dot hadn’t moved on the map at all.

Illya had paid especially close attention to the purple dots ever since she’d found this anomaly in the fate matrix... she was certain she would have noted movement if there had been any at all.

But whereas the icon of the boy had understandably been moving throughout the city of Sharlayan, the icon of his mysterious other half hadn’t, laying stagnant on a singular point of the map in the middle of what appeared to be an old apartment complex.

It was as if his soul mate just... didn’t exist at all.

The boy didn’t have any romantic feelings for anyone, nor did it seem like there was anyone at his school that would have an attachment to him that extended beyond admiration or a short-term attraction, which she’s long learned to tell apart from genuine love. If the tool assistant had a text saying that her target simply did not have a soul mate at all, she’d have been inclined to believe it.

But the other purple dot that connected to his does not lie. If he didn’t have a soul mate, his icon wouldn’t be connected to the other. Her tool assistant wouldn’t have told her, very deliberately she may add, that he did in fact have a soul mate and that it was imperative for her to unite them.

But how was she to make two people meet when she could not even tell who the other was? It was the first time Illya’s wondered if there was even any point to her efforts.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, then. It may be unnatural for a piece of note to fall from the sky, but it was perhaps her final chance to get the boy to meet his soul mate before the opportunity would be lost forever.

Assignments from her pending window are known to disappear all of a sudden, and soul mates who were attached and at their prime for a fated meeting for the moment often times disappear from the map entirely... a tragedy as a result to the slipping of time that the fate matrix cannot rectify... and she’d be damned if she let it happen to this case just because of a simple glitch.

The boy, Alphinaud Leveilleur, star student of the nation’s most prestigious academy, had been walking home from his late night seminars. His position was unnervingly close to where his soul mate is, and since she could not think of any way she could naturally nudge him in the direction of the apartment complex, she writes a note posing as his soul mate and drops it from the sky.

“W-what in the twelve?”

The boy catches it in mid-air, looking at the haphazardly scribbled words on the paper.

PLEASE HELP ME. I’M BEING HELD AGAINST MY WILL. I’M BEING TRAPPED AT _______________

She made the handwriting disorderly intentionally... just to sell the idea of a person being trapped better, of course. She’d even slathered on a small smudge of blood on the corner of the note to make it more convincing... and it seemed to have done the trick as the boy widens his navy blue eyes in alarm, head turned up in the direction of the apartment complex he stood next to.

Illya can tell he has his doubts, and she doesn’t blame him... It’s suspicious enough that the call for help would just so conveniently fall towards him as he was walking past... but he’s never known any criminal activity to have taken place in that apartment complex - Sharlayan is relatively safe compared to it’s neighbor, Mor Dhona.

A few simple thoughts however, might just do the trick into getting him to spring into action.

Injecting into his mind, Illya types out frantically into the text box for thought processing.

What if this is real? What if there really is someone in need of rescuing and I just walked by without helping them? What if they appeared on the news tomorrow? I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. What if... what if this note really is fate?

She’s preying on his upright and morally upstanding character, she knows that... and it never feels good to take advantage of a objectively good person’s kindness... But her determination to grant him lifelong happiness wins as she watches through the live feed the as the boy clutches onto the note close to his chest and begins to run into the carpark of the apartment complex before heading inside.

Zooming into the map, she sees that her target is taking the lift up to the highest floor, his heartrate skyrocketing at an alarming pace as she panics for a moment and has to manually adjust it back down. He’s nervous... and she must admit that she is too.

When he leaves the lift, his footsteps are unsteady and hesitant... But a few more encouraging thoughts was enough to get him to push forward until he’s standing in front of a door - the only door on the last floor of the complex, as it would happen.

Illya tries to look into the room, but the window that pops up is but a single black screen that has her sighing. No matter. The fact that there even was a window in the first place is progress.

She’s gotten this far into leading him here... all he has to do is open the door where his other half is sure to be on the other side.

The boy tries to twist open the door knob, the metal rattlingly noisily in Illya’s headphones. But it doesn’t budge or give way.

Figures that it’d be locked. How is she supposed to lead him inside? She can’t ring the doorbell because, for as odd as it is, there is none... and she cannot pull up any information on his soul mate, let alone inject into thoughts into their head to open the door. It’s far too suspicious to drop the key to the door right in front of him.

With each second that passes, it seemed like the boy was letting his doubts begin to sway his decision to stay more and more... and Illya’s heart drops into the pit of her stomach when she sees the boy begin to step away from the door and reaching into his bag for his phone, a thought bubble popping up above him.

I should call the police, instead...

“No! You mustn’t!” Illya yells out by instinct.

“Huh???” the boy’s eyes widen once more, and to Illya’s utter confusion, he bolts forward and is now banging his fist against the door. “Hello?! Are you okay?! If you’re in there and you need help, please say something again!”

He must’ve heard a voice.... Illya mused, eyes glistening with intrigue... her voice. Did her mic turn on by accident? Or perhaps she’d projected her voice onto the door out of instinct. She wouldn’t be surprised if she did... but the most important thing is that it worked, and it got the boy to stay.

