#ive draw him twice today get ready for more | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yesimwriting · 3 years ago

Text

playing vices

“A/n a blurb bc ive been working on my novel and ive missed writing for Kirigan :))

I am a fool that has played into her vices enough to make them addictions. That must have been Kirigan's plan. He knows that I don't agree with his methods. He is also much too aware of the fact that I am beyond attached to him. He plays into that fact often, lulling me to him whenever he feels that my conscious is in danger of driving a wedge between us.

Which is why I have become accustomed to falling asleep while running my fingers along his skin as he whispers things much sweeter than anything he would say while fully awake.

But now it's late and he's not here. I sit up, kicking the comforter off of me slightly. It seems Aleksander has been more and more absent these days. When he's not with me, the odds that he's doing something that hurts people are high. His absence is also starting to make me feel like he's losing interest in me. It would make sense considering the fact that he looked twice at me in any capacity has never seemed logical.

Maybe that's why we've never indicated commitment to each other. I don't know what commitment would be with him. He seems to grand to be considered a 'boyfriend', but there's something more than friendly about how he holds onto me. I've never cared for labels until I started feeling displaced.

"You're still awake."

I press my lips together, trying to seem a little calmer. "Couldn't sleep."

"Troubling thoughts?" The question is more weighted than it should be. Everything with him is.

“Has anyone ever called you dramatic?”

His lips quirk upwards, hinting at a smile. Warmth pools in my stomach, the way it always does when he lets me see the slight glimmer of light that’s still in him. Sometimes I think he only shows me this softness when he feels that I may pull away. It may be rooted in manipulative intent, but I know that it’s real.

“Only you would have the gall,” he says, voice low yet not dark.

Kirigan’s easiness coaxes a smile from my lips. A small one, but I can feel the way the crack in my tension feeds his confidence. He takes pride in slipping past the walls I only try to create when cautious or irritated. Today I’m both but I need to pretend like I’m neither. The more resistance he senses, the more forward and effective his advances become.

I keep my expression neutral. I’m sure Alina could get away with calling him that. I wish she was more unlikable. It would be easier to hide my irritation if I could blame that displaced feeling in my chest on two people. But of course Alina is wonderful, beautiful, and his equal.

Whatever. It’s not like we’re really anything. Every time I see him I wait for his betrayal. There’s nothing worth using me for, and somehow that makes me feel worse. He should have never looked at me twice let alone encourage whatever strange relationship we’ve created.

My silence seems to displease him because he approaches my bedside easily in quick yet patient strides. Now that he’s close enough to touch I feel some of the ice I managed to solidify melt.

Kirigan lifts a hand and places it on my knee easily. I stiffen instinctually, he runs his thumb over my skin to fight my resistance. “Who’s upset you?”

I breathe, forcing myself to ease. “No one has.” I don’t have to meet his gaze to know he doesn’t believe me. That’s the core source of our attachment, we can read each other with less than a look. “I’m just getting a headache,” not a full lie, “I’ll feel better after some sleep.” He squeezes my knee slightly, a soft way of asking me for more. “I don’t think I’ll be good company tonight.”

His hand leaves my knee, fingertips barely grazing my thigh as he moves his hand to hold beneath my chin. I still as he turns my head so that I have no choice but to meet his gaze. “You don’t need to be good company when what I want is your presence.”

I press my lips together to avoid melting into the promising pools of warmth that make up his irises. He spent all day with Alina, took Zoya’s side in an argument I had with her earlier this week, and now he comes to me late at night. He seems to only want to acknowledge me when we’re alone, and it’s not like I want more than that. I just don’t know how long my heart will be able to teeter the line between nothing and something. I’m a fool for having let it go on this long.

The only problem is that his steady stare is chasing away all of my rationality. “I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone more in the mood to offer their presence.”

My curtness leaves something behind his expression dull, the hint of a smile that was growing on him has now vanished. I am met with a stoic disposition I have never had directed at me.

“They’re not you,” he counters, voice edged by something I don’t understand.

That’s the point. They’re not me--I’m average. I can’t offer power and my relationship experience is basic at best. I don’t want to have this argument, not when I’m basically fighting for him to let me go when that’s not what I want.

I’m making it easier. If it hurts this much when I was only on the cusp of something, imagine the pain I’l feel if I let it continue. I turn my head away so that he’s no longer holding my chin. “Not a bad thing.”

“To me it is.” He doesn’t hesitate, my chest swells. His thumb brushes against my cheek, soft and comforting. “I’m tired,” he says this like it’s a confession. His admission hangs in the air for a long moment, as heavy and weighted as my heart. “If you’re angry, wait until morning.”

Something in my heart cracks. “I’m not angry.” My gaze drops, my thoughts struggling to come together. “I’ll be nicer to deal with in the morning.”

“Y/n,” his tone twists from distant to warning, “the last time you asked me to leave was when you discovered something you didn’t like.”

I almost wince at the way he’s worded it. When I found out what his real plans were, I told myself I had to leave. He skirted past all of my reservations and walls, twisting my doubt away through coddling whispers and shy brushes of fingers.

“This isn’t like that.” Not a lie.

He exhales slowly, the sound dangerously sharp. “Then what is it?”

“Why did you come here so late?” The question leaves me too sharply. I’m exposing too much but I can’t help it. “If you don’t want to answer, that’s fine.” My voice is flat. “I’m sure Alina will be happy to fill me in.” I can’t bring myself to take in his reaction. “And if she can’t, I’m sure Zoya will be able to.”

He’s silent for a long second. “Unwarranted jealousy doesn’t suit you.”

His confidence sparks something angry within me. “I am not jealous.” The most blatant lie of the night, but I don’t care. I turn my head to glare at him, “and don’t just tact on ‘unwarranted’ before something that’s true just because it’s easier for it not to be.”

I watch his expression cautiously until the slightest tilt of his lips adds to my anger. He’s enjoying this or he did this intentionally or both. “Darling,” he hums, voice soft, “you are the only person that makes me feel peace.”

My stomach flutters, the sensation threatening to break my weak resolve. “I am not particularly powerful,” I breathe, voice stiff, “or particularly...” How do I explain this all to him? “Anything.” He’s everything, and I am nothing but average. “I’m average at best, there’s no reason for you to want anything to do with me, and that’s fine--but don’t lie and pretend that that’s not true.”

The sentence is barely out fo my mouth before I feel myself pulled towards him by the collar of my nightgown. His lips are on mine before I can question where this is going. I kiss him back too quickly, but any effort I expend is returned fervently.

He pushes me back slightly as quickly as he yanked me forward. He doesn’t explain. I don’t ask him to. I should demand an answer and shove him away from me or pull him back towards me. But I do nothing. I just stare at him as he stares at me.

When the weight of the silence threatens to break something in me, I force myself to speak, “Kirigan--”

“Aleksander.” The name is soft and so fragile I worry it will shatter in the air before it can fully reach me. “You know there’s much I’m not ready to say, but that,” he exhales, the sound so sad I want to reach for him, “that is the one name I have not given to myself and I want you to have it.” Something conflicted crosses his features. “I would never give that to someone average.”

Emotion swells in my chest, heavy yet not painful. “Aleksander.” I’m not sure if I’m trying to call to him or if I’m just trying to feel his name--his true name--on my lips.

His eyes widen, something unbearable behind them. He moves the hand holding the collar of my nightgown to my cheek. I lean into the contact like a fool as his eyes flutter shut. “Say it again.”

I don’t hesitate, “Aleksander.” I lift my hand, fingers hesitant to find their place on his cheek. “Aleksander.”

He sighs into both the contact and the name. “You’re the first thing I’ve allowed myself to want,” his eyes open, but I cannot bring myself to meet his gaze, “I should make you feel like it.”

Something about the way he says that is sad. “I think that if it’s fair to say you were a little distant, it’s just as fair to say that I was a little jealous.”

Aleksander smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m tired,” he admits, “I’ll enjoy my victory in the morning.”

I roll my eyes, but scoot over to give him a place by my side regardless. “I’m not sure you won, I think it was more of a draw.”

He takes the space I offer quickly, never letting the contact between us disappear as he settles himself against my pillow. I let him pull me towards him. “This feels like a victory.”

I try to ignore the warmth in my chest. “You’re lucky I’m tired enough to find that endearing.”

I relax as his fingers trace shapes I’ll never know about onto my back. “I agree.”

#shadow and bone #grisha #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #sab imagine #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #general kirigan imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morovoza #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morovoza x reader #the darkling #the darkling imagine #the darkling x reader #the darkling x you

235 notes · View notes

thora-jane · 3 years ago

Text

Twin-Way Mirror (Pt iv)

Series Summary: You've been friends with the Weasley twins since your first train to Hogwarts, but as the three of you start your 6th year, you start to question if your feelings go beyond friendship.

Summary for Pt 4: You begin to feel something is truly off about the twins as you all start to get ready for the world cup

Warnings: gets the slightest bit spicy, someone briefly isn't wearing a shirt but nothing happens lol

Word count: 2,637

female!reader, 2nd person POV

(a/n): We're back to Twin-Way Mirror BUT! I'm still taking requests! I think it'd be awesome to make some stories any of you want to see! Don't be nervous to reach out and send me an ask! Please!!!! I sit in the college cafeteria every morning for hours needing something to do!!!!! Love you all and hope you have a ~magical~ day <3

***

“(Y/n)! (y/n), get up!” Hermione whispered, shaking your shoulders lightly, “We need to get ready to go, could you wake up the twins? I need to get the other boys.”

You nodded, eyes not fully open as you sat up in bed and stretched. By the time you had rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and looked around, Hermione was already gone. Crawling out of bed, you looked over at the twins. Both of them were still fast asleep, and you tried to recall exactly how heavy of sleepers they were.

“C’mon, fellas, we gotta get moving,” You mumbled, nudging the one nearest to you. When there was no response, you sighed. Sitting down on their bed next to them, you leaned over and tucked his hair behind his ear. Freckles. Taking a deep breath, you placed your lips next to his ear. Without whispering, you woke him up, “Oi, Georgie Porgie. Get up, we need to go soon.”

You felt his leg kick out with a start as he bolted upright, his eyes snapping open and looking around before he saw you. You tried to hold back a smile but failed, and with an exasperated groan he grabbed your shoulders and yanked you over to him. You let out a little yelp as he wrapped his arms around you and yawned.

“How dare you,” he paused, squeezing you as he stretched out his legs, “waking me up in such a violent manner! Do you not care about my beauty sleep? It takes a lot of work to be the better looking one!” this got you to laugh, but not long after that a pillow came flying towards your face. George ducked, turning the two of you to shield you from the impact, “Careful love, I think we’ve awakened the savage beast,” He winked down at you before getting hit with another pillow.

“Savage beast? Speak for yourself Georgie. (y/n), where’s my good morning kiss? I dare say I feel a bit cheated,” Fred pouted. You wriggled out from George’s arms and threw a pillow back at Fred before walking to your trunk and taking out some clothes.

“Bold of you to assume George would even get a ‘good morning kiss.’ And if the two of you don’t get up you’re not going to get a good morning, period. Now c’mon, Hermione said we’d be leaving soon,” You picked up the pillow from your cot and threw it so it hit one of them, then ran out of the room before either had the chance to reciprocate your actions.

You changed as quickly as you could and combed your hair. You knew you didn’t have a whole lot of time to spend in the bathroom with a house full of people, but as you splashed your face and let the cold water drip off your nose, you started mulling over everything that had happened since you got here: Being carried into the house, Fred and George’s jokes about the handsomer twin, the moments where you’d make one of them go quiet, not to mention Fred kissing your forehead last night. It was all rather odd, really. You wondered if Hermione or Angelina would have anything to say about it. After drying off your face and deciding that talking to the girls about it wouldn’t hurt, you left the bathroom and headed back to put your pajamas back in your trunk. Apparently you were too used to having a room to yourself, as you opened the door without knocking.

That was a mistake.

“Bloody hell, (y/n)!” you heard one of them exclaim before you slammed the door and clamped your eyes shut. You weren’t sure which twin was still in their room, but whichever it was, they hadn’t exactly finished changing their shirt. A second later the door swung open again and you did everything in your power to not look up at them again.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry,” You winced, trying to duck below their arm and get through the doorway without touching them. He only laughed, and turned to watch you tip-toe through the bedroom out of embarrassment. Walking back towards the door and staring at your feet (either out of embarrassment or fear that he’d see your face turning as red as his hair) you had nearly made it out before he stuck out his arm to block you.

“I’m so sorry, I really am,” you stammered out again, still trying to avoid his gaze, “I forgot to knock and I thought you two had gone downstairs and-”

He only chuckled to himself, “It’s alright, (y/n), nothing that hasn’t happened before, and certainly not something that won’t ever happen again, right?”

At this you looked up, utterly confused, “I’m sorry, what?” you caught a glimpse of his jumper, green with a large letter ‘G’ knitted into the front.

“Oh, uh…” he paused, scratching the back of his head, “I only mean that...I’ve been walked in on before and...It’s bound to happen again and...well better me putting my shirt on than something else, right?” he offered a laugh, but after hearing his words leave his mouth it came out more like a wince.

After some hesitation you gave a weak smile, then nodded, “Right, yeah,” he coughed, and you looked down at your feet before pointing out to the hallway, “Let’s get going, then.”

***

The seven of you left the burrow just as the sun had started to rise, George and Fred had been walking with the other boys, passionately talking about who would win the quidditch match and debating what bets to place on which team. Meanwhile, you lagged behind with Hermione and Ginny. When you were sure the twins couldn’t hear you, you leaned over to Hermione and whispered.

“Have you noticed anything different about them lately?” you nodded to the gang of boys ahead of you.

“Well...Harry did mention having a bad dream last night. And he woke up with his scar hurting. We’re not sure what it is but-”

“No I uh...I meant the twins,” You interrupted, shoving your hands in your pockets as you watched them walking ahead of you. Merlin, they had gotten taller, they were practically twice as tall as Ginny and had to walk with their heads ducked so they wouldn’t be hit by any passing branches. One of them (George, you could see the top of the ‘G’ on his jumper from underneath his jacket) was walking backwards. He caught on that you were watching him, and his face lit up before he stuck out his tongue. You waved back, but quickly turned back to Hermione, “Something just seems a little different.”

“Well they’re much taller than the end of last term, and I suppose their hair has gotten a bit longer since the last time you three would have seen each other,” she thought aloud.

“I’m well aware of that,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ear in hopes that your hand shielded any blush on your face.

“And they are quite excited about the match today, if that means anything,” she added, tilting her head, “But other than that I haven’t really been paying much attention. Why do you ask?” she turned to you, curiosity in her voice.

“They talked about you practically all summer,” Ginny butted in, “Every other thing they said was (y/n) this and (y/n) that,” She stood up as tall as she could and tried to copy their voice to the best of her ability, “Blimey, Freddie, I sure wish (y/n) was here. You know she would appreciate our refined taste. Oi Ron, (y/n) wrote to you, the least you could do is say hi back to her! Look everyone, (y/n) sent me a letter! (Y/n) sent me a letter! Did Eros stop by, mum?” she sighed, shaking her head, “You’d think you were the only person in the world! No offense, of course. They spoke about you like you were some great celebrity.”

“Did they really?” You asked, rather puzzled as you looked back up towards the twins. George turned around again and gave you an exaggerated wave, with Fred following suit.

Ginny picked up her pace to catch up with the others, but before Hermione could do the same, you grabbed her hand, “I walked in on George this morning.” You almost blurted out.

“What?” she asked, rather shocked. You shushed her before she had the chance to say anything louder and draw attention.

“It’s not like I did it on purpose” you said in your defense, “I just opened the door and he wasn’t wearing-”

“I don’t want to know!” she interrupted in a harsh whisper, but after a moment she asked quickly, “What happened after that?”

“I slammed the door shut and probably turned as red as a tomato. Then when I went back in he sort of awkwardly made a joke about it, but he didn’t seem too bothered? He just wasn’t wearing a shirt, so it could have been way more...you know…awkward.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Well that’s for sure. (y/n), I haven’t the slightest idea what to tell you. You know George better than I do and by the looks of it, he doesn’t seem to be the least bit bothered,” She started to pick up the pace of her walk to catch up with the rest of the group, and you did the same.

“Hurry up kids, we’re nearly there!” Mr. Weasely called out over his shoulder as he ducked under another branch, “Ah, Amos!”

A man who you assumed was Amos Diggory smiled and loudly greeted Mr. Weasley, the two of them talked and exchanged a brief conversation about the weather before you heard Mr. Weasley ask, “Where is your son? Cedric, right?”

Cedric. That’s where you had heard the name Diggory before. Griffyndors and Hufflepuffs shared a potions class last year, and the two of you had been assigned as partners. He was a rather nice boy, and although the two of you didn’t exactly become best friends, you always waved to each other when he passed you in the hallways.

After making his grand entrance of jumping down from a tree, he greeted everyone with a simple nod. It was then that you caught his eye and he jogged over to walk beside you.

“(y/n), I didn’t expect to see you here. What a pleasant surprise if you don’t mind my saying so,” he smiled, and you could have sworn you saw Hermione and Ginny give each other a look out of the corner of your eye.

You nodded, “Yeah, the Weasleys were nice enough to invite Harry and I. How has your summer been, Cedric?” You looked over at him, trying to ignore the twins entering a small shoving match a few feet away.

“Oh it was quite nice, and you?” Cedric was always so polite, and that had proved helpful in potions with Professor Snape. The class was by default unbearable; the cold and dark and dank dungeon, Professor Snape’s face always glaring down at you over your shoulder, his comments on your insufferable eagerness to learn magic, on most days having Cedric as your partner was what made the actual class time worthwhile.

“Ah yes, the dynamic potions-brewing duo reunited once again.” Fred interrupted, slinging his arms over you and Cedric’s shoulders, startling both of you.

“It’s nice to see you too, George,” Cedric smiled, looking rather ruffled by the surprise.

“That’s not George,” you corrected, swinging one arm over Fred’s shoulder and the other over George beside you, nodding your head in his direction, “this one’s George.”

Cedric looked over at you in casual awe, “how do you do it, (y/n)? How do you tell them apart?”

You pulled the three boys closer, throwing your head back with a laugh, “Well it takes some practice. But it’s actually quite simple, you see-”

“Hurry up now! All of you! Gather round, it’s almost time!” Mr. Weasley called out, getting the four of you to jog up to join the group gathered around an old boot. George turned his head to Cedric, but didn’t take his eyes off you, “Come now, Ced, a magician never reveals his tricks.”

You looked back at him, pressing your back to his chest to reach out and place your fingertips on the boot, “Georgie, we’re all magic.”

Before he could respond, you felt your whole body’s weight lurch forward and your feet leave the ground, gravity hooking around your abdomen as the group of you took off spinning. At one point, you felt you were going to go flying off away from everyone. George must have felt this two, and you felt his arm wrap around your waist and pull you closer. You thought you heard Mr Weasley shout for all of you to let go, and before you could process what it was he was saying, George let go of the boot. You felt him fly away and, with his arm still around you, you were yanked off with him.

The two of you landed with an oof, your back still pressed against George’s back. You could hear him groan from beneath you as you rolled off him and scrambled to your feet, turning back around and offering out a hand to help him up. He smiled weakly, squinting up in the bright light as he reached out and grabbed your hand.

You weren’t sure what to blame, his arms strong from playing beater for Quidditch the past four years, or how you were still dizzy from your ride through the portkey. But what you did know was one moment you were standing, offering to help him up, and the next he had pulled you back on top of him.

The two of you froze, not breaking eye contact. You could see the horror grow on his face and blush creeping up on his ears. And, by the feel of it, your face was about the same. Neither of you moved or said a word until you thought you overheard Fred groan and Cedric laugh from over to the side.

“Sorry!” He cried out, a bit embarrassed as he shoved you off him and got up to his feet, now offering his hand to pull you up, “Let’s try this again, shall we?”

You reached up, clearing your throat as you tried to not look flustered. You weren't quite prepared for how quickly he tugged your arm though. Once again the two of you found yourselves rather close, your chests pressed together from how quickly he pulled you up.

“Oi, you two!” Fred called from behind you, grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him, “We’re gonna lose the others if you two don’t stop rolling around in the grass.”

You slung your bag over your shoulder and jogged to keep up with Fred’s big steps. You could see the big goofy grin on his face and couldn’t help but laugh. You’d seen the twins excited over pranks, but this was a different kind of excited; innocent, wide-eyed, wholesome (or as wholesome as the twins could get). Watching his face strain from all his smiling, you couldn’t help but laugh. He looked down at you with a sort of glint in his eye you couldn’t remember seeing before and he let out a chuckle as he loosened his grip ongeo your hand and spun you around.

“I don’t suppose you’ve been to a quidditch match outside of school. Have you, (y/n)?” He asked, keeping his hand in yours and swinging your arms back and forth.

“No, I don’t suppose I have,” you answered, “but I can’t wait.”

#fred wealsey fic #fred weasly x reader #george wealsey imagine #george x y/n #george weasley #george x reader #fred x y/n #fred weasley #george wealsey x reader #harry potter #hogwarts #fred and goerge weasley #weasley twins #requests anyone?#requests are open #requests open

114 notes · View notes

alderaani · 3 years ago

Text

more than gold

summary: A lost Jedi Temple, a riddle, some literature, and feelings that Cody isn't ready to speak out loud. | AO3

note: written for @codywanweek and the alt day 5 prompt Sith/Jedi Artefact Shenanigans! sliding in on the last day with one more thing written than expected, so i’m happy with that! i’m pretty ill today so i hope it actually makes some coherent sense 😂 also if the riddle was super obvious, soz, never written one before and turns out it’s really hard.

“You know, I could have sworn I told you not to touch that,” Cody says conversationally, from where he’s splayed out on his back.

“Really? I’m sure I didn’t hear you,” Obi-Wan says, cheerful despite being crumpled in a heap. His elbow is in Cody’s gut. Cody glares at him.

The room they’re lying in is circular, stone, carved out of some Forced-damned mountain and according to Obi-wan, practically thrumming with power. The ceiling is high and vaulted, letting in slivers of light where intricate mirror systems catch the sunlight of double suns and project it deep underground. It takes on a slightly blue cast, reflecting off the huge pool of water they were lucky to not fall into. Four walkways at each cardinal point lead to a central platform, and interspersed between them are four waterfalls.

It should be serene. Except now the waterfalls are travelling backwards, and all the doors, including the one they came in by, are blocked. Cody scrambles up onto his elbows, dislodging Obi-Wan with a grunt.

“What did you do?”

Obi-Wan follows his gaze and gasps, delighted. “Now, will you look at that?”