“Y-yes! I’m... I’m in here!” Illya responds, intentionally letting out sobs into her microphone this time, “p-please help me... I-I’m really hurt and I don’t know when they’ll get back!”

Alphinaud’s heartrate is beating faster than it’s ever had before... and Illya makes no attempts to lower it as she watches the boy grit his teeth and set his bookbag down.

“A-alright! Stand back! I’ll try to knock the door down!”

Good thinking, Illya hums to herself in silence. The door seems old and rickety on its own... unless his soul mate has very deliberately barricaded the inside, there shouldn’t be any reason why he’d not be able to knock it down.

The boy begins to slam his torso into the door, pulling himself back before once more rushing into the door, and the sound of banging fills Illya’s headphones. It’s oddly loud and deafening... but she makes no attempts to lower her volume as she grips the edge of her keyboard in anticipation.

“Don’t worry miss! Just a bit more! I’ll get you out, I promise!”

His sincerity touches her... and though it is wholly unnecessary, Illya is moved to speak into the mic once more... and her words causes a surge of renewed energy to flow through him.

“Yes! I believe in you! I’m waiting!”

Illya has never known what the outside of her room looked like... nor the time or space that occupied it. It was never necessary, she’d convinced herself... She was simply content with watching the outside world through the lens of the fate matrix while playing the ultimate puppet master.

She has never smelled the outside air, never seen the light of the sun, never once touched the hands of another... not since she arrived here.

When the door to her room clattered noisily onto the ground, so loudly that she could not chalk it up to being a result of the projection in her headphone, the girl spun around... and stared with wide, bewildered and confused eyes at the boy in front of her - clear without the pixels of the screen obscuring him... clear and oh so very real.

Beads of sweat trickling down his brows from exertion... his usually neat fitting uniform disheveled from strain...

And in his clear blue eyes was the reflection of herself, staring back at her as if they were a window to her future.

“Y-you.... you are....?”

The tool assistant of the fate matrix sends another text, which goes unread and ignored by Alice once again.

You watch over the fate of others. But even you aren’t immune to the hands of fate.

#ffxiv #final fantasxy xiv #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #kiwisffxivwrite2021 #alphinaud leveilleur #alphinaud #illya skawi #we've come so far #fanfic #mine #lots of cameos and mentions of friends but i'm not gonna list em all out here kek #holy fuck this turned out longer than i expected #and i already had to cut down a lot of this fic!!!#Like... i planned to expand each friend ship into their own dedicated segment but #it got too detailed and bleh

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rekrappeter · 5 years ago

Text

august || jj maybank || scout’s writing challenge

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

word count: a whopping 7.3k

summary: y/n returns to the island for her yearly visit with her cousin, Kiara. she loves everything about the outer banks, except one impossible blonde hair, blue eyed boy [enemies to friends to lovers]

warning: nothing that isn’t mentioned in the tv show therefore there is cursing, fighting, mention of abuse, underage drinking, blood || lmk if i forget anything || definitely typos || i also didn’t proofread this so sorry

This is my first time writing for outer banks, so what better way to join a writing challenge organised by the queen herself @ptersparkers. I hope y’all enjoy it and please lmk what you think of it ♡ ♡

The whole month of August was dedicated to traveling to the outer banks, ever since you could remember. Your earliest memory on the island was when you were eight years old and your cousin, Kiara, almost drowned in the marsh; you remember laughing uncontrollably, not really understanding what was going on until your parents scolded you. You have always been close with Kiara; when you were away for the other eleven months of the year, you would constantly message and snapchat each other back and forward.

As you grew older, each year in obx came with new experiences. When you were thirteen, you had your first kiss on the dock with some brown-haired kook that you and Kiara were infatuated with that year. When you were fourteen, you got into your first fist fight with none other than JJ Maybanks and that was the beginning of the end for you. Ever since that eventful summer, you and JJ barely managed to be in the same room with each other without biting each other’s head off. You rued the first day you met him when you found him attractive, never more nauseated when you think of that memory.

At the age of sixteen now, you couldn’t be more excited to go back and visit your cousin and the rest of your extended family. This time your parents weren’t tagging along and trusted you to stay safe under the watchful eye of Kiara. When you were on the phone with Kie, days before your arrival, you both gushed about the numerous adventures you were going to take together. You were back in the outer banks no longer than four hours before you were dragged down to the boneyard, a memorable place that you found bliss in.

“Aye, there she is!” You heard John B yell over the chatter of the crowd down at the beach, he raised a red cup in your direction as a greeting. You laughed aloud, twirling before flinging yourself into his embrace. And it was official, John B gave the best hugs.

“Hey, don’t be hogging her,” Pope whined, pulling you from his best friend’s grasp and bringing you into a rib crushing hug. Okay, maybe it was Pope that gave the best hugs. You were so overwhelmed by the love that they were showing that you hadn’t noticed the blonde-haired boy rock up next to the gang with a girl tucked under his arm.

JJ spotted you from the moment that you stepped foot onto the beach, he was whispering into some brunette’s ear when his eyes lifted to see your figure beside Kie. His jaw immediately clenched and the sudden distaste was evident in his aura, at least that’s what he was calling the feeling of nausea that washed over him from seeing you there. He has been so busy working, he hadn’t realized that it was already August - the month he could live without for the rest of his life ever since he was introduced to you.

The girl reached to grab his jaw to look at her, “Are you even listening to me?” She pouted, her red lipstick smudged from the earlier kisses she shared with JJ.

JJ hummed in acknowledgement, looking at his empty cup. “Let’s go get a drink.” When he walked up to his close friends, he grimaced at you being flung around by Pope. An odd feeling was at the pit of his stomach, it was almost like a mix of regret and jealousy but he ignored it, like every other feeling he had when it came to you. “Look what the cat dragged in.” He snarled, handing his cup to John B to fill up.

At the sound of his voice, your spine tensed up and you were released from Pope’s embrace to come face to face with your own nemesis. You ignored the girl that looked between the two of you, your friends’ breath hitched in their throat getting ready for another annual greeting. You cocked your hip, brow raised with a humorous look on your face. “Wow, JJ, surprised you haven’t ended up dead in a ditch yet.”

JJ scoffed and rolled his blue eyes, “How many kooks are you planning on fucking this time around?” He retorted, watching your eyes narrow. If looks could kill, he knew he’d be dead five years ago.

“Looks like you’re one step ahead of me,” You turned your attention to the confused brunette who was nibbling on her nails, “Honestly, sweetheart, if you’re lowering yourself down to this--”

“That’s enough, Y/N.” Kie interrupted you, placing a red cup in your hands and pulling you away from the blonde that sent anger through your veins. “I just don’t get it.” She sighed, sitting on a log near one of the many fires that were brewing.

You glanced subtly over your shoulder, seeing that your friends dispersed into different crowds but he stood where you left him. JJ’s eyes found yours, neither one of you looking away at first. It wasn’t until his girl pulled his face to hers that your eye contact was broken. Your brows creased closer, confused by the sudden feeling of annoyance that erupted inside you. For the first time, you weren’t annoyed at the man himself, just the fact that he was kissing some random girl.

A week into your visit passed by in a flash, just as it usually did. Kie kept her promise and brought you on adventures through back roads and hiking trails. On the slow days, you also helped out at The Wreck; you knew that your uncle would make you do shifts there so instead of him confronting you, you volunteered to help. It was late on Sunday, you offered to close up and let Kie go hang out with the gang. Despite her protests, she was out the door in less than ten minutes telling you to head over to John B’s when you were ready.

You plugged your phone into the speaker system, playing a random playlist that you created. The Rolling Stones blasted around the bar and you cleared off the remaining tables, twisting and turning to the music. There were no customers left and you turned off the ‘open’ sign. Just as you were about to lock the main door, your eyes spotted a number of hooded figures under the dim lights out on the street. You were about to ignore them until you realised that they were kicking the crap out of someone, and from the mop of blonde hair flinging around, you knew exactly who it was.

“For fucks sake,” You sighed, grabbing the closest object to you and rushing out to defend JJ. “Hey!” You yelled, rushing over to the crowd and getting the three men’s attention. “Bit of a pussy move jumping someone by themselves.”

The men, who you presumed were Kooks, didn’t scatter like you were expecting them to. Instead, they turned to look at you, eying you up. You heard JJ groan on the ground, you were surprised you could hear the sound of the beating of your heart thumbing through your body. The man in the middle stepped closer to you, “Ain’t you pretty…” He reached to caress your cheek but you slapped his hand away, earning mocking sounds of surprise from the others.

“Look, sweetheart, we don’t want to fight with you too.” The dark-haired man hummed from beside JJ.

“You wanna fight him, you gotta fight me too.” JJ tried to protest as the words left your mouth which earned him a kick in the stomach. The man in front of you looked back at JJ, which was the perfect opportunity for you to get your shots in. You kneed him in the groin, causing him to hiss loudly and lean forward. You threw your fist against his jaw, and then again, and another punch for good measure. He fell to the floor, holding his crotch. Your eyes widened when his friend lunged for you, grabbing you and flinging you to the ground. You winced when your shoulder took the impact, but you continued kicking out as the man tried to climb on top of you.

He grabbed your legs, locking them down with his own legs that were much stronger than your whole body. You grabbed his collar quickly, bringing his body to yours before you swung your head to headbutt him. Both of you groaned at the impact but you used this chance to kick his body off you and you climbed on top of him, swinging punch after punch.

Strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you off the man and you were about to swing a punch until you realized it was JJ holding you this time. You looked over his shoulder to see the third man knocked out, the other two scrambling away muttering profanities under their breath. You sighed in relief, crashing into JJ’s body, your adrenaline disappeared and exhaustion washed over you quickly.

“What the fuck was that?” JJ shouted, gripping your shoulders to look at you.

“That was just me saving your fucking life.” You spat back at him, looking up at his busted face. You suddenly became aware of how close he was to you, when your chest rose with your rapid breathing it was touching his bare chest. He wore his shirt unbuttoned, showing off his toned chest. You ripped your body from his grasp, stalking away from him before you had the audacity to check him out again. You could hear him following you closely and you sighed, holding the bar door open for him before locking it behind him.