Cody is looking. Frankly, he doesn’t trust this place enough to not keep his eye on it at all times. Obi-Wan keeps saying that this temple was built long ago, by ancient, peaceful Jedi as a place of learning, and that it won’t hurt them. After they got cut off from the rest of their men at the entrance, however, Cody thinks he could be forgiven for having his doubts.

As Obi-Wan himself proves, peace-keeping hardly rules out danger.

“Amazing,” Obi-Wan breathes, hoisting himself to his feet without a second glance, to walk back up to the plinth and stalk round it, examining the incomprehensible runes engraved there.

Cody is left to peel himself off the floor, and instead goes to prod at the barriers now sealing the exits with the end of his blaster. He tries not to look too much at Obi-Wan, at the soft sweep of his hair and the span of his shoulders. Being on their own like this is something he’s avoided, of late - not because he doesn’t enjoy it, but because he’s starting to enjoy it all too much.

He doesn’t trust the way his heart leaps when Obi-Wan smiles, when he asks him to call him ‘Obi-Wan’, when the cycle draws on and they’re up late again, companionably finishing reports and debating strategy. Or, as they had been doing until Cody got cold feet and started finding excuses, debating novels, which Obi-Wan checked out of the Temple archives and read aloud, one chapter at a time, before they turned in for the night.

He doesn’t trust himself not to ruin this by overstepping. There’s something about his general that makes him lose all control of his tongue, and puts him in danger of voicing thoughts that really he should not be having at all.

It’s agony. It’s bliss. It’s stretching him to breaking point, and this is possibly the worst situation they could have ended up in, really.

“These are made out of water,” he says over his shoulder, grunting as he tries to push his blaster through. He is, of course, unsuccessful.

“Ingenious,” Obi-Wan says. “How did they manage that, I wonder?”

Cody cuts a glance back at him, and grins, despite his exasperation.

“You’re not more worried about how we’re going to get out?”

Obi-Wan waves a hand. “I’m sure the path will reveal itself, in time. Oh, look - Cody, I think this is a puzzle!”

Cody bites back a groan. They do not have time for this. They never really had time for it, but Obi-Wan promised it would be a brief detour on their way to the capital for hyperspace lane access negotiations. He’d looked so excited by recon reports of a lost temple that Cody just hadn’t been able to say no. He’s never able to say no to Obi-Wan, even when he isn’t following orders. It’s probably his fatal flaw.

“I don’t suppose there’s an off switch? A back button?” He asks hopelessly. The Force, at least the Jedi sort, very rarely seems to work that way. Obi-Wan is always talking about moving through problems, about seeking balance and adapting to what’s around you, rather than manipulating it. It’s not Cody’s favoured approach; he was trained to leverage his environment to its maximum advantage, and finds he has little patience for anything else.

Obi-Wan snorts. “This is a defensive mechanism, I’m afraid. Judging by the architecture this was built at the height of the Sith Wars. This artefact is designed to trap us here until we understand the mechanism and progress, or until, back when the temple was occupied, someone would come and deal with the intruder.”

“That doesn’t sound very peaceful,” Cody says.

Obi-Wan shoots him an amused look, the warm, soft kind that makes heat rise from the pit of Cody’s belly right up to his ears.

“Even a pacifist may defend himself,” he says, then leans over the pedestal. “Now, how about you stop grousing and come help me with this?”

Cody rolls his eyes, but goes, slinging his blaster across his back and crossing his arms.

“And stop looming,” Obi-Wan laughs, catching one of Cody’s gloved hands and pulling it down to rest at his side. The simple touch makes Cody’s cheeks burn.

“Don’t see what help I can give you, Sir,” he says, frowning down at the characters surrounding the bright blue artefact. “I was never any good at Ithorian.”

Obi-Wan pauses, then tilts his head up. “Ah. Is that what it is?”

“I - I think so?” Cody was never any good at his language flashtraining; he never had the proper patience for it, but he can usually figure out the basics.

“No, no,” Obi-Wan muses, stroking at his beard with his free hand. “You’re quite right. Goodness me, it's been a long time since I last saw this dialect. Let’s see now…”

Cody steps back and waits, keeping his attention firmly split between their blocked exit points while Obi-Wan ponders. The slow upward movement of the waterfalls is eerie - it still makes noise, but none of it is right. Instead of the gentle patter he expects of water joining a larger pool, there’s a faint gurgling as they move further into each grate, travelling somewhere he cannot see.

Obi-Wan finishes his fifth circle round the platform, and the hand at his chin goes still. Cody stands at attention, expectant.

“It’s a riddle,” Obi-Wan says, and if possible, his delight grows. “Yes - the language is coming back to me now. Do you know, I haven’t looked at Ithorian in maybe 12 years?”

“Sir?” Cody says, tilting his head to look at the characters more closely. He doesn’t have even a passing proficiency at modern Ithorian, and presumably it’s changed a bit over the millennia. His training was focused on the basics, and only the useful bits, at that. He thinks he can make out the words for ‘ water ’, and ‘ enemy’ , both of which are either unhelpfully descriptive or frankly discouraging, but that’s about the extent of it.

“My old master - he loved prophecies. When I was a teenager I could never see the point of it, but it meant I spent a lot of time learning the old Ithorian dialects. They’re known as the most peaceful species, did you know?” Obi-Wan shakes his head. “They’ll exile anyone violent, it’s quite remarkable, really. I suppose in some sort of idealistic emulation, a lot of the early Jedi texts are written in their dialect.”

His blue eyes are keen, his laser sharp focus firmly on the podium. It gives Cody a moment to observe his clever fingers, the long line of his neck, the open delight with which he tackles this new problem. It’s a rare thing, to see him so relaxed, and Cody can’t help the fond smile that creeps up on him despite the circumstances. This almost makes it worth it, and on reflection, he’d rather an ancient temple than the last thing that had made Obi-Wan so happy; a wretched, bioluminescent fungus, which had infected half the battalion and given them hives. Their general had studied it for weeks.

Obi-Wan’s lips quirk up. Cody barely trusts himself to speak.

“I didn’t know, Sir,” Cody croaks, then pauses, fishing for something normal to say. “Didn’t we have to defend the governor’s daughter from an Ithorian bounty hunter on Ganaris-IV?”

“Well,” Obi-Wan grins. “Those exiles have to go somewhere, don’t they?”

Cody huffs a laugh and reaches up to scratch his neck at the seam of his bucket.

“Let’s just hope they didn’t all come here. What’s this riddle, then?”

Obi-Wan shifts to the side, then points at a spot on the podium. “As I said, it’s been a long time, but I think it starts here, and goes something like:

A thing to be forged, where water is thicker,

Worth more than gold, unless it’s pyrite that glitters.

An enemy of my enemy, or in hard times, in need,

Sometimes fair-weather, or in high places indeed.

What are you, traveller? ”

All of Cody’s hopes that it would be something nice and obvious, like “lightsaber” or, given what’s going on around them, “gravity”, escape from him like smoke. Jedi and their metaphors. It’s not just a quirk of Obi-Wan’s, clearly.

“Does that mean anything to you, Sir?” he asks, turning the words over in his head once, twice, then frowning when nothing comes immediately.

Obi-Wan’s brow is also furrowed, but in a leisurely, meditative manner.

“...I have some ideas, I think,” he says. “How about you, my friend?”

What does he think? He thinks that there are other sorts of puzzles he is much better suited to. Word play and idioms...what does a clone have to offer that?

Still, Obi-Wan is watching him, expectant and gentle, and he sifts back through the lines, a little more seriously this time.

“Ice, maybe?”

Obi-Wan nods, slowly. “Perhaps. Walk me through it.”

Cody swallows. “Ice is something that can be made, right? It’s not exactly forged, but…”

He trails off in uncertainty.

“Go on,” Obi-Wan says with another one of those soft, devastating smiles. It fractures all the thoughts in Cody’s head, and he has to stop, clear his throat and gather up all the pieces.

“I suppose...it’s just thicker water, isn’t it? On warm planets it’s a valuable commodity, it’s found in high places, and I suppose if you wanted snow, a freeze would be fair weather.”

Obi-Wan is rubbing his beard again, and he’s still smiling. “Fascinating. I would never have thought of that...only, I don’t think it’s quite there. That mention of pyrite is troublesome, and the ‘enemy of my enemy’, where does that fit in?”

Cody shrugs his shoulders, frustrated, and feels a hot flush creep up his neck. “Don’t know why you’re asking me, to be honest, Sir. Kamino hardly covered poetry.”

There’s a slight pause, then Obi-Wan’s hand is on his again, tugging it slowly down from where he’s crossed his arms.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” he says, soft.

“Do what?” Cody’s voice is gruff.

“Dismiss yourself. You do it sometimes when we’re reading together. There is often no right and wrong answer to these things, no secret. There is only perspective, and you see things I never would, if only you would trust yourself.”

Cody looks down and away, back towards the waterfalls and their slow, glacial climb. He isn’t sure that’s true. He enjoys what Obi-Wan shares with him, what other lives he gets to touch in their books, but more than anything they convince him that, beyond war, he knows very little of anything at all. He would like to, someday.

His eyes land on Obi-Wan’s lips briefly, before he tears them away. Particular experiences he would like to know more than others.

There was one book that Obi-Wan had read early on, back when this infatuation was just setting its first tendrils into him, about a forbidden romance at the heart of the old Mandalorian court. Two heirs of rival clans battling to be together against the good approval of their noble relatives. It had been torrid, ridiculous and entirely unexpected when Obi-Wan had suggested they break up their reports with some literature.

But what it had done was give him the words to express the crawling heat in his stomach, the urge he has to reach out, to touch, to soothe, to care for. He’d known what he wanted before that, of course, in a more rudimentary manner, but it had gifted him the language of yearning.

Suddenly, a particular passage springs into his mind and he straightens.

“You don’t think it could mean ally, do you? In Beneath the Armour, Mata threatens Clan Riza by saying he has ‘allies in high places’.”

Obi-Wan pauses, and then a brilliant smile spreads over his face. “Yes, that’s it! Pyrite - Fool’s Gold; a false friend! Brilliant Cody, whatever made you think of that?”

Cody grins, even though Obi-Wan can’t see it, and doesn’t answer.

“Is that really it?”

“I think you’re very close,” Obi-Wan says. “The characters engraved into the platform...yes! Stand close to me, Commander.”

Cody does, watching curiously as Obi-Wan lifts his hands, shuts his eyes, frowns, and pushes . Six blocks that make up the platform lift, the characters on each glowing bright, lurid blue. Under their feet, something scrapes, shifts and clunks, before the platform lurches upwards, spinning gently.

There’s a thunderous gurgling sound, before all of the pool beneath drains away.

“The answer,” Obi-Wan says, slightly breathless, his hair a little out of place. “Was friend.”

“The doorways are still blocked,” Cody notes drily. The plinth with the blue orb that started this whole mess has also risen, and underneath it are a set of very wet, slimy looking steps. “I don’t suppose it’s as simple as just walking down these and getting in?”

“Likely not,” Obi-Wan agrees, then inexplicably shifts a little closer, so that they are sharing space. Cody’s heart skips a beat. “But it’s like I told you, Cody. You are far greater than what you have been given.”

Cody coughs and looks at his feet, at their boots almost toe to toe, pleasure at the praise singing low through his body.

“Now,” Obi-Wan says, too close and not close enough. “How do you feel about another puzzle?”

Cody groans, laughing, and after a moment, follows his General into the dark.

#codywanweek2021 #codywan #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #alderwrites #i would tag this jedi culture but i literally pulled this out of my ass #there is absolutely no basis in canon here #only vibes #the clone wars #star wars #codywan week 2021

126 notes · View notes

ncssian · 4 years ago

Text

A Favor: Part Twelve

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: this took so long bc ive been reading chain of iron and in general agonizing over things i cant control instead of being productive 🥴 that being said, absolutely none of the events in this chapter were planned in my outline, but here we are with something new!

***

December brings more snow and bone chilling weather, to the point where Cassian has to drag Nesta out of bed, either physically or by phone call, to get her to therapy appointments on time.

She’s in the waiting room one freezing morning when, in her utter boredom, she musters up the nerve to turn to the girl sitting next to her. “What are you in here for?”

The girl blinks her large blue eyes, taking notice of Nesta for the first time. Nesta uses the opportunity to take in her freckle-painted face, a little wan but beautiful. Reddish brown hair hangs around her face and shoulders, creating a thick curtain from the rest of the world, and Nesta’s curiosity piques like she’s just found a shiny new toy.

It probably isn’t right to compare people to toys, but then the girl says, “This isn’t prison, you know.” Her voice is deep, almost sultry— completely at odds from her huddled-in posture and sickened expression. “I didn’t commit a crime to have to be here.”

Is she insulted by Nesta’s question, or is she poking a joke? Nesta decides to play it safe by murmuring, “Sorry, never mind.”

She starts to turn away when the girl says, “We’re trying a new type of trauma therapy today. I had to get here half an hour early because I couldn’t swallow my nerves.”

Nesta might lack many social skills, but she isn’t stupid enough to ask what kind of trauma the girl is being treated for. Instead, she nods casually as if she understands the struggle. “I’ve been coming here for weeks now and I’ve barely discussed shit. That’s mostly on me, but you know…” She actually doesn’t know where she’s going with her train of thought. “It sounds brave to do whatever you're doing,” she states finally. “I don’t think I’ll be able to open up that much about myself, ever.”

The girl gives Nesta a weird look that she immediately recognizes. Nesta uses it every time she doesn’t know how to respond to someone who takes her by surprise.

The door to Lana’s office clicks open, and the woman herself pokes her head out with a plain smile. “Ready, Nesta?”

Nesta bites down on her frown. She has a feeling today won’t be as easy as her past sessions.

She’s about to leave without another glance at the girl beside her when that low voice speaks up. “I’m Gwyn.”

Nesta looks back at her as she gets up from her chair, and says the first reply that comes to mind: “Good to know.”

***

Nesta is contemplative hours after she gets back from her therapy session, bundled up in her bed with a coloring book. The repetitive motion of filling in the mandala drawing lets her mind wander, picking up and dropping different thoughts like she’s inspecting stones.

She keeps her wrist light as she colors in with red. She finally said Tomas’s name in therapy today, though the action left a slimy feeling in Nesta’s stomach that lingers even now. She also spoke about her sisters, which somehow ended up leading to a discussion of her uterus.

“How have you been dealing with the endometriosis news?”

Nesta shrugged. “I’m getting treated, and my last period was more bearable than usual—”

“I mean mentally, how are you doing? With how your condition could affect your future?”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Affect me how?”

“Have you never considered the impact it could have on your ability to bear children?”

“Not everything in life is about bearing children, you know.”

“We’re humans. It’s definitely something to consider.”

“Not for me. I’ve never wanted kids.” A mistruth at best. “I don’t care what endo does or doesn’t do to me on those grounds.”

In a way, Nesta told herself, the health risks were actually for the best. If she ever did, by some stupid loss of sanity, try to have children, then her body would act as a safety net from her decisions.

Lana only said, “You’ll never know how much you care or don’t care until you talk out your feelings.”

“Then I guess we’ll never know.”

Nesta lets the memory of that conversation drop like a stone on a shore. That’s not something she has to face for a good long while. No, right now she has to face her past.

Her sisters, and her ex, and even her father—

I wonder if I came off too strong with Gwyn today.

Her hand stops drawing, and she switches out her red marker for an orange one. This thought she doesn’t mind inspecting for a little longer: she and Gwyn ended up leaving their sessions at the same time, which meant they were forced into stilted conversation on the way down to the parking lot.

Not forced, Nesta self-corrects. She willingly initiated a conversation, and it didn’t go terribly. She wonders if making friends in therapy waiting rooms is a real thing.

Her phone vibrates beside her, breaking her hours-long mental bubble. Blinking dazedly, she answers the phone call.

“How are you?” is the first thing Cassian says to her. He makes sure to ask her that at least twice a day, like a gauging of her temperature. It makes Nesta wonder what she’s ever done in her life to call for such… attention to her well-being.

“I’m good,” she answers honestly. “My head’s a little loud right now, but I don’t mind it.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No, I’d rather hear you talk.” She slumps back against her pillows, coloring book forgotten. “What’s up?”

“Ah...” Cassian sounds hesitant for the first time since their relationship started. “It’s just that I haven’t gotten my Christmas decorations up yet, and I was going to ask if you wanted to help.”

Nesta takes a moment to absorb his words. “It’s December fifth,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“You just seem like somebody who does their decorations the day after Thanksgiving.”

“Well, this year is a little different, with you moving out and being busy with school…” He pauses. “I was waiting to do it with you.”

When she doesn’t reply, Cassian adds, “I don’t even know if you care about Christmas. I know you and your family sort of ignored holidays. It’s fine if you don’t want to—”

“I’ll be over right now,” Nesta blurts.��

Half an hour later, Cassian swings open his door with a smug grin on his face; a vast difference from the stammering hesitance he displayed over the phone earlier. Nesta’s own lips want to pull up into a smile just at the sight of him, but she holds back and narrows her eyes instead. “What’s got you so worked up?” she questions as she steps into the warmth of the cabin and out of the freezing cold.

“The way you ran over here as soon as I asked.” He looks her up and down, still amused. “You didn’t even bother to change, did you?”

It’s true: she’s in the same sweatpants and long sleeved tee she wore around home, and her socked feet are shoved into slippers.

“Get that smirk off your face.” Nesta flicks his nose before tossing her coat off. “If this is a competition about who’s got a bigger puppy-crush for whom, you already won when you delayed putting up your Christmas decorations for me.”

“Fair enough,” he grins. The words send an unexpected pang through Nesta, because it’s partly true, isn’t it? He cares more openly for her than she does for him.

She looks away in guilt, not knowing how to fix the imbalance. Her eyes land on the living room coffee table, where their half-finished jigsaw puzzle sits. It’s been stored under the couch for the past few weeks, forgotten by Nesta and Cassian alike as they moved on with their lives, but now it’s sitting out again.

“Have you been working on the puzzle without me?” She raises an inquisitive brow, about to feel— hurt.

“Never,” Cassian promises, saving her from that irrational hurt. “I just brought it out because I figured we should get to finishing it one day.”

She pads over to the table, picking up a puzzle piece and turning it over in her hand. “I don’t know if you remember, but we had a terrible time working on this,” she scoffs lightly.

“Oh, I remember,” he says, coming up behind her and stealing the piece from her grasp. “I think it’s safe to say those evenings were the worst fights we’ll ever have together.”

Nesta leans back against Cassian’s chest and hums. “It made us a stronger couple, don’t you think?” She turns her head up and back to meet Cassian’s eyes, finding that he’s already looking down at her.

Hypnotized, she leans into his warmth. She only manages to land the smallest kiss against his lips when his hand squeezes her ass cheek. “You’re here for a job, remember?” He taps her butt before pulling away, gesturing to the Christmas tree in the corner of the living area with his chin. It stands bare. “You do tinsel, I’ll do lights.”

Tinsel is harder to work with than Nesta remembers. She only manages to get half the tree done before plopping onto the Persian rug, exhausted and covered in silvery material. She doesn’t mind laying there while Cassian continues working; it’s her revenge for when he napped on her bed while she moved in.

“You know the stair railings still need to be wreathed, Archeron.”

Nesta declines to respond, tilting her head on the carpet for a better view of her boyfriend’s ass instead. “All this decorating,” she starts. “Is it just for you?”

Cassian turns to her, surprised. “Well…”

She pushes up onto her elbows, catching her mistake. “Are we doing Christmas together? Or are your friends coming over?” She hasn’t bothered to celebrate Christmas in years now, and she doesn’t care much what Cassian’s plans are either way.

“I was hoping for both?” He sounds hesitant. “Christmas Eve is all the way over in Velaris, but I was thinking we could go together, open some presents, and come back and spend Christmas here.”

Nesta purses her lips. She doesn’t actually hate that plan. Both Feyre and Elain have been pestering her with the annual texts asking her to visit for Christmas, and for once, she feels like responding to them. The invitation is more of a formality than an actual request at this point; she doubts her sisters want her there after years of rejections, but… what’s the harm?

“Is that a yes?” Cassian asks at her unreadable face.

“Yes,” she states unflinchingly. She refuses to overthink the possible consequences of this choice and chooses to focus on the broad grin overtaking Cassian’s face. “Really?” he says.

“But there has to be rules.” Nesta sits up fully now. “No one can know we’re together, no matter how much you trust or love them.”

“We already agreed to that, baby.”

Yes, but Nesta knows the secret weighs on him heavier than he shows— even if he agrees with her that it's for the best. “It’ll be different when we’re together in the same room as everyone else,” she says. Cassian wears his beating heart on his sleeve, and she doesn’t think he’s ever had to hide it before.

“You’ll also be different,” she adds. “It’s a huge change of pace.”

Cassian drops the remaining strand of lights and smiles confusedly down at her. “What do you mean, I’ll be different?” He sits across from her, before the blazing fire.

“You know how you get around your friends.” Nesta shrugs without a thought. “Like your personality readjusts to mirror the people around you. I used to find it a mix of sad and adorable, like a neglected puppy desperate for love, but now I— okay, I still feel the same way.” She waves a hand in a dismissive gesture.

By the look on Cassian’s face, he does not find her words so easily dismissed.

Coldness curdles in the pit of Nesta’s stomach, the realization that she’s said something wrong. She can’t fix it until she knows where she fucked up, though.

“Is that what you think of me?” Cassian finally says lowly. His usually expressive mouth is drawn tight and narrow.

“Um… What would you rather I think of you?”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “Seriously, Nesta?”

Nesta’s back stiffens, refusing to cower. “I only described what I’ve observed in the past.”

“And what you observed was a desperate puppy?” His voice is cold in a way she’s never heard before.

Okay, she’s starting to see how that might be offensive. She forges onward, “Tell me what you think about yourself in the presence of your family, then.” It’s a private victory that she says family instead of clown circus. But she’s not trying to turn this into a fight.

Cassian is silent, but his stare continues to rage at her.

“Tell me,” Nesta repeats.

His hands curl into fists on the rug. “I think I’m empathetic, easy to talk to, and easier to be around. Is it a problem if I’m likable?” Unlike you are the unsaid words.

Nesta inspects the space between them like it’s a chessboard. “And what part of yourself are you giving up to be so likable, Cassian?” she says quietly.

“Nothing.”

Nesta disagrees, if only because she’s been watching him out of the corner of her eye for years. “I think you base your personality off of those you love, and you lose a little bit of your true self every time you put others’ needs before your own.”

She shuts her mouth, not having expected such honesty to come out of it. Cassian is taken aback, too, she can tell.

“And I guess it’s natural that you’d see all of that as a bad thing, considering your history of being closed off and self-serving to a fault,” he fires back with the flatness Nesta utilizes so often.

One for one. Fair enough. “We’re both right then,” Nesta says. “You work for your best friend because you have no ambition beyond serving your family, and I have no such family because I can’t bring myself to care about those things. Are we even now?”

Cassian furrows his brows, those defensive walls melting away as he realizes she’s completely serious. “What? No, Nes—” He shakes his head. “Okay, so maybe you’re right about me. Maybe I agree with you a little bit, but… If we see flaws in each other, then we should be working to overcome them instead of weaponizing them.”

Now Nesta’s the one shaking her head, quickly lifting a hand to stop him. “Relax there, sweetheart. I have no expectations from you or myself to go on some self-improvement journey now that we’re together. Talking about my feelings with a professional every week is hard enough.” Yes, agreeing to go to Feyre’s Christmas party is improvement. Slow, barely there improvement, but enough to wear her out for the rest of the month. For Nesta to fully let people into her life, to treat them as lovingly as she treats Cassian— that’s a long way away. She can’t envision it, doesn’t even know if she wants it.

Cassian must understand some of what she’s thinking, because he nods and backs off. He gets back up and returns to stringing lights, tossing a handful of tinsel at Nesta as if to say Get back to work.

She stands and obeys, thinking their not-argument is officially over when Cassian says, “You’re wrong about one thing.”

She looks up from where she threads tinsel through fir leaves. He doesn’t take his eyes off his work as he says, “You do have a family. And deep, deep down, you care about them as much as I care about mine.”

***

Nesta catches Emerie’s eye as the dark-haired beauty walks into the pub. Raising a hand and waving, she gestures Emerie over to the booth she’s sitting in.

“Look what I found,” Nesta says with a hint of pride, pointing to the redhead sitting beside her. “A third girl for girl’s night!”

“I was kidnapped,” Gwyn speaks up. “Jumped on the way to my car.” She’s out of her usual hoodie and in a tight-fitting blouse, looking stunning even while seeming out of place in the dim bar.

“She came here consensually,” Nesta retorts. “Emerie, this is Gwyn. We met at therapy.”

Gwyn offers Emerie an awkward smile.

Emerie slides into the booth across from them with raised brows. She looks between Nesta and the new girl and back again. “You invited her here? All by yourself?” she asks.

Nesta nods firmly.

Emerie breaks into a wide grin and reaches over the table to grab Nesta’s hand. “I’m so proud of you!” If Emerie were anyone else, she’d be squealing in excitement, but Emerie does not squeal.

Nesta waves off her friend’s praise, though a part of her wants to beam at it, too.

Gwyn glances between the two of them with slight amusement. “I mean, it’s not that impressive,” she says. “She came on a bit too strong, probably a five out of ten on the asking-someone-out scale.”

“‘A bit too strong’ is all you’re gonna get with Nesta,” Emerie says, lifting her hand to order drinks. “She’s all-or-nothing, and most people would pray she doesn’t give them her nothing.”

Nesta doesn’t know if that’s a compliment, but she supposes there are worse things that could be said about her.

“So, Gwyn, what do you do?” Emerie leans forward. “All our friends are law students and it’s starting to get boring.”

Gwyn goes off about her librarian job as Nesta orders their drinks, and Emerie rests her chin in her hand and listens eagerly. Christmas music plays softly in the background and snow flurries gently outside. Nesta thinks she can’t be doing that bad in life, if she’s managed to carve out this little slice of happiness for herself.

***

a/n: i promise shit actually happens next chapter! we're getting christmas with nessian and the ic in the same room for the first time

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #ncssianwrites #a favor #nessian fic

190 notes · View notes

page-doctor-bekker · 3 years ago

Text

Exposé - msbp!au

(A/N) So this is like, an exposition I guess. It’s necessary for the rest of the story. Ginormous trigger warning for allusions to child abuse, gaslighting + manipulation.

Sarah's vision blurred, as she faded in and out of consciousness. The pain is intense, and she feels like she might die. This isn't survivable. The worst of the pain hits her all at once, and she lets out a blood-curdling scream into her gag. After that pain, nothing.

"Oh Sarie, I have some bad news," His voice cut through the pain, like a scalpel in her lower back, "You're going to be in a wheelchair for the rest of your life..."

"Good morning Sarie," Sarah's dad sung, turning on the overhead lights as he walked into her room. He was holding a medium-sized pink bin, lined with a sterile sheet to create a sterile field, with a few syringes and medications, as well as sterile gloves, alcohol swabs, and a few other supplies. Sarah was scared awake, letting out a short groan. Her dad pulled a chair up, before pulling on a pair of gloves and disconnecting Sarah's PICC line from her overnight infusion.

He opened up a 10mL saline flush, screwed it onto the end of her line, and slowly pushed the plunger, drained the syringe into the line. Next, he pulled out another syringe, this time a 3mL syringe, half-full with clear liquid. He connected the syringe to the line, and administered the medication. She almost instantaneously felt calmer and sedated, as the Ativan coursed through her system. He proceeded to flush the line with more saline, then a syringe of Heparin. After that flush, he finished off the line by screwing on a swab cap. He tucked the line under the PICC cover, and pulled off and disposed of his gloves. Lastly, he helped Sarah sit up, and guided a small cup of pills into her shaky hand. He gave her a water cup with a straw, and helped her take her pills.

Sarah's dad moved her wheelchair closer to the bed and locked the wheels. He gently took the blankets off of her body, and threaded his left arm under her knees, and his right arm under her armpits around her body. He lifted her into her wheelchair, and buckled up her seatbelt. He hummed to her as he put her minimalist neck brace on to keep her head from flopping forward. The brace had a strap around the back of her neck, with two hard plastic pieces at the sides of her neck. The top of those plastic pieces split off onto a chin pad to hold her chin in place, and the bottoms of the plastic pieces split off into two rods that joined in a v-shape at her sternum.

Sarah’s dad turned off her overnight oxygen concentrator, and started peeling the cannula tape off of her prominent cheekbones. Sarah coughed a few times as the oxygen stopped.

“Today is tube change day,” Her dad announced, and Sarah was wheeled into the kitchen where she was sat at the table. Her dad started rummaging through the formula cabinet, "Do you want something to eat before we leave for the hospital?"

Sarah was quiet for a moment, trying to process those words through her Ativan-jumbled brain, "...Yes..." She finally decided, speaking slowly, "Can... I have... a..." She paused, thinking of what she wanted, "Cereal..."

"Yes," Sarah's dad confirmed, moving to fix her a bowl of cereal. A few quiet, zoned-out minutes later she was presented with a bowl of fruit loops. Her dad fitted the rings of her adaptive spoon onto her pointer finger and her thumb, and she started to spoon her cereal into her mouth. Her dad sat down to supervise as always, to make sure she didn't aspirate.

He multi-tasked, filling her feed bag with four cartons of formula and 8 ounces of Miralax mixed into water. He closed up the bag, and fitted the tubing into the Infinity pump. He flipped the bag upside down, and pushed the button to prime the tube. Once formula started dripping out of the end of the tube, he stopped.

Sarah's dad lifted her shirt, gently pulled the split gauze off from around her tube, and cleaned the area, "Today we have..." He grabbed the small fabric circle from the table, "Purple and pink stripes!" He fitted the tubie pad around her tube and clipped it together, and let her shirt fall.

Sarah finished her cereal, and watched as her dad tucked the bag of formula and the pump into one of Sarah’s various backpacks, and hung it on the back of her wheelchair. This particular backpack was a pale pink, with a panda on the front. On the lower right side of the backpack there was a plastic port where the tubing came out of. On the right side of Sarah’s wheelchair, between the back of the chair and the armrest was a velcro strap that held the tube out of the way of the wheel. He left her for a moment, grabbing an ice pack to tuck into the bag with the formula.

Sarah watched him, puzzled and confused, “Why aren’t you starting feeds?”

“Yes, we are going to the hospital today, you are due to have your tube replaced,” He started a sterile field, and started to draw up the day’s medications, five IV syringes and one G-tube syringe. He capped the syringes and tossed them into a plastic bag. He put her nighttime pills into a small pill container, and put it in the bag as well, “Just in case we aren’t home in time,” He put the bag into her backpack, “

Sarah started coughing a dry, rough cough. Her dad rubbed her back with one hand, and reaching over onto the table for her portable oxygen concentrator. He tucked the cannula into her nose and turned it on. She started to breathe easier, and her dad smiled.

Once she started to feel better, he spoke up, “I need to stop the machine so I can put this in your backpack and organize the tubing, okay?”

She nodded, and he turned the machine off and unplugged the tubing from the machine. Working quickly, he looped the excess tubing up and secured it with a tubie clip that he clipped to her shirt. He fed the tubing through the the velcro port in the back of her wheelchair, then through the port in her backpack. The oxygen concentrator went into the backpack, and he turned in back on once it was set up.

Once she was all set up, her dad looked at his watch, “I think it’s time to get this show on the road!”

Sarah nodded, and leaned against her headrest while her dad pushed her through the house, then out the door.

Sarah dozed all the way to the hospital, barely lucid enough to realize when she was being taken out of the car, and into the hospital.

“Let’s take a look at the ol’ g-tube then, ready?” Sarah was woken from her daze by the doctor, a brunette woman that Sarah had seen multiple times before, Dr. Manning.

Sarah nodded at the doctor, leaning back and lifting her shirt up to the underwire of her bra, exposing the tube.

“Mind if I give her her 11:00 meds?” Her dad inquired, looking at his watch. The doctor nodded and Sarah’s dad stole a pair of gloves from the wall and started fiddling with her PICC line. He pushed her morphine first, which immediately started to chill her out even more than the Ativan. The next medication was Benadryl, which was followed by saline and Heparin.

As the Benadryl kicked in, Sarah dozed off just in time for Dr. Manning to pull the tube out for the change.

An indiscernable amount of time later, Sarah woke up in a hospital bed, a different room from the procedure room she had been in before.

“Sarah?” Her dad whispered, looking up from his phone. Sarah made a noise in the back of her throat, feeling a thin tube down her throat, and rubbed her eyes, before looking at her dad.

“Dad?” She croaked, “Where... Why are we here? Why do I have a nose tube?”

“You have an infection,” He explained, scooting closer to her bed and grabbing her right hand, “In your tube. They want to keep you here because of your immunodeficiency, they want to be a little more aggressive this ti-”

There was a knock at the door, and a doctor and a nurse walked in. They both helped themselves to some hand sanitizer off of the wall, and greeted her dad. Sarah settled back down, staying quiet.

“Whenever ANYONE in the hospital comes to talk to us, you stay QUIET. Do you hear me? Sarah, look at me. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? You are to remain absolutely silent. Do not tell them anything, you don’t understand what you’re talking about anyways. I’m the only one that can advocate for you. You’re only going to make things worse.”

“Do you have any idea how this infection might have started? Any other signs of illness, maybe another infection that spread? Have you travelled recently?”

“No, none of that.”

“And you’re always touching the tube with clean hands, cleaning it twice a day, using clean gauze, clean supplies, bathing often?”

“Yes, very clean. I’m very careful. She’s immunocompromised, and I would never do anything that could put her in danger.”

Sarah’s stomach churned. No, not clean.

“And you’re the only one who handles her tube? Is mom involved? Home healthcare nurses, babysitters?”

“Nope, it’s just me,” Sarah’s dad laughed, “Her mother took off, left me in the dust. No help I ever see! And I don’t let anyone else handle her tube.”

“Well, I think we’re going to go in for endoscopy to see what’s going on inside, see if the infection is in her stomach as well, maybe bacterial gastroenteritis, ulcers, buried bumper syndrome. We’ll see what we can find and take some more cultures.”

“Dirty tube...”

Sarah’s dad looked at her with a wrath hotter than a thousands suns, and then chuckled at the doctors, “Sorry, she just woke up. Sometimes she echoes what she hears from others, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“My tube is dirty,” She asserted groggily.

“Sweetheart, they just cleaned it an hour ago, it’s not dirty,” Sarah’s dad reassured, squeezing her hand. She sighed, and laid back.

The doctor left, and Sarah’s dad dropped her hand aggressively, “What do you think you’re doing?” He hissed, “They will take you away from me and hurt you. Is that what you want?”

Sarah shook her head.

“You will die without me. Do you understand? I do everything for you. I care for you, I do everything with no help. God forbid I make mistakes. God forbid I forget things sometimes.”

She looked away.

He grabbed the tube and pulled her to face him, which yanked the tape off of her cheek. She coughed as the tubing shifted in her throat.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” He scowled at her, before putting on a worried face, “Nurse!” He flagged down a nurse walking by their door, “She pulled the tape off. Poor thing, she doesn’t understand.”

(A/N) anyways sorry ava wasn’t in this one, i just needed to set the scene lol. hope you enjoyed!

#msbp!au #child abuse tw #abuse tw #reesker #well it will be at some point #sarah reese #robert haywood #chicago med #chicago med au #reesker au #crockettstiddies

19 notes · View notes

sad-baddie001 · 4 years ago

Text

Allmight: Symbol of peace

Yn POV

^quirk: Agility, Super human agility and senses.

*beep* beep* beep*

I rolled out of bed and stood up stretching as much as possible before dropping to the floor in a sitting position. I spent a while meditating before I got up to make my coffee. I turned the radio and coffee maker on as I began to go about getting ready for my day.

I teach pre-K students and they are the little joys of my life. My entire life revolves around teaching them, they mean everything to me. I've been teaching pre-K for almost 6 years now and it's truly what makes me happy. I packed up everything I needed for class today and scanned myself over. I wore my black leggings with my knitted brown sweater and low tops. I grabbed my bags and headed toward the door. I locked up and made my way to work.

The crisp fall air hit my face as I opened the door to leave out. "Woah—nope." I closed the door and ran back inside to grab my coat. I put it on along with my scarf before actually starting my journey. I began my walk as I listed to the crunchy fall leaves as I stepped on them. The Autumn season always made me happy even as a child. There has always been something about she cool crisp atmosphere that caught my interest.

As I reached the school I walked into class and began to set up for my class. I cleaned the desk and plugged in my water heater. The classroom was already toasty as I began to place the kids mugs on their desk. I took out my laptop and began to play music at a low volume. I checked my watch as I began to make my specialty hot chocolate for my class. I finished just in time as my children began to filter into the classroom.

"Good morning Ms. YN!" I turned my head to the door to see the smiling beautiful faces of my class begin to rush in. A huge smile spread across my face as they lined up one by one in front of me. "Good morning my lovely students!" I hugged the man each one by one before they headed to assigned seats. They sat smiling wide, staring at their cups. We made them as an arts and crafts project and they absolutely love them.

With my entire class in attendance the morning bell rang. I took another sip of my hot chocolate before standing up and addressing my class. "Okay kids, today we are going to have a very special visitor." They began to whisper among themselves. "Okay, okay, quiet down. Would anyone like to take a gue—." I knock on the door cut me short. All headed turned to the closed door as the children were literally sitting on the edge of their seat. I couldn't make them wait any longer, they would just be cruel. "Come in." I said as I eyeballed the expressions on the kids faces. The door creaked opened slowly as a tall figures ducked into the door way.

Almight pov

"Come in." I heard a delicate voice through the door. I slowly pushed the door open and crouched down through the door way stepping into the classroom. Immediately I saw the entire class full of children jump from their seats as little feet scurried toward me. I closed my eyes and braced for impact. When I noticed I wasn't covered in pre schoolers I opened my eyes to see the students all back in their seats perfectly and the teacher now in the back of the classroom. "Now class, how do we greet our guest?" Her soft voice rang through the classroom before the students responded.

"Good morning Almight! Welcome to our classroom!" Their small voice spoke in unison as they were barely able to stay in their seats. I was at a loss for words. I have never seen children so young and so well behaved. "Good morning children! And good morning to you Ms...?" I trailed off as I looked over to the teacher awaiting her name. "Ms. Yn" A smile played upon her lips as she responded. Her smile was bright and welcoming. "Good morning Ms.Yn." I said completing my sentence.

"It smells amazing in here, may I ask what you all are drinking?"

"Ooh! Ooh!" A student raised his hand drawing my attention toward him. "Yes young man?" I asked as I called on him.

"Well Ms. makes us specialty hot chocolate sometimes to keep us nice and toasty."

"It smells delicious."

" Actually Almight ive made you some as well. No one in the class is left out ever. Here you go." She said as she handed me a hand painted mug with my head on it as a cartoon drawing. I felt my face flush pink as I thanked her. I took the tiny mug from her hands as we made brief eye contact. "How about we all take our first morning sip together?" She asked.

"That sounds like a great idea." I held the cup to my lips as the class did the same. I took a sip and felt a sense of comfort. This was the best hot chocolate I've ever had. It was sweet and the perfect temperature but there was something about this hot chocolate that didn't taste like normal hot chocolate. Some more. It taste amazing. My eyes dropped down into the mug trying to figure out what was giving off this amazing flavor.

"T-this hot chocolate...... IS PLUS ULTRA!"

Yn POV

I felt my face heat up as I took another sip of my hot chocolate. I love when people enjoy my

hot chocolate. The class giggled as did I seeing the hot coco mustache on Almight's face. "Almight, you've got a hot coco mustache." He let out a loud hearty laugh before speaking. "Well it just shows how delicious your hot chocolate is." I sat my mug down and handed the symbol of peace a napkin. He wiped his face as I leaned against my desk, addressing my class.

"Today the symbol of peace will be helping us our with class so let's be on our best behavior. Who knows, maybe if we behave he'll come back another time." The class went crazy with excitement at the thought of almight being in their class not once but twice.

We started the day out with some songs and and math before moving into reading. Next it was time for gym. Without me having to ask Almight got the students to line up single file and follow him to the gym. He strutted down the hall heroically as the class copied his walk. It was amazing I just had to take a picture. When we got to the gym the kids did their warm up stretches before they had free play. Almight played with the kids as I planned out the lesson plan for the rest of the week. The children stacked were in a cheerleading pyramid as Almight pretended to be their coach. Something felt off as I looked up over toward the children. I jumped up as I saw all the children about to topple over. I quickly dashed over to the children and began to catch them placing them down one by one in a safe spot. I wiped the sweat off my my forehead as I was now back in my original spot. I looked up to see Almight looking over at my with his mouth slightly gaped open. I gave him a soft smile as I went back to lesson planning.

After gym it was time for lunch. I took the children to the cafeteria and returned back to the classroom to see Almight sitting at my desk with two wrapped boxes. He placed his phone down before speaking.

"Ms. Yn, have lunch with me? It's the least I can do since you made me some of your delicious hot chocolate this morning." I tried to dial back my smile as I blushed. "I'd love to but I'm not sure that's such a good idea." I looked away for a moment trying to avoid his gaze.

"Oh?" He asked as his tone dropped slightly."Well how about you tell me about it. It'll just be two people having a conversation." I hesitated before nodding my head in agreement and walking over. He stood and pulled out my desk chair. "No it's fine, I'll sit here." I sat atop my desk with my legs crossed. Almight began to unwrap one of the boxes as he spoke.

"I'm listening."

"Well what would the kids think? Ya know? I usually get my lunch and go eat with them."

"I'm sure they wouldn't mind you having lunch without them today." He said as he unwrapped the box completely as opened it up. Amazing smells radiated from the bento box as I saw the marvelous food.

"So I saw in the gym earlier. Can you tell me a bit about your quirk?" He asked as he leaned on the desk slightly, giving me his full attention.

"Sure, so my quirks name is agility. I'm basically very agile with increased senses. So what you saw earlier in the gym was just me doing normal people things at an accelerated speed. But it wasn't an easy quirk to improve upon. It took countless hours of gymnastics and speed training and LOTS of combat training—." I felt something press against my leg slightly. As I looked down I saw Almight pushing the unwrapped box off food toward me. He flashed his heroic smile at me.

"You're not going to give up, are you?" He didn't respond, he only continued to smile at me. I hopped up from the desk and walked behind it. I went into my bag that was next to Almight and pulled out the bento box I had packed for the day. I held in front of me before speaking. "I'll eat, but only if you eat what I brought. But this is NOT lunch, this is just two people talking and eating."

"Okay, let's trade." I handed him the bento box in my hands and sat back down. I watched as he opened the bento box and immediately took a bite. The atmosphere around seemed to have shifted as he placed his hand over his heart.

"This is......the best cooking I've ever had." My entire face turned a bright red as I immediately looked everywhere else in the room.

"Please, you're too kind. It's just something I threw together."

"Oh please Ms.Yn, you're being too modest. How do you do it? Family recipes?"

My face went flush even more as I looked down at the floor. "Actually I just put a little love into everything I make."

"Well it's absolutely amazing." I looked back up at him and he was blushing just as hard as I was with the same cheesy smile. We continued to talk as we enjoyed each others food. His food tasted just as amazing as it smelled. I felt like I was in heaven. Before long it was time to start class again and the students began to return.

Almight POV

My phone began to ring as the students filed into the the classroom.

"One moment, I have to take this." I stepped out of the classroom and answered the call, it was Nezu calling.

"Hello?"

"Ah! Almight! So nice to hear from you. Midnight has gathered all the faculty in my office and she told us that there has been someone to peak your interest. You must come back and tell us all about it over tea."

"Well actually sir I—."

"See you soon." I let out a deep sight as he hung up the phone before I had time to respond. Note to self: don't call Midnight—even when no one else answers the phone.

I walked back into the classroom and walked over to Ms.Yn. She looked up at me and I almost wasn't able to tell her soft beautiful face.

"Duty calls." She nodded as she understood what I meant.

"Well can I get a picture of you with my class?"

"Of course."

"Duty calls young heros! How about we all get a photo before I leave."

The class all ran over to the back of the classroom as Ms.Yn pulled out her phone. The children crowded around me as she raised the phone.

"Now what kind of picture would this be if you're not in it?" I placed my arm around her torso and pulled her into my side.

"Okay let me set up the camera." She said as she bolted to her desk and propped up her phone. She put the timer on and ran back over. I pulled her back into my side as I balanced children on my shoulders and one atop my head.

"Everyone say PLUS ULTRA!" She wrapped her hands around me the best she could, I looked down to her blushing and smiling face as she posed for the picture. I couldn't help but think to my self how beautiful this woman is.

"PLUS ULTRA!!!"

*click*

She jumped over the children and over to her desk. I grabbed the bento box she had given me and walked over to her. I looked down at the picture she was smiling so widely at and noticed the pink shade that dusted me face. Hopefully no one else will notice.

"Here you are Ms. Yn" she turned on the heels of her feet to face me. "Keep it, you can return it to me when we have lunch again."

My face was now beet red as I tried to contain my excitement. "I-I'll uhh, I'll come see you after school. Does tomorrow work?"

"Works for me. Now go be a hero."