The tension was heavy as you breathed heavily in each other’s presence but neither one of you wanted to break the silence. JJ walked over to the freeze, grabbing the loose ice and placing it in a cloth before handing it to you. He was trying his best to calm his heart, the fact that you were willing to fight three kooks for him had his emotions soaring in all different directions. And when he had to pull you off one of them, he couldn’t deny how sexy you looked throwing punches like it was your favorite hobby. He was meant to hate you, not want to fuck you right now.

JJ ran his fingers through his hair before getting some ice for himself. He leaned up against the isle, watching you sit on one of the bar stools, hissing as you covered your knuckles with the cloth. He nibbled on his bottom lip, glancing around the restaurant. “Where’s Kie?” He asked, his voice soft.

“JB’s.” You replied, not actually knowing how to hold a conversation with JJ.

“Cool…” He hummed, bopping his head to the song that was playing around you. “I think this is the longest we’ve ever been in the same room without killing each other.”

“Nah, instead I just almost got killed because of you.” You huffed, rolling your eyes.

“I didn’t ask you to come out and fucking fight.” JJ retorted, his voice rising with each word.

“And what do I do when the police pull up asking about some jackass that was murdered outside here?” You stood up from the barstool, ditching the ice in the sink. “Nah, sorry officer, I knew it was a good for nothing son of a bitch so I left him there to die.” You yelled, mocking a posh accent.

“You are impossible!” JJ spat, each word filled with venom and hatred. You pushed passed him, trying to get to the back room but he grabbed your wrist to stop you. You looked up at him, watching as his jaw tensed and his eyes studied your expression. Your features were stiff, your chest rising and falling with each deep breath. He was so close to you, you could feel his breath fan over your face. You waited for him to say something, and you were shocked when his eyes fell to your lips. His own tongue swiped across his pink lips but before this could go any further, you ripped your hand from his grasp and walked away into the back room, leaving him there.

“Where have you been?” Kie exclaimed when you walked into the chateau an hour after you were meant to. She looked up from the boys to your face, gasping when she spotted the darkening bruise that was starting to shot up around your left eye. “What happened to you?”

You glanced around the room quickly, noting that the blonde that left the Wreck was nowhere to be seen. “I-umh, I fell and hit my face on the corner of the bar. It’s nothing really.” You mumbled, wincing when Kie reached to touch it, “Don’t do that.” You hissed, slapping her hand away.

“Ouch…” John B whistled, tossing you a bottle of beer that was much needed. You downed it in half a second, before reaching for another one. The brunette boy shared a look at your cousin, which you ignored before crashing down on the couch beside Pope and released the bubble of worry that has been forming in your lungs since you left The Wreck.

You managed to avoid any questions from your family about your new black eye over the last few days, you also successfully managed to avoid JJ, which wasn’t hard when he was staying away from you. It was Wednesday, the sun was hanging high in the sky and Kiara was forcing you to go out on the boat with her and the gang. It didn’t take you long to agree, you refused to let JJ ruin your yearly trip. You walked along the dock beside Kiara, looking to where the HMS was pulling up to collect you.

Your eyes immediately connected with the blue-eyed blonde who was navigating the boat before he turned his attention to the horizon in front of him. Pope grasped your hand, helping you onto the boat and took the icebox from your other hand. You smiled at him, as a silent thank you and made yourself comfortable, despite being under the scrutiny of JJ. His face was still busted up, his lip was swollen and he had a black eye that matched yours perfectly.

JJ found the perfect spot to anchor the boat. He was a lot quieter than usual, he hadn’t spoken to you once which was odd, you were waiting for him to throw a nasty comment your way. You were sure you weren’t the only one to notice, Kie had given you a puzzled look when JJ turned his back.

“I think I could get used to this.” John B was the first to break the intense silence, sipping on his beer.

“Used to what?” You asked, biting the bate first.

“You and JJ getting along.” Kie and Pope both groaned in unison at John B’s words.

Kie slapped him on the back of the head, “Why jinx it?”

You ignored JJ’s stare and stood up on the boat, “I’m going for a swim.” You announced, stripping from your shorts and tank. You caught JJ’s eyes scanning up and down your body before he gulped, and chugged down his beer. You didn’t say anything to entertain the situation, you just dived into the marsh, wincing at the shock of the cold water.

The day passed by quickly and for the most part, it was filled with laughter and generally a good time. The sun was setting in front of you and you laid on the front of the boat soaking up the last of the rays, the others were chatting in pairs but you felt that you had chatted enough for the day. You bopped your head to the music that was playing from the speaker JJ brought along and you were lost in your own thoughts. You hadn’t noticed someone sitting beside you until their knee buckled against yours and you jumped at the contact.

JJ chuckled at your frightened state and you sighed, ignoring the blond. He handed you a cold beer and you reluctantly reached out for it. “I didn’t poison it.” He huffed, drinking is own full one.

“I wouldn’t put that past you.” You replied, eventually accepting the beer.

You sat in silence for a moment, you weren’t sure if you were enjoying his company. You could feel the warmth radiate from his bare torso and he smelt of seawater and weed; something about that combination weirdly comforted you. “Y/N, I… I just wanted to thank you for the other night.” JJ sighed, running his fingers through his wet hair. It was a good look for him.