"Don't worry about a thing, I'll take care of everything. Farewell class!" I said as I began my way out of the classroom.

"GOODBYE ALMIGHT!!"

*BUMP*

I turned my attention back to where I was walking noticing I hit my head on the low door frame. Giggles came from behind me as I nervously chuckled and crouched out of the door. I was so excited I could barely contain myself. I dashed out of the school building and leaped through the air.

"PLUS ULTRA!"

28 notes · View notes

geminijoonie · 4 years ago

Text

Take care of you

Summary: “No I’m a surprise,” you say sounding all sassy and smiling where your cheeks fluff up and you look like a pufferfish and it always gets Namjoon. His eyes are crescents, dimples peeking from his cheeks.

“What would they say if they saw the big bad Kim Namjoon like this?” you ask raising your brow not as good as Namjoon but it gets the job done.

note: Hello, I am back after months with this piece. Feedback is always appreciated! Thank you for reading.

➡Mafia!Namjoon x reader

➡Warnings: 18+, Mentions of sex, reader’s family not letting her eat

Namjoon hates parties. Sure he’s the CEO, of one of the biggest crime syndicates in the world, the biggest and most feared in South Korea so he could have sent his associates or one of his brothers to attend this party but he was there for a very specific reason. Y O U.

With a frontal name of BigHit Inc., run by the most fearsome mafia BTS behind it, the most fierce crime lords and not by the old fashioned guns and murders way well, that sometimes yes, but mostly financial crimes, stealing money and intellectual property theft done so well they’ve been thriving the last few decades when their fathers, mafia bosses, seven families joined hands together to be sworn allies promising to take down and gain power over the corrupt government. Now run by their sons seven men, most of them educated in Ivy League schools. 5 of them even hold dual degrees, their leader Kim Namjoon or RM even holds a fucking Ph.D. A born genius, his IQ only amplifying his true potential. His members' capabilities, work ethic complimenting the jobs they pull off together as a team. This team was perfect and solid in all ways made to rule. As if fate had brought them together.

The party was boring as usual. All of the crime lords and mafia bosses with their families were here. It reminded Namjoon of the party, similar to this where he first laid his eyes on you. His gaze traveling from the bar section of the huge ballroom towards you at the opposite end where you were forced to make small talk. You stared back at him with the same intensity. Your eyes catching his gaze, latching onto his dragon eyes drowning in those dark orbs that stared at you. You weren’t afraid, not even intimated. No sign of a blush. You weren’t swooning like those other girls. You simply stared back at him equally fierce taking his presence in. Your own doe-like eyes even if not as sharp as his, held enough power to not only draw the attention of the most powerful, eligible bachelor, most feared CEO of an empire himself but also spark something in him. And ever since then your life and these parties have been different. You solely come here to see him. And the same for him. To see you.

What Namjoon and you shared was special. With your family owning amalgamation of big companies, reputable among the mafia bosses and crews it came with lots of curfews for you the heiress to your father. You were an asset. One that would be traded someday. To a man that would be chosen for you, based on his family, money and what value he can derive for your father and his business. And you shall be his dutiful wife, produce an heir and then wait for death inside some mansion. This was your fear. You were disgusted whenever any thoughts of how your future would be like crossed your mind. Amidst all the chaos, uncertainty and lack of control in your own life, you met Namjoon, your Joon. The man changed your entire perspective on love, intimacy and boy he had you pining for him even yearning. But what you didn’t realize is he was yours since he saw you for the first time two months ago.

Namjoon’s at his usual spot. By the bar. Waiting for you. With a drink in his hand. There was no way he could take you on dates given your family. The curfews. And that bullshit about what girls and women can and cannot do. He hated the way women were treated. He was lucky that his father was not as stupid as the others. He made sure that his sister was sent away to Switzerland to study, and live her life the way she wants to like any normal girl. And she was happy and so was his mother who lived in Japan with her own small business, even enjoying life. He hoped one day he can go away somewhere with you. Away from all this. Take you on dates. Hold your hand while he walks next to you. Kiss your cheeks whenever he wanted to. Make you giggle with all the cheesy compliments and then make out till his heart's content. Right now he had to settle for stealing glances in between. Carefully brushing his hand whenever he walked near you. This is all the affection or physical contact he’d get. On a good day, when people at the party would be preoccupied with taking some political party member down or something like that Namjoon would sneak you out to the roof, or to the parking lot inside his car to steal kisses. Heated kisses. Passionate kisses. One where he’d drag your soft lips between his teeth just to hear that moan. Running his hands all over your body while you clutched his torso, held on to his pecs and squeezed his biceps for dear life gasping for air. His plump lips swollen, his shirt buttons open, neck and collarbones littered with hickeys and marks you’d leave every time you had one of your little adventures. Namjoon would give anything to mark you just one small hickey but he couldn’t and he won’t risk your family finding you out. You have stylists and beauty consultants that will scan every inch of your body and he couldn’t afford to get you in trouble. So he holds back and tells himself that he’ll wait for the day, that one day you’ll be his.

All these thoughts suddenly clouding his mind made him feel so empty his forehead sweaty. He decided to step out to the balcony a little disappointed that he’s not seen you yet. He made sure your family was invited. He knows you’ll be there with them as your parents like to show you off like some diamond jewelry piece or an ornament they possess. The thought of you being married to someone else makes Namjoon’s blood boil. And even at these parties the way the other men scan your body, while you’re in your tight-fitting dresses draping your body perfectly makes him want to take his gun out and shoot them all. He looks over to the night sky sighing and drinking his third glass of scotch. Namjoon suddenly feels a pair of hands right above his navel and he’s ready to smack that person but he hears your voice and jolts instead trying to turn.

“Boo!”

“Were you supposed to meet me here?” Namjoon asks with a grin, lifting a brow as if he didn’t just get scared and pulls your wrist around his waist towards his back so he can hug you.

“No I’m a surprise,” you say sounding all sassy and smiling where your cheeks fluff up and you look like a pufferfish and it always gets Namjoon. His eyes are crescents, dimples peeking from his cheeks.

“What would they say if they saw the big bad Kim Namjoon like this?” you ask raising your brow not as good as Namjoon but it gets the job done.

“If I didn’t hear your voice, but only felt hands and if it weren’t you, they’d be dead princess” he responds voice deep and low holding that timber, his the last four words whispered into your ear. His breath making you feel ticklish so you giggle. He looks around to check if any eyes were on him and then, quickly pulls you into a hug. You smell divine as usual. Namjoon dips lower and places his chin near your neck. He loves it. The smell of your perfume, your shampoo combined with your own sweet natural scent. Makes him feel like some kind of animal, primal instincts kicking in and he knows if he keeps his head there he’s a goner. But what he feels now is different than usual. Your body is warmer to his touch. He’s used to how you normally feel. And right now you feel warm, your skin hot when he slots his fingers on your forehead brushing your hair to the side.

“Looks like you’re running a fever are you okay princess?” he asks his voice suddenly all serious, brows furrowed his gaze boring to where his hands meet your skin. You want to say that you’re okay, but you’re not. You feel sore everywhere. Your legs hurt from wearing heels. Your dress is too tight and you’re hating the way it feels all over your body. It’s making you feel uncomfortable. The material just feeling torturous against your feverish skin. You haven’t had proper meals because your family starved you so don’t look bloated for today’s event. They wouldn’t even feed you when you were sick. You threw up twice but they still made you come here. You need an IV probably. You thought you’d text Namjoon but since they were going to make you attend this party anyways might as well be here and get some serotonin from seeing him. You were always trained to say you’re okay. Making yourself seem strong. Your needs were never to be put first. But right now the way Namjoon looks at you, with so much care and concern makes your heart ache so you give in, tell him and you just want to sit down because you don’t know when your dizziness will be back. You want to cry because you’re so annoyed and irritated your brain a mess.

“No” you squeak out. You eyes now glossy and Namjoon’s heart just breaks at that. Only after a few seconds does he realize how your face gives away the exhaustion after he looked at it a little longer. The bags under your eyes can be seen. Even if the concealer did a good job of hiding the dark circles Namjoon can see how truly tired and exhausted you must be feeling. Your cheeks more hollow. Your posture barely making you stand straight or still. Fidgety. Weak. You lean into his arms. Your forehead meets his shoulder. His black blazer feels so soft. You sigh. you want to just stay there. Namjoon carefully pulls you off him while he cups your cheek and tells you that you both should move somewhere more private. You nod and sneak out of the room. Thankfully the party today was at a hotel, one of Seoul’s biggest and Namjoon makes some calls while you’re walking his hands securing you by his side while you make your way out. Namjoon notices how it’s hard for you to match his stride today. Even though the man is 70% legs you usually keep up with him by walking faster or leaping. But today you’re barely able to keep up with his slowest smallest strides. You walk for what feels like an hour but it’s just been two minutes. You’re back at the reception lobby and you see someone guide you and Namjoon to the elevator. The next thing you know you’re in a hotel room.

Namjoon leads you towards the bed once you’re in the room and the door is locked. A few seconds later you hear rustling and you know they’re the guards placed outside the door for security. You sit on the bed your legs finally catching a break from carrying you and the stupid dress around with those stupid heels. You loved wearing heels but not today sis. In your hazy state you try to pull them off only that you forgot to remove the strap first through the small metal buckle. The dress making it a struggle to bend over and reach for the straps. Namjoon sees your struggle and can’t help but let out a small giggle. You look up at him with those doe eyes, confused and there it goes his heart sinks again. He makes way his towards you, leans down on both his knees. He gently takes your right foot into his palm and with the other hand makes quick work to get you out of your heels. Within seconds he was able to accomplish what you were trying so hard to do. And with one of your problems gone, you just fall back onto the plush bed all grace forgotten. Once the head hits the soft cloud-like mattress you let out a sigh of happiness and then a groan. Your feet are still hanging downwards to the floor, your back was on the bed arched so you can rest your head down. But more comfortable than standing or walking right now but you’ll take it. Too tired to move you give up fatigue finally settling in.

“Move up sweetheart you’ll hurt your back” you hear Namjoon say but you have no energy. You don’t even respond sleep already taking over you. Especially now that you were safe, away from those eyes, your parents probably thought you’ll be talking to some guy impressing someone but little did they know you’d be here a few floors above the party with Joon. You don’t know what to call your little arrangement or these little sneaking out sessions are. You don’t know what Namjoon is to you. The two of you haven’t talked about it. It’s weird because you’ve talked about fate, why Namjoon hates seafood and how much you love the rain, the fraud patterns in his business but never about what Namjoon is to you. Not that you need a label, and not that maybe calling him your boyfriend would be a label like that, you’d actually like it. All you know is Namjoon likes you, for sure I mean he wouldn’t be kissing you like a starved man, you shoving your tongue down his throat or else. You know you love him but you don’t know if he loves you yet. It’s too much to ask for. Given the circumstances. You’re just glad you found him. And whatever moments you’ll get to share you’ll cherish them now and forever. You start thinking about all these moments while sleep pulled you in completely and you don’t hear Namjoon call your name again. You don’t hear him trying to wake you up. You don’t feel his hands cupping your cheek. You sure as hell don’t even feel his lips peck yours which is the first time in a while now. You don’t feel him undo some buttons and zips to get you off that dress. You don’t even feel the way he tucks you in.

All you now know is you wake up in a blanket nest. Soft blankets against your cheek, your hands, your legs. You sigh at this feeling smiling to yourself. You’re moving and stretching. Feeling like a new person. You’re fully awake now even though you haven’t opened your eyes and that’s when you hear him

“Can you hear me now sleepy head?” you know he’s only teasing you but you pout before opening your eyes to see him at the other side of the room with an amused smile.

“New person who dis” you reply only making him laugh. Namjoon’s shirtless. He’s wearing his dress pants, his blazer hung at the corner neatly next to your dress. And that’s when you realize you’re wearing his shirt while you napped.

“What time is it” you ask yawning. and when Namjoon says you register you’ve napped for three full hours. He makes his way towards you. He slowly climbs on the bed stretching his arm out for you and you waste no time in jumping to his embrace with your new-found energy. Namjoons smiling at that. He can never get used to how perfectly you fit against him. He’s the one sighing in comfort now. Sometimes Namjoon can’t tell if you know that he loves you or not. The way you make him feel. The way you make him crave your heart.

You peek up from his shoulder to look at him, his eyes never leaving you.

“Hi” you whisper smiling at him

“Hii” he replies back matching your hushed tone dimples on display and you can’t help but poke them. From here you can see how versatile Namjoon is. His expressions outside the usual are deadly. His sharp dragon eyes, jutted jaw, furrowed brows he looks dangerous and lethal. But now all you see is a soft dimpled giant with the cutest button nose and crescent eyes. His eyes hold so much warmth.

He gently cards fingers through your hair asking if your feeling better to which you nod. You reach up to peck his lips. And once you slot your lips onto his plush and soft ones you want more. You move your hand to the back of his head lightly carding your fingers through his hair spurring him on. Namjoon takes this incentive and slots his lips back to yours. You look so damn good in his shirt and now his mind is going crazy. Thoughts racing. He tilts your head so he can angle himself better. Little sucks and swipes of his tongue against your lips and mouth have your knees weak. He knows how to claim his jackpot already knows what makes you react and what you like. One hand reached down to knead your ass. You moan against his mouth breathless as you take him in. Lips swollen, luscious and glossy. Your eyes are unrelenting. And he decided it is at this moment, he has to tell you. He fears the worst will happen. That you’ll say no. And he might never get to see you again. Ever. But the way your body molds in his arms, the way you only always react to him, the way you make his heart always beat faster.

“Y/N I really re-really like you” there it was. That slight stutter. To Namjoon each second felt like a minute now but your eyes become wide and yoU smile a million-watt smile a second later. His hopes are back up. A warm feeling in his chest. Like a lightbulb inside him was lit. You can see him glowing. Now that the weight of his worries is halved. You cup his cheeks. And he thaws in your affection.

“I like you too Joon” you say voice barely above a whisper. You feel like a teenager confessing to her crush. You cheeks are painted red and Namjoon hasn’t seen a beautiful sight before. And now it’s actually your turn to get something off your chest.

“Heck I might even love you Kim Namjoon what are you doing to me” you say before you can think more and it has Namjoon visibly gasping and he pulls you in for another kiss. This time softer. Truly holding you against him. The way you belong to him. And the way he belongs to you. No more unsaid words. No more doubts.

“fuck baby girl be mine I love you too” he whispers inbetween kisses. You want to say something back but his lips are back on yours, molding them, tongue exploring. Leaving kisses at the corner of your mouth. On your chin. Your jaw. Slowly making its way down to your neck. You’re already so far gone you’re a whiny mess. Your body jolting backwards each time his lips touch the skin on your neck. fuck, you were so sensitive and that had his mind filled with filth. Moans dripping when he sucks and licks so gently. Your hand on his pecs, gripping his biceps or at the nape of his neck. Gentle touches, gets him so riled up and you know it. Moments with you like this lets him break his facade. Dive into his desires.

“So sensitive for me” Namjoon mutters to himself continuing his ministrations. One hand at the back supporting you, holding you strong. Another rubbing circles at your stomach for a few seconds, then holding you by the shoulder the next few seconds or groping your breasts softly making you whimper and suck in breaths.

Only when he slips his hand under his shirt on you does he realize the added warmth to your skin is from your fever reminding him of exhausted state and whatever you have going on will only make it worse if you don’t get to rest. Namjoon feels how flaccid and sunken your tummy feels. Not the way it usually does. He can easily notice all the inches you’ve lost. And suddenly there’s a change of energy.

“Those assholes, fuck princess let me take care of you” he says letting you go. His eyes have already changed. The hurt and anger you could see in them made a shiver run up your spine. You can never get used to his eyes. The anger he is actually capable of. He’s always so kind, gentle and sweet to you but that’s just one side. Within minutes there’s food at your room. Everything that you like is here. Gimbap but with extra cheese. Kimchi-jigae with egg-fried rice rather than normal rice because you like it that way and even some dessert. This man really put in everything he knew about you. You looked at him with so much adoration it only made his face turn red while he looked down and scratched the back of his head. Kim Namjoon was shy right now all dimples and smiling. You giggled and pulled him towards you so the two of you can enjoy this meal. You don’t know when your phone will start blowing up. You don’t know when you’ll have to leave, go away from Joon, his warmth, his comfort and his solace. So you take in this moment with everything it has to offer. Grateful that even the few minutes you spent awake with this man made you feel loved to the extent where you're always at a loss of words.

divider: @graph1cs

278 notes · View notes

clonecest-bin-account · 4 years ago

Note

hey i hope its okay i slap two reqs in here. can you write nsfw for rex/dogma in the verse of meeting and the connected fics? also, dont think ive ever seen it before, but hardcase/hound and grizzer because the mandolorian confirmed that the best quality of massifs are their wiggles and i think theyd be good dog parents (im sorry if you get this twice my internet timed out but im not sure if it sent)

(Don’t worry, I don’t mind the double prompts! I’m going to post the Rex/Dogma one today and the Hardcase/Hound one tomorrow, I hope that’s okay with you!)

(This fic is part of this series)

(Fic under the cut)

The next morning, things are less awkward than they should be: Rex wakes up, joins Dogma - who was already awake - on the couch, mutters a “good morning”, and they stay there for a while, not speaking. Not the worst thing that could’ve happened.

There’s one question hanging in the air, however, and sooner or later, one of them will have to talk about it.

Weirdly enough, it’s Rex the one who speaks up first. “You said we should talk.”

“Yes, I said that,” Dogma calmly replies.

“So… What should we exactly say?” Rex says. Ok, now things are starting to get awkward.

“Well… I’ll be honest, Rex,” Dogma begins. “Even if I really like it here in the Guard, I always missed you. I always held you in such a high esteem, then Krell came and… and for a moment, that esteem was shattered.” He lowers his gaze. “In the end, I was the one who was wrong. I should’ve seen that coming, and instead I remained blind to everything.”

“Dogma--”

Dogma raises his hand and Rex shuts up immediately.

“I felt like such a disappointment, and when we met again, I thought that I finally had the chance to make it up to you…”

Rex stays silent for a moment, his gaze weighting heavily on Dogma, who even lowers his eyes in order not to look at it. Then, he replies. “Dogma, first of all, you weren’t a disappointment.”

Dogma looks about to retort, but now it’s Rex the one who shushes him. “It was a difficult situation. There’s no need of making it up to me. At least I hope you haven’t stuck with me just because of that--”

“No!” Dogma immediately exclaims. “No, that’s not why I did it! It’s because, along the way, I… I fell. I-In love, I mean…”

“And yet you rejected me yesterday,” Rex points out, tone carefully neutral.

“That’s because I was afraid you were doing it just because you were desperate and I was the only one present, I didn’t--”

“Dogma, that couldn’t be farther from the truth,” Rex interrupts him, grabbing his hands and squeezing them. “I’ve been harboring the same feelings for a while too. I never said anything before because it never seemed the right moment. I’m sorry I’ve led you to believe that I didn’t return them.”

Dogma remains silent, observing Rex.

Then, in a flash, he moves, taking Rex’s face between his hands and seizing his lips. The other falls back for the surprise, landing with his back on the couch, and Dogma takes advantage of this to sit on his lap without stopping kissing him. Rex, however, doesn’t stay still, and after grabbing Dogma by the hips, he responds in kind, kissing back with the same force.

He makes a whine escape Dogma’s lips when he takes his lower lip between his teeth and sucks, making him tremble from head to toe. “Reeeex,” he whines, grinding his body against the other’s. Rex can already feel a small bulge pressing against his own.

“What do you want?”

“Fuck me.”

Rex wasn’t expecting Dogma to be this direct, but kriff if it isn’t hot. “Do you have slick?” he asks, and Dogma nods.

Oh, he’s going to fuck him good alright.

He’s as careful as ever in the way he prepares him, not wanting to hurt him in any way.

It’s hard not to gaze at the way Dogma shivers and arches upon his touch, at how flushed his face looks, at the way his lips hang open as he moans, even sticking his tongue out a bit… That’s it, Rex can’t resist anymore. In a moment he leans down, pressing his body against Dogma, kissing him until they’re both out of breath, and still even then it’s hard to pull away.

“Rex!” Dogma whines as the other twists his fingers inside him just right. “Please!”

It’s endearing how eager for it he already is, but Rex can’t deny sharing the same sentiment. “You sure?” he still asks, just to be certain. Last thing he needs is to get Dogma hurt because they wanted to get on with it faster than they should’ve had.

There’s nothing uncertain in the way Dogma nods, however. “Yes, please… I’m ready.”

Well, if he’s sure…

Rex removes his fingers, using them to coat his cock in lube. He shivers as he touches himself, but he tries to keep himself in check in order not to let go too early - he still has to get inside Dogma, for Prime’s sake.

Once he lines himself up over Dogma’s entrance, he shoots him another look, to which Dogma nods in response. “Please, please, please, please…”

With that ringing endorsement, Rex pushes inside, unable to contain his voice as he feels Dogma enveloping him. So good…

Once he bottoms out, he remains still, giving Dogma time to get used to the intrusion. “Ok?” he asks, caressing Dogma’s cheek.

“Yeah… Yeah, it’s fine,” the other replies, prompting Rex to begin slowly rocking his hips in and out, in and out. Dogma moans and his hands shoot up to hold onto Rex’s large shoulders, burying his fingernails into them; it burns a little, but Rex doesn’t find himself minding.

“Rex! Rex! Rex!” Dogma’s voice is filling the room, and it encourages Rex to keep going, thrusting deeper, faster. He wants to make Dogma see stars.

The more he goes on, the closer he finds himself to coming; looking at Dogma, he seems on the same boat. “Dogma…” Rex mutters, pressing their foreheads together, making Dogma open his eyes and their gazes meet. “Together?”

A nod. “Together,” he replies then, holding onto Rex with even more strength than before as Rex pushes and pushes and pushes and…

They do come indeed together, clinging onto each other, keeping close, whispering each other’s names like a prayer. It’s a lot, but not in a bad way; they feel so connected to each other. So good…

Even once Rex pulls away, they still remain entangled, without any intentions to move.

Rex nuzzles his nose against Dogma’s neck, making him chuckle and draw him in for a kiss to which Rex responds in kind. When they pull away, they press their foreheads together.

“Do you have to go?” Dogma asks, then, a small frown on his face.

Well, Rex should go, but… “I’ll stay here for another while,” he reassures him.

Sure, he will have to leave soon, but for now all he wants is to bask in Dogma’s warmth a bit longer. Judging by Dogma’s smile at those words, he feels the same.

Tag list: @maulusque @captainrexwouldnever If you want to be added feel free to let me know!

#assorted clonecest fics #clonecest #cloneshipping #rexdogma #captain rex #clone trooper dogma #rexdogma guard dogma au #my fics #spicy tag #Anonymous

31 notes · View notes

theheartsmistakes · 4 years ago

Text

The Last Night Part XX

A/N’s at the end:

Parts I-XIX:

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Here is Part XII

Part XIII

Part XIV

Part XV

Part XVI

Part XVII

Part XVIII

Part XIX

.XX.

Lucie was already awake when the knock came at her door. She’d been up with the sun writing a letter to Grace for her next available time to meet so that they could continue with their plan to resurrect Jesse without having to sacrifice a life. She’d been up half of the night with ghastly dreams of herself holding a knife to the neck of someone she loves. When it came down to it, even in her wildest imagination, she couldn’t bring herself to do it; not even to a stranger. When it seemed sleep would allude her, she did what she’d always do when reality came to be too much. She sat at her small writing desk pressed underneath the window so she could see the moon and the stars once the clouds had broken away enough. She started a new story. Disappearing into a different reality with new, but familiar people, and stayed with them until dawn. In her alternative universe, there was no mention of demon attacks, murder rates, or pretentious leaders. Instead, they flowered with friendships and love pursued, sustained, or left in need of resuscitation. The pages smelt soft as if sprinkled with powder. She wrote until her wrist ached and her fingers locked and she was forced to rest.

Lucie had just finished buttoning the pearl buttons down the front of her dress when a small knock came at her door. She picked up her gloves and companion hat and glanced once at the drying pages on her desk.

Her hands were stained with black ink that even the fiercest scrubbing wouldn’t remove. Her once clean and neatly trimmed nail beds were all colored with ink. When she woke this morning, she found a mark on her chin, across her forehead, and even some on her bottom lip. Luckily, those came off with a bit of soap and warm water. She recalled the hands of a painter that once did a portrait for the Institute. Not only his hands were riddled with color, but his clothes and his traveling bag as well. An artist doesn’t need to speak or show off their work to be known as an artist. An artist wears their work wherever they go.

She smiled to herself as she opened the door to find their butler with a letter sitting on a silver tray.

“The post arrived,” he said and lowered the tray for Lucie. “Breakfast shall be ready shortly. Are you in need of any assistance this morning.”

As soon as she saw the neat, elegant gold lettering of her name on the smooth parchment, Lucie nearly leaped onto the letter.

“No, thank you,” she fumbled. “That will be all.” And shut the door with her foot.

Without a letter opener close by, she used her finger to slide underneath the wax seal and pulled out the letter, tossing the envelope aside as she unfolded the paper.

Dear Lucie,

I am writing to request your assistance with some correspondence letters I have been needlessly putting off for the last month. If you find yourself with some time today, would you be so kind as to come by the house at any time after noon. The back door will be open. You can see yourself in.

Best,

Aunt Cecily

Clever girl, thought Lucie. Pretending to be her Aunt as to not give away their agenda. Perhaps she did not give Grace the full credit she deserved.

She folded the letter into a small rectangle and stuffed into the bodice of her dress. As she turned to leave, her gloves slipped from her hands and her mouth dropped.

Jesse leaned against the door. With his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes held her face with a rage that rivaled even her own anger.

“And what is it that you want?” She asked with a slight break in her voice.

Jesse’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not going.”

Lucie scoffed. “And are you going to be the one who stops me?”

“Yes,” he growled.

“Is this how it’s to be?” She brushed a curl away from her face. “I do something you don’t particularly agree with and you suddenly become my own personal poltergeist?”

“When you’ve left me no other choice,” he said. “I’m trying to leave you alone. I realize I made a mistake by taking advantage of your ability to see me. I’ll never forgive myself for giving into the selfish ideology that after so many years alone, I finally had someone to talk to, that it never occurred to me the wild, beautiful girl would try to resurrect my lifeless corpse.”

“A terrible mistake on your part,” said Lucie, picking up her gloves from the floor.

Jesse stepped away from the door. “I tried staying away from you, but that clearly hasn’t worked. You’ve just managed to get yourself into even more trouble.”

“I need you to move,” said Lucie.

“Lucie, you cannot go there. It’s dangerous. Whatever you’re thinking, whatever they’re planning, it will not bring me back. Not as I was and not as I am now.” He reached for her, but his hands stopped in the air, as if he suddenly thought better of it. His expression softened. “In truth, this is something that I never wanted to confess to you, I’d hoped that you’d simply just let me go. But I realize how important it is now. Lucie, the way you think you feel about me, I don’t feel that way about you.”

Lucie rocked back on her heels just a bit. “And how is it you think I feel about you?”

“An infatuation,” said Jesse. “I’ve let it go on because there’s not many people to talk to when no one can see you. I’ve been alone for so long, quietly observing everything, but never able to engage. And then one day, I heard a girl’s voice in the forest, calling for help and I felt this pull to answer her. A pull that I couldn’t ignore. I never expected you to be able to see me— much less communicate with me, but you could. And it felt like dry land after months at sea. I’ve been using you, Lucie. Selfishly using you, because I couldn’t stand to be alone any longer.”

Lucie’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you. You’re just saying these things so I won’t go.”

“It’s true,” said Jesse. “Lucie, you’ve been a great friend, but bringing me back to life won’t make us more than that.”

He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t mean it. He was just trying to push her away; protect her. But the doubt crept in all the same. He never once insinuated that their relationship was anything more than a strange friendship. If he were all she had to talk to in the world, she felt she would have clung to him, if only not to be alone.

Warmth spread across her cheeks. She had to look away from him. She needed to leave. “Please move,” said Lucie quietly.

“Are you still—“

“Move,” she said again and his form brushed aside as if shoved by the wind. Jesse stumbled for a moment, while he gained his bearings again, Lucie pulled open the door and left.

Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks, but she managed to hold them back. If this was his truth, it was best she knew. Still, the anger boiled inside of her until she almost turned around twice to tell him that she wasn’t bringing him back so they could ride off into the sunset together. She was giving him his life back because he didn’t deserve to die when he did. The way he did. He deserved to live and if she could give that to him, with nothing in return, then that would make her happy.

But if that wasn’t what he wanted, then perhaps it wasn’t her place to force it upon him.

She ran past the empty drawing room and turned the corner to descend the hallway to the dining room when she stopped.

Standing outside the door, pacing like a nervous jungle cat in a cage, was Cordelia. As Lucie approached, it seemed she was speaking in an entirely different language to herself, muttering to hands without noticing Lucie’s approach until she stood right behind her.

“Oh!” Cordelia stumbled back, clutching her chest. “Lucie, I didn’t hear you.”

Lucie appraised Cordelia, her hair was pulled back and braided into a coronet that ran into a braid down her shoulder. Her dress was a soft honey color that swooped across her chest exposing her delicate collarbone. The intricate beading had spots missing, but Lucie could still tell it was one of Cordelia’s most treasured items, if only because she’d never seen her wear it before.

“You look lovely,” said Lucie, running her fingers over the soft silk of the skirt that held Cordelia’s curve closely.

“Do I?” Cordelia blanched. “I supposed I’m trying to make a bit of an impression today.”

Lucie looked around the empty hallway. “On whom?”

Cordelia blushed. “It’s a bit of a long story, and I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable by telling you this information, but James and I may have kissed last night.”

Lucie’s eyebrow jumped and her traitorous heart ached. “May have?”

Cordelia grinned down at her distressed leather boots. “All right, we did. But before we could discuss it, my brother walked out and said all of these awful things to him. I haven’t been able to talk to him yet. I feel terrible.”

“Is that why dinner was so awkward last night?” asked Lucie, recalling the silent meal that passed between everyone except for the adults who kept attempting to make conversation, but couldn’t manage to get more than a few words out of the young adults sitting at the end of the table. No one would make eye contact and Cordelia just pushed the vegetables around her shepherds pie. Lucie had just assumed it was because she didn’t like shepherds pie. “Is James in there now?”

Cordelia shook her head. “My brother is sitting in there alone. A ploy to be sure James and I aren’t alone together. I was hoping to catch James before he came to breakfast, but I haven’t seen him come down. Oh, do you think he’s avoiding me?”

“No,” Lucie assured her. “He’s probably dressing as we speak and taking just as much care as you have.”

“Is it too obvious?”

“No, just the right amount of obvious,” said Lucie. “Sometimes I think my dear brother needs a brilliantly lit beacon for a sign and even then it might wallop him over the head before he saw it. Why don’t you go find him now and I’ll distract Alastair?”

“Because I can’t risk someone seeing me go into his room alone and I can’t very well speak to him freely in the open hallway,” said Cordelia, burying her face in her gloved hands. “I was hoping to catch him before breakfast and ask him for a morning walk. I don’t know what to do, Lucie, I’ve never been in this sort of situation before. And now I have Alastair hovering around me like a judgmental headmistress at a convent.”

“Have you a lot of experience at convents?” teased Lucie.

“You know what I mean,” said Cordelia.

Lucie smiled and patted her dear friend between the shoulders. “I do. Now, here’s what we’re going to do—“

Before she could give Cordelia her plan, James ran into the hallway. His hair stood up from sleeping on it wet and his gear was buckled incorrectly as if he’d done it in a hurry and without glancing in a mirror. Lucie couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She looked over at Cordelia who was beaming as if a witchlight had been stuffed inside of her.

“The post arrived—“ James started but was quickly shushed by a gloved hand over his mouth.

Cordelia lunged at him. “Shhh… we must be quiet. Alastair is there.”

James stiffened. “Good. I mean to speak to him.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” said Lucie, blocking the door. “I think the two of you have more to speak about than you and Alastair. Besides, it’s barely nine in the morning. That’s far too early for blood shed.”

James took Cordelia’s hand as if in some sort of act of defiance. “I am not going to sneak around your brother. I’m not going to sneak around anyone. We’ve spent far too much time in secret, I won’t do it anymore.”

Cordelia seemed to melt into herself as she leaned towards James.

Lucie snapped her fingers between them. “That’s wonderful, but now is not the time. What was in the post?”

James tore his eyes away from Cordelia to look back at his sister. He looked at her with a confused expression as if he had no idea what she was talking about.

“The post,” Lucie demanded. “You said the post arrived. What was in the post?”

“Right,” he shook his head. “Magnus replied. He said that he found it suspicious that we chose to write him a letter rather than show up at his door unexpectedly and unannounced as history suggests. Suspicious and intriguing, he said, so he’s invited us over this afternoon.”

“Wonderful,” said Cordelia. “How are we going to get past my brother?”

The three of them thought for a moment. If Alastair had any suspicion that Cordelia would be going off with James alone, he’d be sure to insist on joining or not allowing it at all.

“You’ll tell him you’re coming with me,” said Lucie. “I have to go to Aunt Cecily’s this afternoon to help her with some correspondence. You can tell him that you’re joining me. James, what time are you supposed to patrol with Matthew?”

“Noon,” said James.

“That’s perfect,” said Lucie. “You’ll look as if you’re going off to meet Matthew to patrol and Cordelia will look as if she’s joining me to go to Cecily’s except Cordelia will hop into your carriage instead of mine.”

James and Cordelia stared at Lucie for a long moment before either of them said anything.

“That brilliant, actually,” said James.

“I know, now fix your gear,” said Lucie. “You look like an idiot.”

Lucie speared another sausage onto her fork from the steaming plate in the middle of the dining room table that had been neatly done up with slow burning candles and plain white china plates. Tessa and Will had left the Institute early to attend a meeting with the Counsel. Sona was being visited by a Silent Brother who insisted on keeping a close eye on Sona’s pregnancy due to her age and fragility.

The meal prepared was as extravagant as the table setting: piles of fresh sausages, perfectly browned toast with freshly churned cinnamon butter, golden scrambled eggs, bacon slices, and bowls of seasonal fruit sprinkled with sugar.

The smell wafted through the Institute like a beacon.

Lucie sat beside Cordelia who sat opposite Alastair. He’d finished his breakfast before they left James to ready the carriages. With his plate cleared from in front of him, he flipped through the mundane newspaper occasionally glancing up to examine the two girls opposite him.

The silence between the two Carstairs was palpable. If Lucie wasn’t so nervous herself about having to go to Grace and tell her that she no longer wanted to help bring Jesse back, she might have tried harder to fill the silence. But with her own thoughts racing with the truth Jesse had shared with her, she couldn’t bring herself to even try.

“What are your plans for today?” Alastair asked gently. “I thought we could go to the park and get some fresh air. Maybe that will help to restore some of your memories.”

Cordelia’s fork clanged against her plate. “Lucie’s Aunt needs help responding to correspondences today. I’ve been asked to join her.”

“Oh,” said Alastair. “That’s all right. Do you need an escort?”

“No,” said Cordelia sharply. “James will be busy patrolling with Matthew so you needn’t worry about the two of us sneaking off together.”

Alastair’s mouth stiffened. “Cordelia, I know that you’re angry with me, but—“

“I’m not angry,” said Cordelia, pushing her plate of food away. “We can walk around the park tomorrow or perhaps this afternoon. There are some things we aren’t finished discussing, but if you’ll excuse us, our carriage should be ready and Cecily is expecting us.”

Lucie followed Cordelia when she stood up from the table, but before she turned to leave, she saw Alastair look down at his hands resting in his lap. His mouth muttered something under his breath, probably something he wanted to say to Cordelia, but couldn’t bring himself to. For all of his faults, and he had many, Lucie could recognize the love in his eyes towards his sister.

The two girls left the room, hurrying through down the hallway towards the front doors where two carriages waited. James sat in the driver’s seat of the open one that was mostly used for transporting items. Balios stood patiently while James hopped down and assisted Cordelia into the spot beside him on the bench.

“We’ll meet back at the Institute at three,” said Lucie, that would give them plenty of time for Magnus to muddle through Cordelia’s mind and James to look for the book while she abandoned her plan to help Jesse. “We need to come in together so no one will be suspicious. Good luck, Cordelia. If anyone can find your lost memories, it’s Magnus.”

“Let’s hope so,” said Cordelia and nodded at James to leave.

Lucie gathered her dress and climbed into the carriage waiting for her. She took her seat beside the window on the plush velvet bench and tried not to think about what she was about to do.

Jesse’s words played over in her mind until eyes burned. Maybe it was foolish of her to believe that there was anything more there; that he might actually care for her. Perhaps she did spend too much time in her fairytales that she’d lost touch of reality. Perhaps this was all for the best. She could focus on her training, on becoming parabatai with Cordelia, and finish her manuscript for publication. She’d have to think of a clever pen name, possibly a male one like Jane Austen had, so that her audience would expand past bored housewives.

And perhaps one day she’d meet someone. Alive, preferably, and her feelings for Jesse Blackthorn would be just a distant memory that she tucked into a box in her mind until they’re completely forgotten about, consumed by other things.

She wondered if he’d forget her too. If that was something he could do.

If it was something he’d done already.

It was nearly noon when the carriage came to a stop outside of her Aunt Cecily’s house. She did as Grace instructed and went around the back. The house looked dark when she approached the door though the garden. There was no light coming through the windows, normally Cecily had the doors open to let a breeze inside and some of the stuffiness out or the housemaids were hard at work dusting rugs, hanging laundry, or pouring out dirty mop water, but there was no such activity. Perhaps Grace preferred everything to be quiet.

Lucie rapped her knuckles on the dark wood once. “Grace, it’s Lucie. I don’t want to frighten you by barging in.”

After a moment, when she heard nothing, she tested the door knob and found it unlocked. She pushed it open on its aged hinges and walked into the kitchen. The curtains had all been drawn leaving the room dark except for small slivers of light where the sun came in through a break in the curtains. Flakes of dust danced in the air as Lucie passed through to the front drawing room.

“Grace,” Lucie called as she checked the chairs and the lounge sofa where they’d shared their bargain. The room was empty and quiet except for the sound of the old grandfather clock ticking away the seconds. “Grace, are you here?”

A chill drifted through the thin fabric of Lucie’s sleeves. There was a faint smell of burning wood.

Lucie turned towards the stairs leading up to the second floor.

“I don’t find this humorous,” said Lucie, and walked slowly up the stairs despite her instincts telling her to stop. “If you’re hiding because you don’t want to help me, well I’m here to tell you that I’ve decided to put an end to our plan. Your brother is adamant that he doesn’t want my help to bring him back and wishes to terminate all contact with me, so you can stop the theatrics now.”

She reached the top of the landing where the hallway split in two directions: West and East. Lucie glanced to her right and knew her aunt and uncle's room to be down at the end and Anna’s room being the first door on the left.

The sound of shuffling feet came from her left. She glanced in that direction just as the skirt of a white dress drifted into a doorway.

Lucie released a sigh and hurried towards the door. Words laced with venom filled her mouth as she stomped down the hallway and nearly kicked open the door.

“I sincerely hope you—“ The words were cut short. Laying in the center of a four poster bed in a black tailored suit, like he’d just risen from a nap, was Belial.

He grinned that cunning, familiar smile at her. “Good,” he said. “You received my message.”

A/N: Happy Halloween friends! I hope you all had a wonderful and safe holiday whether it was spent watching scary movies alone or with friends, safely trick-or-treating in a neighborhood, or partying it up sipping booze through a straw and hole in your mask while dressed like Napoleon Dynamite or a ninja turtle (I'm not judging). Live your best life! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. We are starting to get back into the thick of it, and I for one, am excited. Please give it a like, tell me your thoughts on this chapter, reblog if you feel so inclined, and if you haven’t all ready give me a follow. I post about books, romance, and zero politics. Next update is coming at you, Nov 15!

#The Last Night #the last night fanfiction #the shadowhunter chronicles #cassandra clare #chain of gold #chain of gold fanfic #jordelia fanfiction #jordelia #james x cordelia #lucie x jesse #james herondale #Cordelia Carstairs #the last hours

41 notes · View notes

shhh-no-ones-home · 4 years ago

Text

december 23 - ricky horror

title: one in seven

++++

its official where i live! marry christmas and happy holidays to yall. i hope you all have a great day and enjoy the last couple fics of the year! thanks again for reading and sharing, i love you all and wish you all the best in 2021.

prompt: Notes and gifts from a "secret Santa" take a strange turn

request from: n/a

tag list: @musicsexandpizza69 @svintsandghosts @alilpunkrock @cynic-spirit @theoneandonlykymberlee @joeynihil @lifeisabitchandsoareyou @thisplace-ishaunted @xyours-eternallyx

++++

one week. thats all that was left. five days till christmas day and i was all but turned off by the idea of gifts and celebration and parties and everything else that came with the holiday. i think my secret santa knew that though, whoever it was. dont get me wrong, i didnt mind being on the road for christmas, i didnt like the day, and i didnt have family to spend time with so it didnt really matter. but little did i know at the beginning of this that everyday i would wake up to something weirder in my stocking. and not even in a bad way, cause the two things id received already were super awesome.

and yes, it was the guys idea to put stockings up and do secret santa. that way we each got something small the seven days before christmas and the day of we would ultimately find out who our gift giver was over dinner as they gave us one final larger present. and dont get me wrong, i was an excellent gift giver, already two days in and vinny had loved the two things i had secretly slipped into his stocking but i was getting more impatient. i wanted to know who was getting me things only a few people knew i wanted. and ultimately i wanted vinny to know who was giving him his gifts.

when i got up today i wasnt exactly sure what i was going to be pulling out of the stocking hanging outside my bunk. the first day i had gotten a skeleton hand mug, the second day i had gotten a bag of death wish coffee, and i really just wanted to know if the theme would continue. maybe this person was trying to tell me something. i laid in my bunk as my alarm went off, silencing it almost immediately since i was awake already, just staring at the ceiling. i tossed the blanket off and slid out of my bunk slowly, looking up at chris as he leaned back into the opposing one, sipping out of his Starbucks cup from yesterday.

"morning."

i said and he held his cup to me in cheers.

"morning."

he said groggily.

"you check your stocking yet?"

i asked and he nodded.

"yep, todays was a voodoo donut and a starbucks giftcard."

he said with a smile and i laughed.

"guess you get it twice a year now huh."

i said and he nodded contently,

"whats in yours?"

he asked and i turned around, my eyes going wide at how thick it looked. i drew my brows and reached my arm into it. i felt something soft graze my hand before pulling it out.

"awe, its so cute."

i said as i pulled the plush bat out, taking the black silk eye mask off of it and petting its head. i showed it to chris.

"either my secret Santa thinks i sleep too much or not enough."

i said with a laugh, putting the eye mask into my bag next to the coffee and mug. chris laughed a little bit as ricky slid his curtain over from behind him.

"what you guys talking about?"

he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"y/n's concerned with the gifts from her secret santa."

chris answered and rick raised a brow.

"how come?"

he asked and i shrugged, hugging the bat to my chest.

"ive gotten two things of coffee so far and two things to sleep with. im getting mixed signals to say the least."

i said with a laugh and he nodded, jumping down from his bunk with a thud.

"maybe they think you needed something to help you keep up the good work, and something to help you relax. you do work harder than all of us combined."

he mentioned, making me smile.

"thanks rick, i guess ill just have to wait another few days and ask when i find out who it is."

i said and he nodded.

"guess so."

---

"okay, this is getting more and more confusing."

i said, unwrapping the fuzzy blanket, holding it out to look at what was on it. the whole thing was solid black with alchemy symbols, pentagrams, crystal balls, and the likeness on it in bright pastel pinks and purples. it was really cute and matched the bat perfectly. all this stuff just had me wondering what i could be getting at dinner. i knew this blanket wasnt cheap, it had a black craft tag on it after all.

"whats confusing?"

vinny asked, holding the new bulls jersey in his hand.

"the theme of these is a little skewed to say the least."

i said and he shrugged.

"that looks comfy."

he said, running his hand over the side of it and i nodded.

"what else have you gotten?"

he asked and i sighed.

"coffee, a mug, a plush bat, a sleep mask, pastel bath bombs, a coffee and honey face scrub mask, fuzzy black and pink socks, and now this blanket. its like a care package."

i said and he shrugged.

"guess youll just have to find out at dinner, which we should probably get ready for."

---

as we all sat around the table i watched intently as we went down the line, each person giving their last gifts. justin had chris, chris had ryan, ryan had aj, aj had justin, i had vin, vin had rick, and finally rick had me. as he got up he reached for a large box and my eyes went wide.

"okay y/n i know all week youve been trying to figure out what the hell this all could be leading up to but i asked all of the guys if we could pitch in on something so its not just from me."

i drew my brows.

"we all know you work ten times harder than the rest of us so we all wanted to do something special for you."

he said, setting the box down in front of me on the table.

"you guys didnt have to do that. you guys put so much into the band, im nothing special."

i said and he sent me a disapproving look.