“It’s all good.” You mumbled, focusing your attention on the sunset in front of you.

“No, honestly. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you just left me for dead.” JJ pursued his lips, swallowing back a lump that formed in his throat. You heard the croak in his voice and looked up to his face, seeing his blue eyes glistening. Was JJ about to cry in front of you? The thought made you uncomfortable, you didn’t know how to comfort someone you hated. But did you really hate him?

“JJ,” You sighed, sitting up straight. “I-that thought never even occurred to me… to leave you, I mean. You’re Kie’s friend, and that means I have your back.”

JJ licked his lips, looking down at you and he forced a closed smile, trying not to let the tears fall. “I was thinking… I think we should try to be friends.” You were shocked at his words, and you raised your brow as if asking him to elaborate on this sudden epiphany. “I’m tired of arguing with you, and after seeing you beat up those two kooks, I don’t want to be on your bad side anymore.”

You stiffened a laugh, chuckling along with JJ. You shook your head, a small smile on your face before you nodded, agreeing. “Let’s try this.” You reached your hand out to JJ, watching him shake it as if you just made a million-dollar deal. “But if I remember correctly, you were once a victim of my right hook.”

“Please don’t remind me. That traumatized me.”

This trip was slowly starting to make its way into the top three of your favorites. Ever since JJ waved the white flag of surrender, everything felt a lot easier. You weren’t looking over your shoulder every twenty minutes waiting for him to make a comment and your brain wasn’t working on overdrive trying to come back with a good enough comeback. Instead, you were actually laughing with him and getting along with him better than you expected.

That’s how you ended up being the one to collect him from one of his work places. You were parked outside a massive, fancy hotel tapping your fingers against the steering wheel of John B’s van waiting for the blonde to appear. Never in a million years did you think you would willingly volunteer to collect JJ from work. You knocked down the sunshade, looking in the mirror at your appearance and cringing at the sight of the purple bruise still evident on your face. It was slowly getting better and sometimes, you even forgot it was there.

“That makes you look like a badass.” JJ chimed, jumping into the passenger side of the van. You jumped at the sound of his voice, shooting him a glare. “Sorry.” He laughed, a pink tint framing his cheeks.

You started the van up driving in the direction of John B’s house, the feeling of excitement brewing now that you were finally going to be able to join them down at the boneyard. You liked how there wasn’t intense tension surrounding you, it was comfortable despite only being friends for a couple of days. “For your information, I am a badass.”

JJ whistled, rolling down the window and sticking his arm out. “Don’t I know it,” He grinned at you, and you noticed a fresh cut on his face.

“How’d you get that?” Your eyes flickered from the road to his face, watching his fingers wipe the dried in blood. “Nearly seventeen and you’re still getting into fights…” You hummed, raised eyebrows.

“You’re not the only badass in this van.” He winked, making you roll your eyes.

“No, but you’re the only dumbass.” Looking out the driver’s window, you hid the smile that was spreading across your face. JJ chuckled, reaching for his hat to take it off and he ran his fingers through his mop of blonde hair before putting it back on backwards. “Do you want to go home first to get changed?”

JJ’s breath hitched in his throat, eying the shorts he was wearing and the grey shirt. He noted the blood stain on his shorts, but shook his head in protest. “Nah, I’ll be good.” You ignored the shaking in his voice, nodding in acknowledgement before stepping on the gas.

You walked onto the beach, side by side with JJ, and were surprised when you noticed how big the crowd already was. It was nearing the end of the summer, every touron wanted to get their last kegger in before they had to go back to their mundane life. You understood how they felt, knowing you weren’t going to be here for much longer. It didn’t take long for you to allocate the Pogues gathered around a beer keg and you danced over to where Kiara was, your hips swaying to the music. JJ couldn’t help watch you as you left his side, nibbling on his bottom lip. A blush crept up his neck when he realised that he was checking out your ass and he swallowed his saliva, bringing his attention to where Pope was.

“What was that?” His friend asked him, looking between you and the blonde.

“Umh, nothing.” JJ responded, taking the cup filled with liquor that JB offered him.

“You were totally checking Y/N out, man. Since when did that happen?” John B chimed into the conversation making JJ groan with annoyance.

“I was not.” He defended himself, chucking the beer back. His eyes looked over the rim of the red cup, watching you laugh with Sarah and Kie. His heart fluttered and that feeling of nausea was back, which he realised was not a feeling of being revolted by your presence, instead it was a mixture of nerves and lust.

“Look, he’s doing it again.” John B laughed, “I can’t believe this.”

“Can’t believe what?” Sarah asked, walking up to the brunette and wrapped her arms around his neck. Instantly, his arms circled around her waist pulling her body closer to him. JJ shot John B a pointed look, as if telling him not to say another word, but that only maybe Sarah’s face washed over with confusion. “What’s going on?”

“I just got into another fight with one of your kind.” JJ replied, finishing his drink and filling it up again. Sarah rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore him. She was used to his anger and distaste to Kooks and she just learned to live with it.

When you twirled around to the music, your body froze and your stare was focused on three Kooks making their own onto the beach. Their eyes were scanning the crowd, as if looking for something, or someone. You made your way over to JJ who situated himself on a large log beside Pope, you subtly tapped him on the shoulder and he looked up at you in shock. His eyes followed your stare and they widened, he stood up from his sitting position and grabbed your hand, dragging you in the opposite direction of the three boys that you punched nearly a week ago.

Your friends' eyes all followed your retreating bodies, confusion evident on everyone’s face but you decided it was best to explain later. JJ led you away from the scanning eyes. You couldn’t help but notice how warm his hand felt in yours, his fingers engulfed yours and when he pulled you in the direction of the lifeguard’s hut, your thoughts imagined other ways that he could use his strength over you.

“In here,” JJ instructed, opening the hut and letting you enter first. He closed the door behind him, his heart hammering against his chest as he looked out onto the beach from the windows and trying to scan for the men. He stood there in front of you, you remained in the middle of the wooden room, he was conflicted with his decision to bring you here but he wasn’t in the mood for another fight. JJ looked at you and he let out a nervous laugh, reaching to scratch the back of his neck. A string of giggles escaped from your throat and you shook your head, releasing a sigh of relief you didn’t realise you were holding.

“We can’t hide in here all night.” You chuckled, leaning against the bare wall. “Or we should have bought some alcohol if we were.”

“Shit, yeah…” JJ muttered, looking around the room to see that it was nearly empty. A desk and a chair occupied the room, an empty cooler and that was it. He hummed along to the music that felt like miles away but he knew the song well enough to go on his own. “We’ll just hang here for a bit, wait until they fuck off.”

“Were they the ones that gave you that cut?” You asked, bringing his attention to the new addition to his injuries.

JJ chewed on the inside of his cheek, not wanting to get into the conversation of him fighting but when you looked up at him with those eyes, he wanted to tell you every little detail. He wasn’t used to feeling like this around people, and he definitely wasn’t expecting to feel like this around you but you brought a sense of calmness to him. “No, this was actually Topper.”

“Is he still bothering you?” You gasped, shaking your head in disbelief. “They just don’t give up, do they?”

“Nah, they’re pretty stubborn.”

“Nearly as stubborning as the Pogues.” Teasing him, you liked the way that he didn’t take offense to everything you said now and how he welcomed little bickers with you. The longer you were stuck in the hut with him, the more time it gave you to watch him. He was definitely attractive, probably the best looking man on this island but there was something behind his eyes, something that made him look lost and sad. The thought of him hurting made your chest tighten.

JJ kicked your ankles gently, making you crash to the floor. He tumbled with laughter, bending over and holding his stomach. You looked up at him from the floor, shocked. “I-I’m sorry but you… you were asking for it.” He said in between his howls of laughter. When his laughter calmed down, you dived into simple conversation about your lives and it just flowed so easily. It wasn’t until the sun completely set that you knew it was time to burst this bubble you have formed and head back to the rest of the Pogues. JJ stood up first, reaching to grab your hand and pull you up. You expected him to let go but you didn’t complain when his fingers intertwined with yours and he walked out of the hut.

The smile on your face only lasted a couple of seconds, when you came face to face with a boy that you met briefly last week when you introduced him to your first. “That’s them, officer.”

“Wh-what?” You coughed out, looking at the three kooks that were occupied by the county sheriff. “What’s going on?” You yelled, when JJ’s hand got ripped from yours. The commotion slowed down, everything felt like a blur and you could hear the cackle of the three unnamed boys.

“You’re under arrest for…” The blood pumped in your ears and you looked at JJ in shock, his face going pale. You screamed when your arms were pulled behind you and tears formed in your eyes when the feeling of steel wrapped around your wrist.

“Hey, hey, leave her alone. It had nothing to do with her.” JJ yelled in protest, the sheriff looked at the boy before shrugging.

“Fine, looks like you’re my bitch for the night then.” He released the handcuffs that were on your wrist but the tears didn’t falter. You watched as he bent JJ over, tightening the cuffs on his wrist making him wince.

“JJ-” You started but he shook his head, ceasing your protests.

“This ain’t my first rodeo, princess.” The blue-eyed boy chuckled, but you caught sight of a single tear rolling down his cheek. You watched him disappear into the darkness with the sheriff, the three boys trailing behind them. You choked out tears before retreating back to the Pogues, hoping someone will be able to help JJ.

The days went by slowly, it was strangely quiet around the Chateau now that JJ wasn’t crashing there. The last you heard, bail was posted but he hadn’t left his house since. When you went back to the gang, they kept interrogating you with questions about what happened the night at The Wreck and you came clear with them. It was silly not telling them when it first happened, especially Kiara, but it just felt like a secret that bonded you and JJ. You didn’t realise how much you were missing the blonde; everytime the door to John B’s house, you perked up but then deflated much to your other friends’ dismay.

You only had a week left on the Island and the longer you were alone with your own thoughts, the more you began to see JJ in a different light. When the anger and frustration towards him that fogged your mind dispersed, you couldn’t help but deny the obvious connection you had created with him in such a small time. It’s why you found yourself walking towards his house, knowing where he lived because Kie would drive by to pick him up with you in the car sometimes.