"but you are, without you none of this would work. so as a thank you from all of us..."

he said, pointing to the box and i moved slowly to open it, all of them watching me intently. i ripped the paper off first, then going in to rip the tape off it and popping the sides open one at a time. when i pulled the tissue paper out of the way i drew my brows. in it was a large wooden box.

"okay?"

i asked, pulling it out and setting it on the table in place of the carboard box.

"open it."

chris said from across the table and i pushed the gold tab up, lifting the lid. as soon as i saw what was in it my mouth dropped. i wanted to inspect it more but my vision was going blurry at the tears behind my eyes.

"you guys."

i said, closing it and standing up to give rick a hug.

"so i take it you like it?"

he asked and i nodded against him, pulling away and wiping the tears off my face.

"its beautiful."

i said, opening the box back up and looking over the kit of art supplies. there was everything i could ever ask for in here: a water color palette, gouache, oil pastels, soft pastels, colored pencils, drawing pencils, two sketch pads, brushes, the whole nine yards.

"we wanted to get you something that you enjoy and that relaxes you. this whole week ive been building up stuff that could make you comfortable during or after a long work day: comfy stuff to sleep with, coffee when youre running around making sure we're all in line, spa stuff to help you chill at home. they all helped with this idea but we thought it could be something to get you out of the real world when youve had enough. and now youll think of all of us when you use it."

he said with a wide smile and i couldn't help crying again.

"you guys take such good care of me."

i said through a sniffle as vin leaned over and hugged me, then Justin leaned in and did the same, pretty soon all of them were standing around me in big a group hug.

"we love you y/n, we wouldnt get anything done without you and we're so glad to call you a team member and most importantly a friend."

rick said, as they all stood back up and went back to their seats.

"thank you guys, for everything. and thank you especially for making this a special christmas, the most special christmas ive ever had."

he squeezed my shoulder gently.

"youre part of the family now y/n, and we wouldnt want it any other way."

#25 days of christmas requests #x reader #ricky horror #imagines #one shots #im so far up miws ass

33 notes · View notes

abrakophile · 3 years ago

Text

I was looking through a bunch of junk and found some letters from my dad when he was in the army. I’m afraid I'll accidently toss them, so maybe I’ll put them here?

OPs Name JUNE 02 03

I LOVE YOU

THIS IS MY NAME IN KURDISH

*my dad wrote his first and last name, and under it, in Kurdish*

ILL TRY AND FIND OUT HOW TO WRITE YOUR NAME AND MOMS TOO.

ITS STILL HOT. I WORK AND READ BOOKS TO PASS THE TIME AWAY.

HOW ARE YOU DOING? GOOD I HOPE. WHAT DO YOU DO FOR FUN? DO YOU EVER HANG OUT WITH YOUR FRIENDS? TELL THEM I SAID “WASSUP?” NAH, DONT TELL THEM. TELL ME WHAT YOUR THINKING. I’M TRYING TO SEND YOU SOME MORE OF MY DRAWINGS. WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DRAW YOU? DID YOU LIKE THE DRAWING I SENT YOU OF YOU NAME? ITS ALRIGHT IF YOU DIDNY. JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU DO WANT ME TO DRAW YOU.

(Flip Page)

THIS IS WEIRD! (The page does not have lines on the left side of it) i WONDER WHAT HAPPENED TO THIS PIECE OF PAPER. HaHa

I MISS YOU ALOT. PLEASE SOND ME SOME MORE OF YOUR DRAWINGS, YOU CAN DRAW ME ANYTHING YOU WANT TO.

ARE YOU BEING GOOD FOR YOUR MOM? ITS NICE IF YOU HELP HER OUT WHILE I’M AWAY.

HAVE YOU BEEN ANYPLACE NEW? HOW IS SCHOOL GOING FOR YOU? IS MOMMY GOING TO SCHOOL? I KNOW I WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL WHEN I GET BACK. HOPEFULLY I GET THE CHANCE TO LEARN EVERYTHING THAT THERE IS TO KNOW. THAT WOULD BE GREAT.

ALSO, ID LIKE TO DO SOME FISHING? HOW ABOUT YOU? I GUESS ILL END HERE. BE GOOD AND STAY IN SCHOOL. AND JUST SAY NO TO DRUGS.

THEYRE BAD.

I LIVE YOU OP

*hearts and x’s* DADDY

---

(I don’t know if all these pages are in order or if it’s missing any, but this was the letter in the same stack as the last but this one was for my mom. In some places his indents indicate passage of time.)

I HAVENT HAD ANY TIME TO WRITE SINCE WEVE BEEN ON THE ROAD, NOT TO MENTION THAT WE CAN’T SEND MAIL WHEN WE’RE MOVING ALL THE TIME.

WEVE BEEN ON THE ROAD FOR ABOUT FIVE OR SIX DAYS, I HAVENT REALLY BEEN COUNTING. I KNOW I TOLD YOU THAT WE’D BE IN KUWAIT FOR A WHILE, BUT THAT WAS SO YOU WOULDNT BE WORRIED. I’M GOING TO KEEP THIS LETTER THOUGH, TILL I GET HOME.

ABOUT TWO NIGHTS AGO, WE DROVE THROUGH BAGDHAD, SOMEBODY SAID THAT THERE WERE PILED BODIES, I DONT KNOW IF IT WAS TRUE.

AND I GUESS YESTERDAY, A COUPLE OF PEOPLE SAID THEY SAW A MISSILE OR SOEMTHING SHOT AT US. I WAS TRYING TO FIX A TRUCK SO I DIDNT SEE IT.

ITS NOT AS DUSTY HERE IN IRAQ. IT REMINDS ME OF THE CONVOYS IN KOREA.

MOST OF THE PEOPLE WILL WAVE “HI”. SOME OTHERS DONT.

I SAW A KID OPEN HIS HAND ONCE WHILE MOVING, AND IT SAID “BUSH” THAT WAS KIND OF COOL.

OH YEAH. HERES A STORY. WHILE OUT DOING A MISSION, ONE OF OUR “BRADLEY” TANKS FIRED ON AN ENEMY AMMO TRUCK AND CLIPPED A KID. THE ROUNDS BLEW ONE OF HIS LEGS OFF AND SOME OF THE OTHER, FROM THE KNEE DOWN. SO THE MEDICS PICKED HIM UP AND BROUGHT HIM TO OUR RECONCOLIDATING POINT FOR MEDICAL TREATMENT. I GUESS HE EVENTUALLY DIED FROM LOSS OF BLOOD THE NEXT NIGHT AND YESTERDAY THEY TOOK HIM OUT AND BURIED HIM.

ALSO WE PICKED UP ABOUT 25-30 P.O.W.s AND SENT THEM SOUTH.

IT GETS PRETTY COLD AT NIGHT. AND THE DAY’S ARE VERY HOT.

SINCE WE LEFT KUWAIT ITS BEEN ME AND MENDOZA IN THE FIVE TON WRECKER AND I HAVE TO ADMIT THAT ITS BEEN EXCITING. WE KEPT GETTING SEPERATED FROM THE CONVOY AND BREAKING DOWN. BUT I THINK THAT WERE BETTER NOW. HOPEFULLY.

IM STILL WAITING TO BE AMBUSHED TO MAKE ALL THIS SEEM REAL TO ME. A PART OF ME WANTS IT AND ANOTHER DOESNT.

AND IT SEEMS LIKE ONLY OUR UNIT HAS TO STAY IN UNIFORM, EVERYONE ELSE WEARS T-SHIRTS AND BANDENA’S AND RAGS ON THEIR HEAD

WERE STILL GOING NORTH. NOBODY KNOWS HOW LONG WE’LL STAY. ITS NOT THAT BAD HERE. MEANING, IT COULD BE WORSE.

I USED A “SHIT-CHAIR”. ITS JUST A METAL CHAIR WITH A HOLE CUT IN THE MIDDLE AND THE SEAT FROM A TOILET BOLTED TO IT, GROSS.

HELICOPTERS CAN BE HEARD ALL DAY AND NIGHT. I GOT TO SEE THEM DROP BOMBS ALL DAY ABOUT 3 DAYS AGO, FROM A DISTANCE OF COURSE.

ILL BE DRIVING AGAIN, IN A MINUTE. PROBABLY RE-FUEL AND BACK ON THE ROAD AGAIN. IM ENJOYING IT.

I HAVE 8 MAGAZINES FULL OF ROUNDS. NO GRENADES, BUT I LIKE IT LIKE THAT.

SOMETIMES IT SMELLS LIKE SHIT.

I GUESS ILL END IT HERE FOR NOW

I LOVE YOU AND MISS YOU TWO TWICE IF NOT THRICE AS MUCH AS YOU MIGHT MISS ME TOO.

HELLO AGAIN. WERE SOMEWHERE NEAR TIKRI + MOSUL. YESTERDAY, ME + MENDOZA WENT LOOKING FOR MOMENTO’S. WE BROKE A LOCK TO A NEAR BY BUNKER AND FOUND 6 A.K.47s! BUT ON OUR WAY BACK TO TURN THEM IN, MAJOR TATU GOT THEM FROM US. I WAS SO PISSED. BUT I GOT A GAS MASK w/ FILTER, A FULL MAGAZINE CLIP FROM ONE OF THE A.K.s AND A BERET WITH IRAQ 1 RANK ON IT.

I MADE A STENCIL FOR THE TRUCK WERE RIDING IN. ITS CALLED THE “GAMBLER.” YESTERDAY MENDOZA DROVE, SO TODAY ILL BE DRIVING.

IM NOT POSITIVE, BUT, I THINK WERE GOING TO TURKEY. NIETO SAYS THAT HE OVERHEARD SOMEBODY FROM S1 (or SI, I’m not sure) SAYING WE MIGHT GET PAID EXTRA FOR GOING THROUGH BAGHDAD.

I THINK NIETO’S MAD AT ME. CANT EXPLAIN WHY. MAYBE ITS BECAUSE IM RIDING WITH MENDOZA AND HE DOESNT LIKE MENDOZA TOO MUCH. OH WELL, WHATEVER REASON, HOPE THINGS GET NORMAL AGAIN. HAVE TO GO,

*hearts and xs*

TODAY IS THE 25th OF APRIL, I RECEIVED FIVE OR SIX (OR SEVEN) LETTERS YESTERDAY. THE LATEST WAS DATED 07 OF APRIL. THAT TELLS ME THAT ITS GOING TO TAKE A WHILE TO COMMUNICATE.

WE HAVENT RECEIVED MAIL BECAUSE WEVE BEEN MOVING NEVER STAYING IN ONE PLACE MORE THAN A DAY, OR TWO, UNTIL NOW. WE’VE BEEN IN THIS SPOT GOING ON FOUR DAYS TOMORROW?!

GIVE ME A MINUTE...

FOR THE LAST COUPLE OF DAYS IVE BEEN HELPING MENDOZA PULL THE ENGINE OUT OF A 5 TON TRUCK AND SWITCH IT w/ ANOTHER ONE. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN EASY BUT THE FLY WHEEL SEIZED UP INSIDE THE BELL HOUSING. ITS FINISHED NOW AND THE RUMOR IS WE’RE LEAVING (OR MOVING) AGAIN TOMORROW.

ITS 10:33 THURSDAY MORNING. YOUR TIME IS 12:32 JUST TURNING THURSDAY.

I ALMOST CRYED WHEN I SAW ELIS PICTURE. I REALLY MISS BOTH OF YOU. LET ME BACK TO BEFORE I GOT DISTRACTED. I HAVENT BEEN ABLE TO SEND MAIL BECAUSE WE’VE BEEN MOVING. BUT I GUESS THAT WHATEVER THREAT THERE WAS (IF ANY), ISNT SO THREATFUL ANYMORE, WE CAN START RECEIVING AND SENDING MAIL. NO PHONE TO CALL FROM, AND NO INTERNET TO E-MAIL FROM.

THE WHOLE UNIT IS SCATTERED, SO EVEN IF I GET WHAT YOU NEED IT’LL TAKE FOREVER TO GET IT TO YOU. LET ME PULL THOSE LETTERS BACK OUT. OH WAIT. I DID LAUNDRY AND SOME UNDERWEAR THATS DRY, FELT HARD, OH WELL, WAIT A SECOND, K

I HAD TO FOLD SOME T-SHIRTS. ALL MY SOCKS ARE STILL DAMP.

YOU CAN USE MY CONTRACT TO SHOW THAT I ENLISTED IN TEXAS AND HOWS THIS

*On a separate sheet my dad wrote a detailed note for my mom to give to someone to confirm that he did want to buy a house. He writes “I AM ALIVE AND WELL.” and “PLEASE ACCEPT THIS PAPER”, then he signed it with his scribble signature, and underneath it wrote his name in print and added “1st SQUADRON 10th CAVALRY HEADQUARTERS TROOP (I have no clue what this means)*

HOW’S THAT? HOPE I SPELLED EVERYTHING CORRECTLY. IM ALMOST READY WITH A DESIGN TO COVER THE OTHER TATTOOS ON MY LEFT FOREARM.

I JUST FINISHED LOOKING OVER ALL THOSE LETTERS YOU SENT FOR ME

IM BACK! I GOT SLEEPY SO I TRYED TO LAY DOWN FOR A LITTLE BIT. NO SLEEP. I DONT THINK. I DIDNT HAVE ENOUGH WATER TO WASH MY DCV’S AND A PAIR OF BDV’S. BESIDES FOR DRINKING WATER, BUT WE HAVE TO CONSERVE IT.

LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE RUMORS. TOMORROW WE’LL BE LEAVING FOR THE IRAN/IRAQ BORDER TO DO “PEACE KEEPING” FOR 3 TO 6 mths. OTHERS SAY THAT THE 4ID (i think is what this says) GENERAL WANTS TO KEEP US HERE TILL NOV., THATS WHEN 1 CAV WILL COME TO REPLACE US. WHILE OTHERS SAY WE MIGHT LEAVE BY JUNE. NOTHINGS FOR SURE.

SMALLER RUMORS FLOATING AROUND THE SITE ARE; RAMSEY AND SFC BACON ARE SLEEPING TOGETHER. SGT SIREK HAS PLANS TO TAKE NIETO AS HIS APPRENTICE AND PADIWAN LEARNER OF THE DARK SIDE. LITTLE BLACK ARNOLD IS MILITARY INTELLIGENCE FOR SPECIAL FORCES OPERATING UNDER COVER A SURVEILLENCE AS PART OF

*the rest of the page is blank*

IM BACK. TODAY IS THE 27th. I GOT BACK TO THE LITTLE CAMP AREA ABOUT AN HOUR AND A HALF AGO. I LEFT YESTERDAY MORNING TO, WELL, AS PART OF DE-CON (DE-CONTAMINATION) MISSION. HERES THE INFORMATION THAT I GATHERED.

A SITE HAD BEEN FOUND THAT WAS THOUGHT TO HAVE CHEMICAL WEAPONS AND 1-10 WAS APPOINTED TO GO TO THE SITE AND DE-CON THE CIVILIANS THAT WERE GOING TO OPEN THEM. AS IT TURNS OUT THE CIVILIANS HAVE BEEN DE-LAYED AND WOULD BE SET BACK 1 DAY.

THE NBC TEAM THAT I WAS WITH WERENT PREPARED TO STAY OVER NIGHT AND AS FORCASTED BY SSG MINOR WE MIGHT HAVE HAD TO STAY 3 TO 4 DAYS. EVERYBODY WAS PISSED.

LATELY ITS BEEN GETTING REALLY COLD AT NIGHT AND WE JUST HAPPENED TO BE NEAR A RUNNING RIVER. SO THE, ITS ABOUT 9 O’CLOCK AND IM BEAT, NO SLEEPING BAG OR ANYTHING TO COVER UP WITH AND I DECIDE TO TRY AND SLEEP. I GET AS COMFORTABLE AS POSSIBLE AND I GET ATTACKED BY MOSQUITOS. NOW IM PISSED SO I DECIDED TO JUST TO STAY UP ALL NIGHT. ABOUT 10PM ONE OF THE HEMTT (this might just say “hemi”, I don’t know) FUELERS SHOWS UP AND SGT TORRES SAYS HE HAS EVERYBODYS SLEEPING BAG! THE SITES ABOUT 45 MINS AWAY AND THEY LEFT SOMETIME MID AFTERNOON TO GET OUR SHIT, I HATE THESE PEOPLE.

RIGHT NOW ITS 9:01 PM AND ITS 11:02 AM YOUR TIME. I MISS YOU.

RIGHT NOW IM GOING TO ADDRESS AN ENVELOPE AND HAVE IT READY TO SEND TOMMOROW THE 28th. IM SORRY IF IT SEEMS THAT IM NOT WRITING VERY OFTEN. FOR A WHILE WE COULDN’T. AND NOW THAT IT SEEMS WE MIGHT BE HERE A LITTLE WHILE, THEYVE KEPT ME REALLY BUSY. LET ME ADDRESS THE ENVELOPES (he drew a star here)

ALL DONE. I THOUGHT ABOUT THE HOUSE A LOT TODAY AND YESTERDAY. IM SURE BY THE TIME THIS LETTER REACHES YOU, YOU’LL HAVE EITHER GOTTEN IT OR GAVE IT UP. IM O.K. WITH EITHER DECISION YOUVE MADE.

YOUVE KEPT THIS FAMILY TOGETHER, AND THAT MAKES ME PROUD. YOUR SMART, ATTRACTIVE AND FUNNY. AND YOU DONT TAKE ANY SHIT FROM ANYBODY. I LOVE YOU.

I HOPE THAT OUR DAUGHTER TURNS OUT TO BE LIKE YOU.

I GUESS ILL MAIL THIS TOMORROW, FIRST THING, SO

EVER YOURS

EVER MINE

*my dad signed it with his scribble, and wrote his name under it. under that are hearts and x’s with my mom’s name and then my name under hers.*

#very personal but where the fuck am i gonna put them? you know where i kinda cant lose them?#letters from the guy that was my dad #pt 1 #long post

3 notes · View notes

thecringefailintherye · 4 years ago

Text

Melody (S.W.A.L.K) 1971 Livewatch

I have seen this movie. but not the whole thing (i got interupped the first time i watched it)... so here goes!

movie load please

20 seconds of logos???

guitar song™

this movie is so nostalgic for no reason

Mark Lester and Jack Wild: did you mean, Oliver Twist and The Artful Dodger?

and tracy hyde shes here too

i love this movie sm wtf

can these credits end????

ok yes they can

70s film marching band scene

ornshaw drinking whiskey before band bc why not

danny is bby

mY mOtHeR dId It SiR

dannys mum is so annoying wtf

i really love tom ornshaw

run bitch run

The BB™

SET FIRE TO THE NEWSPAPER???

look at his lil face ❤

MELODY MY DAUGHTER

a gowdfish please

aww look at her

“ive done all those things i wanna try something new” LIKE DRAWING TIDDIES? DANIEL

“ah a boy gave it to me at school” was it ornshaw, i bet it was ornshaw

BITCH YOU RIPPED DANNYS TITS DRAWING

melody girl you cant play that fucking recorder

this film has great cinematography wtf

Melody Perkins Deserves The World !!

the gang go to school

Ornshaw Gets Bullied

“the jewish boys may now leave for private study” what about the jewish girls?? there’s clearly girls in the class?? why do they have to listen to the bible

ornshaw’s porn bible

DOES ANYBODY KNOW WHO JESUS WAS???

dont smoke at school kids

okay so shes peggy, why is she credited as maureen. who the fuck is maureen

hear me out, muriel is a lesbian. noone kisses for over five minutes unless youre proper horny and this bitch is like thirteen. she also says “i dont know, i never used to kiss boys”, because SHE DOESNT. shes lying because she doesnt kiss boys. shes closeted and thats whys she says she does. also, she got angry at peggy for saying she fancied a boy.

W I C

“saucy turtles make terrible bathmats, charley” okay okay jeez

ornshaws accent is everything

The Gang sneaking through the fence what will they do

uh oh danny

AWH YOURE BARMY

thats def gonna explode later

ornshaw gets kicked off the bus

but now hes on it

ornshaw and danny have such a wholesome friendship too bad melody ruins it oh wait

you’ve heared of ornshaw gets kicked off the bus now get ready for... ornshaw gets kicked out of the strip club!

you cant get a taxi!!! watch me hoe

where did ornshaw get the chewing gum from wtf

“shes always talking about people like you...” OH OKAY DANNYS MUM IS CLASSIST

“he could do with a heart attack!” WOAH OKAY

time skip to school

oh no danny’s seen melody

“we have three admirers of the dance!” ah shit

ah so maureen is the girl in green

why is ornshaw just standing there

FREE YOURSELVES

the girl gang is hilarious i love them

Muriel Kisses A Tombstone

uh oh dannys been found out

“HES A COWARD CMON”

ornshaw just yeeted his cat

i hate dannys mother sm

assembly time, an iconic part of british comprehensive school, since covid, i cant say i miss it

danny and melody !!

DANNY PLAYS CELLO THIS IS IMPORTANT INFO

melody and her friend are there because plot

melody sweetie baby i love you but you cant play the recorder

THEYRE PLAYING IN HARMONY DKDJSKDJSJKK 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

this is cute as fuck

melody is babey

oh explosives time??

i just dubbed these kids ornshaw and the pyrotechnics crew and it fits

dannys parents are annoying

i quite literally hate them

DANNY SPILT HIS COKE ITS SUCH A SIN

“neviw”

melody girl are you okay

melody are you lying about getting raped

oh time skip to school

we’ve hardly seen ornshaws home life so when will we properly meet him??

god i fucking love ornshaw its mad

oh this is an iconic scene if there ever was one

“go on tom dance with her” oh the ONE TIME ornshaw is called by his first name

youre mad !!