When the house came into view, you hitched a breath of nerves. How were you going to tell the man you once hated that you actually liked him? The only benefit to this plan was that you were leaving soon, so if he didn’t share the same feelings, it would give you a year to get over him. You walked up the trial, seeing someone on the porch. The closer you got, the more attention the man paid to you.

“Can I help you?” He called out, making you stop in your tracks.

“H-hi, I’m just looking for JJ, is he here?” Your voice was shy, almost weak as the man stared you down. He stood up from the stool he was sitting on and leaned up against the wooden porch, eying you up and down. You swallowed back a lump in your throat, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.

“What’s a pretty girl like you want with a piece of shit like my son?” The words JJ’s father spoke shocked you, your eyes widening.

“E-excuse me, sir?” You stuttered, not sure if he was joking with you but his expression remained stern. You were about to answer his question when JJ walked out of the door, not noticing you at first. His grey cap rested over his messy hair and he was wearing an unbuttoned shirt. He looked at his father before following his line of sight and his blue eyes widened when he saw you.

JJ rushed from the porch, grabbing the top of your arm and pulling you away from his house. “What are you doing here?” He hissed through clenched teeth. He dragged you out of sight from his father, who returned to what he was working on before. You were still in shock with what his father said about him, and it wasn’t until JJ spoke again that your attention was brought to his face. “Well?”

Your eyes scanned JJ’s face, his whole left side bruised and his lip was busted again. He hasn’t been seen around the island in days, and your eyes trailed down his chest that was exposed, showing more bruises littering around his torso. “JJ-” You gasped, reaching out to softly caress his chest. JJ winced at the touch, not because it hurt him but because it brought a sudden wave of comfort over him and his eyes fluttered closed. You began putting the pieces of the puzzle together and your heart ached. “JJ, was this your father?” You whimpered, his eyes locked on you and the watering of them gave you your answer. “Oh my god…”

“Look… Y/n, the boys know, alright? I-it’s not some crazy secret…” JJ muttered, his bottom lip began trembling and you immediately wrapped your arms around his body, pulling him closer to you. JJ hesitated for a moment before he circled his arms around you as well, bringing his face into the crook of your neck and you could feel his chest heaving as he sobbed into you.

You didn’t care how much time passed by as you stood there holding JJ, you wouldn’t care even if it started lashing rain. You were going to hold him for as long as he needed. “I’m so sorry…” JJ huffed into your neck and his breath tickling your skin, sending goosebumps down your body.

“No, JJ, you don’t have to be sorry.” You whispered, running your hand up and down his back as a soothing technique. JJ pulled back, much to your dismay and your hands left his body. The coldness immediately swamping around you, but you tried to hide the disappointment on your face. “Was this my fault?” You asked, pointing to his busted lip.

“What? No, of course not.”

“If you didn’t get arrested that night, would this have happened?” You questioned again, and you felt nauseous at the look on JJ’s face that confirmed your thoughts. “Oh god…” You mumbled, your hand covering your mouth as you started to cry. “I’m so sorry.” It was your turn to apologise, and you kept repeating it over and over again.

JJ hesitated again before wrapping you in his arms this time. “Look, if it wasn’t that night. It would have been another night. I don’t blame you in the slightest.” JJ reassured you, brushing your hair down with his hand. He’s never comforted a crying girl before, and he never thought he would be the one to ever comfort you but he liked it. He liked looking after you.

“I’m sorry,” You said again, causing JJ to groan. “You don’t deserve to be treated like this.” You whispered softly into his chest. The words caused JJ’s heart to skip a beat, you saying that meant more to him than you’d ever known. He was the one that gave you such a hard time on the island, he knew you gave him just the same amount of challenges, but to hear you say that he deserved better made him feel like he already had better with you.

“Stop saying that.” He chuckled, smiling amongst the tears trying to ignore the bubbling feeling of adoration. His eyes were red and puffed, his face flushed and you knew you probably resembled his look, except he probably pulled it off a lot better than you did. “What has you here anyways?” JJ asked, wanting nothing more than to bring the attention away from his father’s antics.

You sighed, realising that now was definitely not the time to tell him how you truly felt. Licking your lips, you forced a closed smile in his direction. “I-we missed you, we wanted to see how you were doing.”

“We?” JJ asked, raising his brows and his lips held a teasing smirk that made your stomach erupt in butterflies.

“We, you know, your friends.” You laughed, smacking his chest playfully.

“That’s a pity…” He replied, pouting at you.

“What is?” Your eyes narrowed, daring him to continue this banter that was bouncing between your bodies.

JJ was about to say something but his father’s voice interrupted him. He yelled something incoherent and JJ groaned, “I have to get back.”

You grabbed JJ’s hand in yours as he started to walk away, pulling him to a stop. He raised his brow in your direction, but you just sent him a small smile. “Come by the chateau tonight, please.” You didn’t want him going back to his father but you knew you had no power over him and his decisions. JJ returned your smile, his eyes softening and he tugged his hand from yours, walking back to his house.