“girls are a load of snotty nose little so and sos” ornshaw aro king

is ornshaw.. scared of women

whatddya mean i dont dance very well!?

is it bad i lowkey crackship peggy and ornshaw now

YOU DANCE STUPID!

no one:

ornshaw: kicks peggy in the shin because he cant dance

“you big fat fool” yikes

danny u ok

ALL ORNSHAW AND HIS MATES DO IS CREATE EXPLOSIVES DJDKJSKt

oh it worked for once

i feel so fucking sorry for melody wtf

bb 🥺

im at the bit where melody is crying while putting on her mothers makeup

SWEETIE ITS OKAY

OH TIME SKIP TO SPORTS DAY!

this film is so fast were already an hour in!

ornshaw giving actually solid life advice?? are you sure this is the same movie

“you youre gonna be bloody useless!”

i literally love ornshaw so much

FUCK DANNYS MUM

GO ON DANNY

YES MY BOY

time skip to school 3982903843290

wtf is a young latin scholars book

lahtimah

not ass latimer, arse

i hate the latin teacher

ornshaw every second: right uh erm um uh so yes sir oh uh mhm

*ornshaw and danny shoving pillows up their underwear*

“dont worry about it!!” dude hes getting spanked by the latin teacher ofc hes gonna worry about it

ornshaw and latimah

“vacate your mouth”

“because its a silly out of date language sir!!!” hes not wrong

uh oh

what will slapping ornshaw’s ass with a dap even gonna do???

oh hi melody forgot about you

AWH DANNY SWEETHEART

“cmon danny dont let her see you cry!” i want a friend like ornshaw man

melody is just STANDING THERE LIKE GIRL LEAVE

“you can buzz off now love, tara, tooduhloo” have i said i love ornshaw? because i love ornshaw

danny dont abandon ornshaw !!

oh this is sad

danny? danny?? danny!!!??? DANNY!!?? 🥺🥺🥺

ORNSHAW RIGHTS MAN

ive felt sorry for literally all three of these kids now

ah fuck now ornshaws having a mental breakdown in the school halls

danny and melody’s relationship is so innocent and wholesome

this is literally so bittersweet, like we’re seeing danny and melody being all cute and happy but we know that back in school ornshaw is literally having a breakdown over them

im tearing up over a movie about schoolchildren in puppy love

“will you love me that long?” “of course! ive loved you a whole week already!”

“hes come to tea! his name is daniel!” melody hes not your pet

melodys dad seems so cool why was he arrested

donald????

i genuinely love melody’s dad

melody dramatically eats toast

time skip to school AGAIN

OH GOD I’M ACTUALLY CRYING

melody and danny are out on a date having fun and its the same song playing as the scene earlier on when danny and ornshaw went off somewhere at the start of the movie, melody has quite literally replaced ornshaw

i have real tears rn

they skipped school to go to weymouth

danny and melody are literally adorable man

“shall we get married?” arent yall like 12????

oh back to school they got in trouble for skipping

apparently the poor cast got spanked for real and like yikes

we want to get married :D

ITS NOT MENT TO BE FUNNY!!

leave danny alone!

leave melody alone!

ornshaw please stop

ornshaw stop taunting him this is gonna end shittily

OH SHIT

THEYRE STRAIGHT UP FIGHTING

ORNSHAW AND DANNY ARE MF WRESTLING EACHOTHER TO THE GROUND

okay now ornshaw is literally beating him up okay

danny this is your fault for ditching him for melody sorry

top ten best anime fight scenes

latin man is back because plot

DID ORNSHAW GIVE HIM A BLOODY NOSE

i’m sorry danny 😭😭

ORNSHAW. DESERVES. THE. FUCKING. WORLD. AND. MORE.

let melody and danny get married!

wait so if 20 is twice as old as her then shes.. ten?? i think

melody ily

“all i want to do is be happy” BABY

OH FUCK YOU MRS LATIMER

oooh

THEYRE GOING TO GET MARRIED BY THE RAILWAY

ornshaws unnamed friend is the true hero of this movie

is this the movie climax???

run! ornshaws unnamed friend! run!

IM SORRY THE’RE LITERALLLY GETTING MARRIED I’M 😭

“we are gathered here today to join this man and woman in holy matrimony.. shaddup”

ITS NOT FUNNY ITS SERIOUS

IS ORNSHAW STRAIGHT UP MARRYING THESE TWO IS HE THEIR VICAR

HE IS AS WELL

“DICKS IS COMING!!!” as soon as they were getting the rings

RUN !!!!

ornshaw just threw the bible at his re teacher from the re scene at the start i love him

DANNYS MUM HAD IT COMING

name a more iconic trio than melody perkins, danny latimer, and tom ornshaw, i’ll wait

GO PEGGY!

ORNSHAWS UNNAMED FRIEND IS GONNA FINALLY GET HIS BOMB WORKING!

YES

GO ORNSHAWS UNNAMED FRIEND

“i’ll get you ornshaw!” dude how is this his fault its yours for unterupting the wedding latin man

again ouf is the true movie hero

wait latin man is dicks??? whos wannabe remus lupin then????

this just in: ouf is actually named stacey

oh god thats actually such a bittersweet ending

melody and danny trolleying off into the sunset

im actually crying like a baby rn

god that was such a good movie

#you're my melody #melody #melody swalk #swalk #s.w.a.l.k #melody 1971 #tracy hyde #mark lester #jack wild

7 notes · View notes

athina-blaine · 4 years ago

Photo

hey kids wanna see a fic preview??

(howdy! for readers of my tma fics wondering what the heck ive been up to the last month, here’s a little something for you-- yes, you! the full chapter will be posted next week)

(preview under the cut!)

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a man who wanted to save the world, and instead, nearly destroyed it.

Before he was forced to commit this great evil, the man fled-- but the failed ritual inflicted him with a terrible curse, and he concealed himself inside a dark, lonesome manor. As the years passed and the solitude ate him, he never ventured to the outside world, ever again.

But that was alright. The man preferred it this way. For there remained not one person, living or dead, who was better off for having known Jonathan Sims.

"Aren't you lonely, Mister Blackwood?"

THE MONSTER OF MAGNUS MANOR

CHAPTER 1

THE FOG

“Blackwood.”

Martin lurched upright, unfinished letter sticking to his sweaty face. Mister Griffiths was standing in the doorway, his scowl deepening by the second as Martin scrambled out of the desk chair and onto his feet.

“If you’re finished with your nap,” Griffiths snapped, “make your way down to the kitchens at once. Lord Barclay’s guests will be arriving soon.”

“Of course, sir. Sorry, sir.”

With one last, withering look, Griffiths turned on his heel out of the servants’ quarters, and Martin’s shoulders lost some of their tension. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved, or find a good rock to curl under.

At least he’d only been glared at this time.

Martin sunk back into his chair, eyelids threatening to slip shut again. Hard wicker had no right being as comfortable as it was. In all fairness, though, the cold stone floor of the refrigerator would be just as soft right now.

Peeling the letter off his cheek, he flipped it over and groaned. Oh, perfect. He’d gone and completely smudged the thing. Half his face was probably covered in a splotch of ink.

No wonder Griffiths had looked at him like he was dog shite underneath his shoe. At least the dog shite wasn’t going to be late to its shift, now.

He huffed.

At least he’d snuck in a few winks before he needed to get ready. Something was always better than nothing– even if the thick, pulsing needle driving itself through his temples disagreed. Hopefully, it would be enough to get him through today’s shift.

Especially today’s shift.

He tucked the letter underneath his pillow; he’d have to rewrite it later if he wanted it ready to send out tomorrow morning.

A new uniform was waiting for him in the communal wardrobe, one that Lord Barclay had ordered just for the occasion. His dormmates must have already grabbed theirs– aside from his, the wardrobe was empty.

Bit annoying that they hadn’t even taken the time to give him a quick tap on the shoulder. ‘Hey, Martin, rise and shine, big day today, don’t want to be late!’

Perhaps they’d figured it was best for him to sleep as much as possible. This wasn’t the day to get sloppy, after all.

Or maybe they hadn’t considered him at all.

He hoped it was the first one.

Uniform slung over his arm, Martin hurried toward the servants’ washroom. He was making good time; with any luck, Griffiths’ scowl would never graduate higher than mildly disappointed. On the scale of the head butler’s ranking displeasure, it wasn’t the worst place to be.

In his haste, however, he bumped into the shoulder of another server. Martin turned, an apology already on his lips, then paused.

“Charles?”

Charles spun around, and his eyes brightened.

“Look who decided to make their way out of bed,” he said, giving Martin’s shoulder a playful pat. “You know Jefferies is going to have your hide if he sees you like that, yeah?”

“Please don’t tell him. He’ll kill me this time, he really will.” His eyes flitted down Charles' figure, brows shooting up. “You … you’re wearing the new uniform.”

“I am, indeed. How do I look?” Charles asked, smoothing down the front of his chest. “Fetching, right?”

“I-I, uh, you …”

It was hard to get the words out. Anyone would look good in a uniform like that; that was why Lord Barclay had bought the bloody things. But the dark red jacket, white gloves, and navy tie complemented Charles’ ginger hair and smile in a way that tangled his tongue something fierce.

Martin’s face warmed, and he hoped it wasn’t obvious.

“You look wonderful,” he said. Then, face growing even hotter, “I mean, um,” he coughed, “it looks really good.”

Charles’ grin widened, and Martin had to stop himself from slapping his own face. Get it together. There was something more pressing here.

“But you’re going to start serving? Today? You’ve barely even finished your apprenticeship.”

“Griffiths needs all hands on deck. I’ll be fine. You’re such a worrywart, you know that?”

Of course Martin was worried. Charles had only been working in the castle for a few months, and Griffiths was going to have him start now? On the night of Lord Barclay’s autumn soirée?

Martin was about to remind him of that when a wave of dizziness crested over him, weakness shivering up his legs. He would have tipped over if Charles hadn’t grabbed his shoulder.

“Whoa, hey, are you okay? You’re looking a little …”

If Martin’s face was hot before, it was nothing compared to now. “Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Again?”

“I’ll be fine once I’ve had a wash up.”

Charles’ eyes lingered on him so long that Martin was sure he’d well and truly pass out. After a moment, Charles gave his shoulder a quick squeeze and withdrew.

“You’d best. Well, I need to be off. Ol’ Griffiths is on the warpath. Good luck tonight, yeah?” He winked. “Drinks on me at the pub later.”

“Y-yeah. See you.”

Martin tracked him until Charles left the room, eyes drifting on the corner where he’d disappeared until another dizzy spell swept over him.

Focus. Charles hadn’t been kidding about what Jefferies would do if he knew Martin still hadn’t changed yet.

The reminder had Martin rushing through his wash. Throwing the new uniform on was a struggle; all those foreign buttons and straps kept tangling together, and he got stuck twice before securing the last tie.

Martin paused in front of the mirror to check himself over. It was... nice enough, he supposed. The most expensive thing he’d ever worn, that was certain. Despite the custom fit, though, the torso still hugged too tight around his chest, and the material scratched at the sensitive skin on his neck.

Luckily, he’d only have to wear it tonight.

With one last glance, he smoothed down his hair and hurried out into the main hallway.

Chaos. The corridors were packed wall to wall with other servants, confused about where they should go, what they should be doing. The crowd smothered him; how had he managed to sleep through this? Now, in the thick of things, his ears were beginning to ring.

“Martin!”

Pausing, Martin scanned the sea of twisting faces. Angelica was elbowing her way through the swarm, drawing sharp cries of pain from her victims, but her expression of dogged determination didn’t change.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she said, as soon as she was within earshot. “I just wanted to say thanks for setting up the guest bedrooms last night. I would’ve been up ‘til dawn if I’d had to do it myself.”

Martin, who had finished outfitting the last of the guest quarters just as the sun was rising, smiled. “I’m glad I could help. Wasn't really fair to you, getting assigned something you aren't used to.”

She nodded in agreement, sage-like. “I swear, Griffiths is out to get me. I’d rather stay in the laundry room where I belong.” Then she reached into the pocket of her apron, pulling out a bundle of cloth. “We had apple slices for breakfast this morning,” she explained, holding the bundle out. “I saved you mine. You know, as a thank you.”

Woken by the mention of food, his stomach spasmed. He hadn’t even spared a thought for breakfast– based on the sun’s height, the servants’ meal hour had long been over.

Eyes burning, he accepted the gift. “Thanks, Angie. I really needed this.”

She beamed up at him.

From somewhere within the clamour, an authoritative voice rose up. “Come on then, to your stations!”

The tide of the crowd was pushing them apart before the last word faded. “Good luck, tonight!” Angie called as she turned to follow some of the others into the laundry room. Martin waved back to her, and once she had disappeared from view, unwrapped the cloth and bit into one of the apple slices.

Sweet and refreshing. Martin let his eyes slide shut, savouring the crispness. Thank God for Angie. There was no telling when his next meal would be; Griffiths had informed everyone last night that they wouldn't have time for their regular lunch.

He finished the last slice just as he reached the kitchens. If the hallways had been chaotic, this was a scene straight out of a nightmare. Servers were shouting orders to the kitchen staff, the kitchen staff were dancing around the servers, and everyone inched a hair's breadth away from colliding into one another. It was only through sheer level of experience on the part of the servants that they managed to avoid absolute disaster.

And in the centre of it all was Jefferies, shouting directions and helpful threats in equal measure.

“If a single one of you even so much as serves a smudged glass,” he roared, “the Lord’ll have all our heads!”

The ringing in Martin’s ears had gone from loud to stringent. Bracing against a countertop, he dragged a hand across his face.

Focus.

Plate the food, take it to the dining hall, serve. He’d done it a thousand times. This was the exact same thing.

He just needed to stay focused.

“Here, Blackwood.” One of the servers pressed a tray of champagne flutes into his hands. Taking one more bracing breath, Martin shouldered his way back into the corridors.

Time to get this over with. The frantic noises from the kitchen fell away in increments until, at last, he reached the ballroom.

#the magnus archives #tma #the magnus pod #jonmartin #fanfiction #fic #fic preview #whats a girl gotta do to get some line breaks around here

18 notes · View notes

softlyjiminie · 5 years ago

Text

call him | j.j.k [ ii ]

⇢ paring(s): jeon jungkook x reader, park jimin x reader.

⇢ word count: 3.5K.

⇢ rating: 18+, mature.

⇢ genre: angst, smut, fwb!au, college!au.

⇢ summary: jimin is yours, you are jimin’s but what does jungkook make of that?

⇢ warning(s): please read! heavy smut, cumplay, fingering, oral ( female and male recieving ), light choking, spanking, exhibitionism, master/sir kink, daddy kink, sub!reader, dom!jimin, male mastrubation, breeding kink kind of, marking, heavy degrading, swearing, unprotected sex ( wear protection please. ), ex-friends with benefits.

⇢ author’s note(s): friends! i think its been a month or two since I last posted but ive been getting ready for uni! so ive decided to try and post fanfics at least once or twice a month, anyways here's a long awaited continuation of my first smut, call him. ( update: this fic has been updated and edited as of 2020 )

⇢ parts: ( one ) ( here! ) ( final )

“friends with benefits, huh?” were the first words park jimin had spoken to you after the phone call. you’d taken his number from jungkook’s phone that night and went home almost straight away to call him for real, spending the early hours of friday morning blabbering about everything and nothing.

jimin had wanted to take you out the very next day, asking you to meet him outside of the campus coffee shop that evening. you’d arrived early of course, spying him working a shift through the window, which made you smile. jimin had always seemed like a quiet, shy boy and working at the coffee shop had suited him well. what you hadn’t expected was that very same, rather soft, looking boy to step out in some tight fitting black skinny jeans and a layered shirt after changing out of his uniform.

“wha-wha-? huh?” you asked more so to yourself than to him. he smiled, looking down at his feet as he shifted a hand through his rose tinted hair, rocking on his tip toes.

“your thing with jeon, thought we’d talk it out first before it causes bumps in our relationship, yano?” jimin shrugged, looking you in the eye this time. You must’ve looked quite flustered, since he was smirking at you cheekily.

you nodded a long with him, scuffing your boot as you shoved your sweaty fingers into your pockets to conceal them. “of course, i ended things with him...we’re cool now,” you had hummed as jimin begun to walk with you, at the time you hadn’t known where you were going but that didn’t matter. “it’s just you and i now...i guess?”

jimin then smirked, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “i guess it is.”

“mmph park jimin!” you gasp, fingers curling in his lavender sky locks so hard you swore you could smell the bleach in his roots. he smirks devilishly against your inner thigh, biting a solid seven more hickies either side before delving back into your flower to get a taste of its sweet nectar. he was like a bee, a fool of a creature following the honey duct to its alluring centre, drinking in every sound you made. “jimin!”

his glinting eyes blink up at you from over your hips, tongue lapping at your precious gem as he did so. “good morning princess, sleep well?” he teases, dancing his fingers along your naked thigh to push them further apart. the man himself had been lying on his stomach between your legs when you woke up and now he was sliding two digits over your hot centre. “so wet...”

“minnie, min...minmin baby, please... i have a lecture soon.” you whine, thrashing about a bit when jimin held your hips down slightly. he only grunts in response, slipping his tongue over your sweet lips before thumbing your clit.

“how long have we got?”

“ten minutes to shower, five to dress and if i skip makeup...ah! oh my god you brat, just let me cum!”

you growl at jimin, who wastes no more time in devouring you fully, on a mission to get you to your high. you cant help but squeal when he the plunges the two fingers past your entrance without warning, mewling as he curls them into a hook shape to stimulate that special spot. his tongue lapped loops around your bundle of nerves in a sloppy cycle and the combined movements make you call out his name as your release crashes over you in record time, after shocks of bliss pooling through your veins.

“what a perfect start to the day, i don’t think i even need to make breakfast.” jimin hummed, as he helps you up, the remains of your previous orgasm painting his chin. you roll your eyes at him as you stand with shaky legs, but your boyfriend being ever the gentleman guides you to your feet and spanks your ass when you make a move for the bathroom. “perfect view too.”

“park jimin, you’re insatiable.” you remind him, before slinking off into the shower to quickly prepare yourself for the lectures ahead. the spring haired boy only grins again, having no classes until later.

“and you love me for it!”

you flip him the middle finger.

the walk to your lecture is pretty quick despite the quiver in your legs and you believe you can make it within fifteen minutes of starting. your thoughts trickle off into the last six months, in which you had spent with jimin.

after ending things with jungkook, you found yourself falling quickly for the boy with lilac hair, his crescent moon eyes and soft smile effortlessly drawing you in. jimin was sweet and caring, had a tender heart and was everything you could have ever needed. jimin had never pressured you, waited until you were ready for anything (especially being intimate.) and was overall the first boyfriend you’d felt happy with. spending time with jimin made you realise that you didn’t have many friends outside of jungkook, even your ex-roommate didn’t like you that much. your boyfriend had introduced you to his little circle of people, and you’d really grown into yourself.

sliding into the lecture hall, you took your seat midway through the rows, making sure you had a good enough view of the front. you pulled out your computer to start up your notes, noticing the sticky note jimin had left you on its top.

‘lunch at noon? my treat, my sweet <3’

you giggled at the message, tucking it into your notebook and shoot jimin a quick text to let him know where your class was. it soon started up, causing everyone else to resume their seats and take out their belongings. you looked down, only for a moment to shove your phone into your pocket when a familiar scent filled your nostrils. the smell of fresh leather and a soft fruits, you shifted uncomfortably instantly recognising the person instantly.

“YN!” a voice to your right called, the owner beaming down at you as they sat. your shoulders relaxed slightly as you met their gaze, offering a smile of your own.

“morning yoongi, you seem chipper today.” you chuckled as you noted the large coffee the man had gathered along his belongings. whilst yoongi was majoring in sound technology, he had decided to take a semester of psychology to boost his appeal to employers and also have something to fall back on just in case. “what’s in your coffee?”

he grinned at you, handing you the cup for you to take a sip. you grimaced after with a shake of your head. “vodka.”

“you’re annoying.”

yoongi only smiled a gummy smile in response, mischief sparking in his eyes much like his best friend, jimin. the rest of the class passed easily, notes being taken and ideas being shared. although, the end had come to a halt as your professor handed out your midterm assignments.

a partner project.

and of course, your partner had to be... “jeon jungkook and YN LN, your assignment is to be based on plasticity and recovery of brain function. i have high expectations of you ms LN.”

you nod sheepishly at your professor, turning to face jungkook shortly after, unsure of how to approach the situation. “we should probably meet up to make arrangements for this.” he mutters when you finally make eye contact, his dark hair is much longer and curlier than you remember as it falls just under his brow bone. his face is fuller which shows he’s been eating well, but there’s a slightly more grown look to him. older. “are you free for lunch?”

you shake your head. “no, i have plans.”

“i see,” jungkook nods, catching his bottom lip between his teeth as he eyes you up and down and you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. that was something he always did when he wanted you, and whilst it’d turn you on before, it now made you feel gross and dirty, only jimin had that heated effect on you now. “i’ll text you then?”

“sure, i can give you my number?” you answer his question with your own, a guilty throb in your chest when a disappointed look crosses his face.

“i never deleted it.” jungkook sighs, standing abruptly to leave the lecture hall. there was nothing keeping him behind since those who were paired were allowed to go. you bit your lip, flustered at his cold and awkward behaviour. you wondered if he knew about yourself and jimin, he must’ve if neither of you had reached out to one another. truth be told you had blocked jungkook’s number after you began to date jimin, just to make sure the two relationships never overlapped. he’d never texted you though.

you pack up the rest of your things without bothering to wait for yoongi, a tired frown slipping over your face before you catch jimin outside your class room. a bright smile grew on his lips as he noticed you, the friends he had with him turning to face you as well. you couldn’t help but skip into his arms, throwing your own around his neck as he hoisted you up by the waist.

“afternoon, princess.” he smirked against your ear, pressing a kiss to the spot under there. “how was your lecture?”

you chose to pout, nuzzling into him instead. “terrible, i hated every second of it.” you complained into his skin as he rubbed your back, soothingly.

jimin frowned as he pulled away from you ever so slightly, taking a quick glance over your features before locking his gaze on you. “and why’s that?”

you shook your head right as yoongi crawled out from the depths of the lecture hall, a tired and bored expression painted on his face whilst he shrugged his back pack over one shoulder.

“she’s upset because he got paired with that jungkook kid on her latest psych project, i think he’s in our class for some extra credit.” he answered in a nonchalant tone, moving over to swing his arm around his boyfriend seokjin. that was quite a sight to see, since the blonde male was much shorter than the other. jimin’s other friends; namjoon and taehyung only rolled their eyes at the shorter’s antics.

jimin frowned as he let his lips brush your forehead, holding you close as if you were to slip away. “if he bothers you, baby...” your boyfriend started, a possessive tone flickering in his voice as he held you. “you let me know right away, yeah?”

you nodded, blinking in his grasp as he lead you off to lunch. “right away.”

taehyung had chosen a local noodle bar owned by a small old lady and her husband for lunch. it was a little ways from the university campus, but your small group of friends liked to think of it as your smaller hideout. only a handful of students knew about it.

you had shuffled over to the counter to pick up some extra napkins, your boyfriend being a particularly messy eater. the girl behind the counter had actually been the granddaughter of the old couple, who’d come over from the states to connect with her roots. you remained chatting away with her for a while when her gaze shifted over to a customer waiting beside you.

“i’ll have your order to go out in a moment, sir.” she bid politely with a nod, smiling at the customer as she slid off to the kitchen.

“no worries,” jungkook mumbled, to your surprise. you hadn’t been expecting to find him here, especially with the exclusiveness of this place. “so this is where you came instead of planning for our project.”

you frowned, chewing on your bottom lip as your feet remained rooted in place. the boy had a lazy smirk that would have made your heart flutter if it weren’t for the fact that you were utterly in love with your lavender haired boyfriend tucked away in the bathroom. “are you following me?” you blurted out, not even thinking. you internally cringed as you watched a sour expression fall over the taller boy’s face. another slip up.