When JJ walked into the chateau later that night, he was met with the cheers and sighs of relief from his friends. He greeted everyone with hugs and fistbumps before his eyes found your body, he sent you a quick wink and you just rolled your eyes, biting your bottom lip to stop the grin erupting on your face. It was a relief to you that he was here, you knew he was safer here than anywhere else on the island.

It shocked you when JJ took a beer from the fridge and planted himself down beside you, his thigh touching yours. He stretched his legs out in front of him and he slumped closer to you. “Hey,” He said, flinging his hat off to hit John B on the head. His blonde hair remained tousled around his forehead, even after he dragged in fingers through it. Oh, how you wished you could feel your fingers going through it. The thought caused your face to heat up, and you turned your attention to Kie and Pope in their own conversation.

The night passed by quicker than you wanted it to. Another day closer to returning home. It was nice having everyone back over, it just wasn’t complete when JJ wasn’t around. He brought a light of joy and laughter to the room, despite the circumstances that he was going through. You appreciated him, a lot and you wish you could tell him just how you felt.

Kie stood up from the floor, arms stretching above her head and she looked at you. “Ready to go?” You hummed in agreement, trying to hide your disappointment as you followed her actions.

JJ’s heart raced when you stood up and he reached out to grab your wrist, you looked down at him in confusion. “I-uhm, I can walk you home in a while, if you want.” He mumbled, trying not to gain the attention of his friends but it was too late. Kiara’s eyes widened, Pope and John B shared a bewildered look and you looked like a deer in the headlights.

You swallowed back the shock before nodding, “Yeah, yeah, I’d like that.”

“Well, okay. I guess I’ll see you in the morning.” Kie hummed in confusion, not knowing what was going on.

“I’ll come with you then.” Pope smiled, not wanting Kiara to leave by herself even though he knew no one would mess with her. They both left together after saying their goodbyes. It was just you, JJ, and John B left in the living room.

John B twisted on his heels, looking between the pair of you. JJ nodded his head towards his bedroom, trying to get him to leave them alone. John B choked on the beer he had taken a sip of, “I’ll leave you two… alone?” John B furrowed his brows and retreated to his bedroom, muttering something underneath his breath.

You stayed quiet, picking at a loose thread on your shorts. You were very aware of the fact that JJ was looking at you, studying your facial expressions. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you just there.” JJ broke the silence, you twisted on your seat to look at him, shaking your head.

“You didn’t embarrass me, JJ. Why would you think they did?”

“They probably think something is going on between us,” JJ chuckled, and you tried to play it off as a joke, “I just wanted to say thank you, for earlier I mean. You didn’t have to come over to check on me.”

“I wanted to.” You smiled at him, watching him suck in his bottom lip. You wanted to groan at the action, finding it unbelievably sexy. “I never thanked you for taking the fall for me either.”

JJ sighed, running his hand over his face. “It was my fault you got into the fight, it was the least I could do especially when you hated me at the time.”

Hated me. The words suppressed your mind, they got you thinking. “To be honest with you, JJ. I don’t think I ever really hated you.” You looked at his expression seeing it softening and he looked more vulnerable than he usually does. “I think it was a way to disguise other feelings…” You added, cringing when the words left your lips.

“W-what?” JJ questioned, sitting up straighter. You quickly stood up from the couch, the action startling JJ and he followed your lead. He stood up, watching you nearly start hyperventilating. He grabbed your shoulders, stopping you from pacing and his eyes studied your face. “You like me?” He asked, his pink lips parted.

You whined something inaudible, avoiding his face before nodding shyly. “Yeah, I do, JJ and I don’t know when I started to feel like this, it… it just happened.”

“Are you sure?” JJ insisted, his arms still holding onto you tightly. When you nodded again, JJ pulled you closer to his body and scanned your face quickly, for any hint of regret or hesitation, before he crashed his lips onto yours. JJ forgot what it was like to share a kiss with someone he actually cared about, he was sweet and patient with it. He brought his hand to your cheek, cupping it as his lips moved with yours. Your world felt like it was spinning, like this couldn’t be happening but it was. You were kissing JJ Maybank and your heart was filling with love, admiration, happiness with every second that passed.

JJ pulled away from your lips, his eyes fluttering open and you could feel his lashes tickling your face. You opened your eyes to see his blue orbs sparkling. “Do that again.” You whispered, bringing your lips to his, not wanting to forget how this moment felt. You ignored the twisting in your gut reminding you that you were leaving in less than a week, that you would be leaving this island and not returning for far too long. It was as if the same feelings washed over JJ and he pulled back, sighing. “What?” You whispered.

“I just can’t believe that it’s taken me this long to feel this.” JJ enlightened you, embracing you tightly. “And I’ll be losing you soon.”

You lifted your palm to JJ’s face, brushing your fingers over the evident bruises before kissing his nose, then each of his cheeks, then his lips again for a second. “You won’t ever lose me, JJ. You’re stuck with me now.”

He chuckled at your words, bringing his lips back to yours and you fell into a sweet routine that consisted of the perfect amount of talking and kissing. You both agreed to not talk about you leaving, enjoying every moment that you had together from then onwards.

🌻 🌻 🌻 🌻

apologies for any typos, i wasn’t arsed to proofread it after spending hours writing it oops

but pls gimme feedback, i beg, ty

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