“we came here during freshman year,” jungkook furrowed his brows with a quiet voice. “y’know, when we were still friends.”

you flinched, eyes scrunching shut. “jungkook-“

he waved a hand as the girl came back with a plastic bag of warm food, the smell instantly telling you it was his favourite spicy noodles. “if you’re here alone, i’d really like to talk about how we can split the project up so we can start it sooner.”

you blinked, mind reeling at the change of subject and how easily he could mask up his hurt. you shrugged.

“well actually, im not alone right now but-“

“but she’s with me, her boyfriend, park jimin.” your boyfriend hummed, a hint of hostility in his tone as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him. jungkook only eyed the latter male up and down with an unimpressed look, but his deep doe eyes only told you how hurt he was. because you’d been best friends up until this point, the last six months being spent in jimin’s arms instead of his. “did you need anything, kook?”

“no, i was just leaving.” the younger seethed back and glanced down at jimin, being half a head taller. you felt his eyes waver over you as jungkook moved to brush past you.

jimin growled, seemingly not liking the way that the younger was looking at you, opting the grab him by the wrist, much to your surprise. “watch yourself around my girlfriend, alright jeon?

the younger nodded, pulling his arm from your boyfriend’s grip before shooting you a glare that sent a slight pang to your heart. as soon as he was gone you felt jimin ease up beside you, his whisky orbs fluttering over your face to check if you were alright.

“you okay baby?” he hummed, standing before you to brush hair back from your face. you nodded in response, pushing the napkins into jimin’s chest with a small frown as he held you. “if he bothers you again, make sure to tell me, i’ll take care of it.”

you sighed, ignoring the flash of guilt that struck you when looking at jungkook walk away. before all this he had been your best friend, and you’d let him slip away from you. “thank you minnie, i love you.”

the lavender haired boy kissed your cheeks gently, smiling at you as he pulled away. his brightness distracting you from the hurt in your heart. “and i adore you, baby.”

the following week you’d arranged to meet up with jungkook in the library, a series of texts and awkward encounters had gotten you there. now you sat alone in your favourite corner, nose buried deep into a book on stem cells for brain recovery. the brightness of the world seemed to disappear as a pair of hands covered your eyes.

“guess who?” jungkook mumbled, his warm breath tickling at the nape of your neck, causing the hairs their to stand on end. your body jolted in response, memories of your earlier times together flashing like light bulbs in your mind. and the dark haired boy seemed to tune in with that, signified with a deep chuckle.

he slid down into the seat beside you, allowing you to stutter out a greeting as he pulled out his books. a silence settles between you as you start to read more, taking a few notes here and there with scribbles of how to present the information. humming, you turn to jungkook ready to explain an idea, before jumping when you notice how close he is.

“hey princess,” the boy slurs, his doe eyes sparkling brightly as he looked over at you. you shifted a little away from him, smelling the alcohol from his breath. “you’re so cute.”

you frowned. “jungkook...are you drunk?”

he blinked with a big smile, leaning over you a bit more and invading your personal space. “needed something to take the edge off before i came here,” the boy mumbled, twirling a finger in your hair “didn’t know if your boyfie with the stick up his ass would be here or not...”

“just get some work done, kook.” you frowned at jungkook, who became increasingly affectionate yet insulting of your boyfriend, the alcohol in his system making him more honest. at some point you’d managed to get him into some work but it wasn’t long until he was bothering you again.

“YN-ie, you smell so good...” the boy mumbled, throwing his head into the crook of your neck. you felt your body freeze at the closeness, an intimate position that would have once made you flustered to no end. times of heated rendezvous in the backs of study rooms sparking in your mind. jungkook’s lips were inches away from your sweet spot, ghosting along the scopes of your neck with faded familiarity.

“jungkook...”

“missed having you this close, baby.”

you held your breath and mentally cursed yourself for letting jungkook get so close, letting your guard down. with a bitten lip, you pried the boy away from your frame, only to be caught off guard when he gripped your wrist and tugged you into him. “kook, you’re drunk...” you tried to reason with him, alarm bells ringing in your head as you tried to tug away from him once again. “please let’s just work yeah?”

he chuckled, low and deep as he locked his dark eyes with yours and sent a shiver down your spine. “you were always trying to resist me, kitten, bet the only thing holding you back now is your prissy little boyfriend-“

smack.

the sound cracks through the silence of the library and a flurry of shocked gasps followed through with it. holding your hand close to your chest, you looked over at jungkook who stared back at you with equal shock. his own hand cupped his reddened cheek, his mouth slightly agape.

your bottom lip wobbled as you quickly gathered your things, humiliated at the thought of even hurting jungkook despite what he had said about your boyfriend. blinking away your tears, you stepped back with your bag and shook your head with a whisper. “i’ll finish this in my own...just stay away from me...”

and with that you fled from the scene.

“uh huh, yeah, i think she just got home, alright...later!”

you stumbled through the door of your apartment, exhausted, deciding to march away your tears before you got home to jimin. you watched him approach you as you dumped your belongings onto the table to finish off your project. he wraps his arm around your waist from behind and kisses the back of your neck once near.

“hey beautiful, project go well?” jimin sighed into your skin as he clung to you, letting you work slightly (but not without kissing that spot near where jungkook had touched you earlier.). you shrugged in response, shivering as you remembered the rest of the day. “seokjin hyung wants to know if you wanna go out tonight, a new bar just opened up and-“

you spun quickly in jimin’s arms, praying that he couldn’t read your face like he always did. you’d already had enough gone wrong today. “minnie, i have a quite a bit left to do tonight so could you give me a few hours?” you shrugged his hands off your waist, instantly missing his touch that masked the feel of jungkook’s from earlier. “just, not tonight.”

your boyfriend frowned, keeping one hand on your waist and the other sifting through his coloured locks. it wasn’t like you to brush him away like that, nor reject a night out with some of your best friends. nonetheless, jimin released you fully and allowed you to slide into your seat and type away. he took a glance over your shoulder to peek at your notes, noticing that not even half the work had been done despite knowing your plans to split the load with your partner.

he frowned deeper. “what did jungkook do?” your typing paused as an icy chill moved over your body, your boyfriend instantly detecting the change in attitude.

“nothin’.”

“baby, you know you can’t lie to me.” jimin said sternly, irritation seeping into his tone. you flinched ever so slightly before jimin engulfed you in a soft hug, instantly regretting it. you knew he wasn’t mad at you, but instead what had happened to you. “did that kid hurt you? did he bail on you? did he...touch you?”

“he was drunk and barely did any work and-“ you whimpered tiredly as jimin held you closer, wanting nothing more to wash jungkook off of you and bask in your boyfriend. “he touched me...and he started insulting you and i-“ you could barely finished, curling into your boyfriend, who only tried to control his angry demeanour. you knew he was pissed and wanted nothing more than to destroy your old friend but all you wanted was for him to take your mind off things. “please just make me forget...”

you watched with innocent eyes as a dark cloud stormed through jimin, his lips parted as he wet them with his tongue. “what did you say?”

you felt yourself keen into a submissive stance, falling into the game yourself and jimin played. the slightest of things making him click, ready to move his piece across the board. you let your gaze lock with his, the dullness of submission creeping into your eyes.

“please make me forget, sir.”

jimin chuckled lowly, ghosting his finger tips over your supple cheeks and tilting your jaw to make you look up at him. “are you ordering me around, angel?” he hummed, tilting his own head to the side to get a better look at you. “the little attention whore, telling me...what to do? after you let that filthy boy put his hands on you?”

his words were harsh but spoken with a soft tone and a delicate touch that trickled down to your throat before gripping it lightly and forcing you to stand. jimin backed you into the nearest wall, other hand caging you in. “i’m not your daddy or your jungkook little one, you don’t get to order me around.”

“yes sir,” you whispered, a small moan starring in the back of your throat. jimin only smirked, releasing your throat as he kissed you lazily. tongues playing togetherness a heated dance.

excitement tugged at your heartstrings as you bit at his lips, heat pooling between your legs. you wanted nothing more than for jimin to claim you and make you forget everything about jungkook. you only wanted jimin. the man himself let his hot mouth move sloppily from your lips, ascending down your jaw and to your neck. teeth nipping at the sensitive skin where he could show you off as his.

“i’ll mark you right here, so everyone knows who you belong to, baby.” he hummed, tracing his tongue over each mark before he hauled you over his shoulder and head for your shared bedroom.

placing you down gently, jimin shrugged off his shirt to reveal his toned dancers body from his minor classes, he kissed you once with adoring eyes before kissing a trail down your clothed stomach. “what to do with you, what would help you forget baby?”

whining as jimin pushed your hips down to stop you from rutting into him. he pushed up your shirt, ghosting his fingertips over your exposed skin. “fingers...hands...” you couldn’t make up your mind as jimin flipped you over, landing on his back with ease.

“how about face?” he mumbled, pushing your hips over his face to the point where your thighs rested either side of his head. with a tentative touch he pushed your panties to the side, hot tongue drawing a stripe along the length of your heat. wetness gushed from within, causing your boyfriend over moan into your slickness. “your pretty little pussy tastes so good.”

you gripped his hair as your hips moved on their own accord, rutting against jimin’s tongue slipped and slid inside you and over your clit. whining, loudly you pressed your head on the head of your shared bed, loving the feeling of jimin’s hands forcing you forward over his eager mouth. you felt him hesitate at the vibration of your phone from your discarded pants, but your moans urged him on.

“minnie...” you sighed into the air, tossing your head back and ignoring the vibrations again. a harsh slap to your ass, caused you to fall forward on the bed frame. “uh-oh my god!”

jimin pulled himself from drawing patterns over your clit with his tongue to remind you. “you address me as your fucking master or sir, babygirl, don’t forget your fucking place.” he reprimanded with a pinch to your ass. your phone beeped again. with an impatient growl, jimin yanked your phone from your clothes after pushing you face first over his knees, your head in his lap and your ass in his face. a lazy finger made its way past your entrance with practised ease, your dripping arousal allowing jimin to slide in better.

you gasped out, breath heavy as he slowly pounded your crying hole with one finger, curling it slightly. like you had been trained to do, you pawed at jimin’s growing erection as you whined. almost begging for permission to touch him. your boyfriend looked down at you with a stoic face as he held your phone with his other hand, dark eyes granting you permission to pull down his clothes and get at his solid length.

“it’s jungkook.” he stated, adding another finger to the mix, curling and brushing at the spot that made your thighs quiver and essence drip down your legs. “he says he’s sorry, how cute. he wants to make it up to you. wants to see you right now.” jimin’s tone was even and straight, nothing compared to the wobbly whines of ‘please’ and ‘master’. “if only he knew how beautifully pathetic you looked right now babydoll, drooling over master’s cock.”

you couldn’t help but whine at the mix of degradation and praise, rolling your hips back into his hand as you dribbled over his lap, using the slick of your hand to tug at his length. the lavender haired boy chuckled, holding out your phone to unlock before typing away. “maybe he’d like to see...”

grasping jimin’s, now bare legs, you moaned as he pumped his fingers within your heated core. the simple suggestion had you fluttering around the man’s digits, the thought of jungkook seeing how pathetic you were for jimin and not him. a click of the camera behind you had you pausing, hesitant eyes catching with jimin’s. “you don’t mind if i send him a little something, darling, is that okay?” he asked with a soft tone, returning to your fluffy and bright smiled boyfriend. you only nodded, wiggling your hips as a sign for him to continue. “of course you wouldn’t, dirty girl.”

instead of granting you such satisfaction, jimin pulled his fingers from your slick heat, smacking them down on your ass cheek heavily as to elicit the long and almost pornographic moan from between your parted lips. “turn around for me doll, i wanna see your pretty face.” jimin mumbled, helping you rotate to sit in his lap once more, bare length brushing up against your overstimulated bundle of nerves. you quivered in your position, letting jimin send off the text to jungkook’s contact. the lavender haired boy set the phone down, locking his dark eyes with yours as he pushed his slick fingers between your lips. “suck.”

you wasted no time cleaning off his fingers, tasting yourself in on your tongue. “tastes good, master.” you simpered, smiling as jimin cooed praises at your work. his other hand traced small patterns down your skin, darting across the small of your back and igniting a fire within. your belly filled with butterflies when jimin pawed at your hips, gently pulling you back and forth against his hardening girth. “feels good too...”

the smirk on your boyfriend’s face had you rutting back against him, jaw running slack as jimin guided you. small gasps escaped his lips as your paces increased, the air between you heating up as your lips met in passionate kisses. tongues swirled as hips moved and lips smacked and moans were made. you couldn’t help but be a little bold as jimin threw his head back, lips trailing down to make your possessive mark on his neck, biting down hard. he was yours and you were ready for him to make you his.

“we got a text back baby...” jimin moaned as you sucked on his sweet spot, you loved it when he was vocal instead of growling and huffing. he tugged you away slightly, letting you lick over his newfound bruise to show you the message.

‘YN..., what’re you doing-?’

the text read, but you were too far gone to think of a response an orgasm building up just from rutting against your boyfriend. puffs of air left your lips and jimin chuckled darkly, hinting at you to use your words. “w-what...oh m-what should i say master?”

thumbing your clit for a second, jimin shifted himself to position his length at your entrance, his cock lubricated with the endless wetness from your heat. whimpering, you eased yourself down onto him with fingers tangled in the wet of his hair from where he had started to sweat. “can i take another picture baby?” jimin mumbled, hands hips settling on your hips as you both adjusted. you only nodded, resting your head on his shoulder to catch your breath. “i need words YN.”

“yes, yes you can.” you agreed breathlessly, the feeling of being so full sending you into a mindless state. jimin kissed your cheek as he pushed you to sit up, snapping a picture of where your bodies met and sending it off to jungkook.

“good girl.” your boyfriend chuckled, thrusting up into you experimentally, loving how you whines and gripped onto him tighter.

meanwhile, jungkook could feel himself hardening in the basketball shorts he’d thrown on, the fabric becoming too tight for him to breathe comfortably. his eyes whisked over the text over and over again, thumbs hovering over the keyboard whilst he looked over the image. YN, his YN, back arched perfectly with her mouth open in what would’ve been a soft whimper. he could almost imagine the sound, the feel of her squeezing around his thick length and not his.. not jimin’s.

‘she’s doing so good for her master, sitting on his cock like a good little slut.’

“fuck.” the boy whispered, carding a hand through his curling locks as he bit his lip. his hand begun to dance down his bare chest to the waistband of his shorts as he thought up a reply. before he knew it, the small dots indicating typing had popped up, a second message coming through.

‘can’t think of a reply? such a shame, i wanted to play daddy.’

the male felt his hips buck up into his hand involuntarily at the pet name, his desire for YN growing at an increasing rate. he wondered if she still felt the same, wet and pulsating around his cock. jungkook moaned slightly, finally allowing himself to lightly fist his length with the precum dripping from its tip.

clouded by lust he did the unthinkable, only hoping he wasn’t overstepping the boundaries.

the phone rang loudly as jimin gripped your hips, thrusting up wildly with dark eyes as you matched his pace. mouths wide out open with heavy breaths and the sounds of skin slapping on skin resonating throughout the room.

you paid no mind whilst jimin’s hand left your hip to fiddle with the device, focusing on the tight knot that was building in your core. you’d buried your face in jimin’s neck not too long ago, enjoying the feeling marking him as yours. your boyfriend tapped your back slightly, signifying for you to lean back and bounce your hips in tune with his. “isn’t she gorgeous?” jimin chuckled, and you faltered.

“fuck, she’s so fucking beautiful...”

you heard jungkook’s voice emanating from the screen, suddenly aware of what was happening. a facetime call. your boyfriend must of sensed your hesitance, shielding your frame from the camera’s view before kissing you sweetly, eyes asking for permission to continue. you nodded your head, it was nothing you couldn’t handle. jimin smiled brightly, slowly bringing the camera back to you as you regained your composition and pace. all you had to do was please him.

jimin blinked up at you tenderly, grinning at how beautiful his girl was all for him. knowing that jungkook could only watch and never touch what was his. “why don’t you tell daddy thank you, since he praised you so nicely.”

you heard yourself and jungkook groan slightly in unison and it pleased you to know how much of an affect you still hand on him. it made you feel powerful. “thank you daddy...” you whined as jimin latched onto one of your nipples to give the latter boy a show and you felt your ego inflate when jungkook let out a soft whimper in response. “are you touching yourself daddy?”

you managed between breathy moans, jimin making a canvas of your chest and neck as his lips smirked against your skin. his girl, ever the tease.

“yes baby, fuck...all for you.” jungkook moaned at the view, leaning back to show his large hand wrapped around his pulsing cock, the head burning a bright red with excitement. your centre tingled around your boyfriend’s own length at the image, a lewd noise coming from where you both met as more of your slick gushed out.

“i bet you’d like it if she was the one pleasuring you, kook,” your boyfriend mumbled, handing you the phone so that he popped into view. reminding jungkook of his presence. “her mouth, her hands...her cute little pussy.”

you moaned with each word, the knot in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter, knowing it would spur both men on. “god, please minnie...more!”

the lavender haired male growled lowly, spanking your ass twice as he rutted into you fast and hard. “that’s master to you.”

“spank her again, please.” jungkook demanded over the phone, causing jimin to work himself harder against you, the head of his cock hitting that spot that made you collapse on top of him. his palm smacked down against your left cheek again, and then your right with slightly less force. you slumped against him as he used your throbbing, soaking hole, drooling onto his shoulder as his length drilled into you, almost splitting you into two. “fuck that’s it, what a brainless slut.”

you whimpered, pulling jimin’s hair and scratching at his back so hard you almost broke skin. you could see on the phone, that you were so desperately holding, that jungkook was nearing his high, his hips stuttering as he drove his girth up into his fist. slick sounds of his wet length poured from the phone as you watched with a salivating mouth. “m-master...kook’s gonna cum...” you barely managed, clinging to jimin for dear life as he took you how he wanted.

“you gonna cum for her kook? cum all over your hand like a horny teenager just for her?” jimin teased. the younger only nodded, too far gone to even control the grunts and moans of your name. “would you cum on her face? let her clean it off with her tongue like the filthy baby she is?”

“shit, YN...feels so fucking good...wanna cum in your pretty little hole...fuck princess.” the raven haired boy whispered, squeezing his length as if it was you clenching around him. you moaned along with him, just to send him over the edge when jimin suddenly pushed you down onto your back, pulling out of you slightly and grabbing the phone from your grip.

he gently teased your entrance with the head of his cock, not quite slipping in, and not quite pulling out. he flipped the camera to show jungkook your worn out and frazzled state. messy hair and puffy lips. watery eyes and sweaty skin. to jungkook, you looked absolutely beautiful. just like how you did on the days where he’d spend hours ravishing your body. the days when you were his.

“you see her, jungkook,” jimin mumbled, gently thrusting into you as you sighed. his pace was much slower than before and from over the phone you could see the softness in his eyes. “you see my beautiful YN, she’s mine and no matter what you do, she’ll always be mine. mine to kiss, mine to love, mine to fuck. her heart? it belongs to me. this pussy?” jimin rolled his hips into yours slowly, allowing you to feel every inch of him, letting him fill you up to the brim and feel him all the way in your fingertips. “mine. and i want you to remember, after this, she’ll always be thinking of me, moaning for me, cumming for me. it’ll be me. not you. remember that.”

and with that, your boyfriend cut off the video call, throwing the phone elsewhere on the bed as he collapsed on top of you. your let your legs wrap around his waist as he took you deeper, sensual longing thrusts taking you closer and closer to unraveling the knot. “you’re mine baby, always mine.” he grunted, hips snapping against yours as your fingers tangled into his sweaty locks.

“im always yours, no one else’s minnie.” you gasped back, throwing your head back for him to kiss at your neck sloppily. he continued on, both of you meeting in a messy dance of lips and limbs, jimin never slowing down as his thrusts lost their rhythm.

he pressed his face further into your neck after kissing you sweetly, fingers trailing between your bodies to thumb at your clit. “i love you so much, YN, please...cum with me.”

you locked your gaze with him, eyes full of love and adoration. feeling him twitch within your tight walls, you nodded softly, brushing the hair from his eyes. “i love you even more.”

jimin pressed his lips to yours, tongue swiping at their entrance to dance with your own as the first few spirts of his seed filled you. the tangled mess of knots in your stomach finally unwinded as your sweetness released onto his cock. white flashed behind your eyes and all you could see was him, feel was him and love was him. nothing and no one could compare to the way jimin made you feel, your juices mixing together as jimin gently thrust into you, mumbling nothing but sweet praises as he kissed you over and over.

you lay tangled together for a moment or so before your boyfriend pulled his softening cock from the mess between your thighs and rolled off of you, you were left without his warm for only a second before he pulled you into his arms to spoon you.

you blinked at him, lacing your pinkies as you rested in his embrace. “hi.” you smiled.

“hi baby,” he grinned back, kissing your nose gently. “are you alright? i didn’t hurt you did i? was i okay?”

you hushed jimin with a squeeze of his pinky, nearing him as close as you could in his already tight hold. you kissed his cheek before taking it into your palm and rubbing it softly, heart swelling at how he leaned into your touch. “you were amazing, more than okay...perfect, you’re always so good to me, jiminie.” you reassured him. “i love you so much.”

“you’re always perfect for me...” he added, placing a hand over yours as he gazed at you lovingly. “im sorry for bringing jungkook into this i...i don’t know what came over me.”

you chuckled slightly, pressing a kiss to one of the many bruises that littered his neck. jimin was always shy after sex, and truth be told it was one of the many things you loved about him. he was always tender with you. even when adding jungkook to the mix he made sure that you were okay with it every step of the way, that was why you were so comfortable going through with it.

“jimin, my love, i didn’t mind at all, you made me feel so good and loved i didn’t even notice him and besides, he won’t tell anyone, especially after you blue-balled him.” you explained with a smile, nuzzling into your boyfriend not a moment later. jimin giggled in response, kissing your hair as he nodded along with you.

“well i didn’t want him to see how pretty my baby looks when she cums for me!” the boy whined in a childlike manner, pink lips jutting out in a pout as he hid his face in your neck to hide his blush. you only rolled your eyes in response, heart swelling with love for your boy. you stayed cuddling for a while longer before jimin decided to run you both a hot bath to clean up.

you spent the night giggling away, with stolen kisses and take out food on the couch, not a care in the world and not a doubt in your mind. you loved park jimin, you were in love with him and nothing could change that.

not even jeon jungkook, you’d hoped.

532 notes · View notes