#still I hope some people enjoy this silly little au idea

[evermoreal]

here’s some more outlaw!au <3 thank u guys sm for all the love u showed on the first part of this. makes me so happy knowing people enjoyed the silly little idea that’s been terrorizing my brain.

the ride was long and wearisome. the adrenaline, like milk left on the counter, quickly began to sour into terror.

after gaz tied your hands behind your back and handed you off to a grinning price, he’d positioned you over the saddle of his horse — a broad, chestnut roan — climbing behind and wrapping his arms around you to steer the thing. his chest was shoved against your back, holsters poking against your spine and suffocating you in with an unappealing cocktail of leather, tobacco, dirt, and blood.

beyond lessons as a child, you’d never ridden a horse — not how they did, at least. the gnarled terrain made for a rough ride, and within the hour your thighs began to ache. you kept quiet, listening instead to the trotting of hooves and the sporadic remarks thrown between the men.

the men who now held your life, your will, in their hands.

you’d done your very best not to think about it — tried not to think about anything at all. you’d kept your gaze on the passing wilderness, studying the shapes of trees and wildflowers, imagining what lay beyond. the shadows, the shrubbery. coyotes, perhaps. foxes and deer.

it could only keep you occupied for so long. the silence pressed in, and it clawed it’s way to the forefront of your mind.

the gunshot still echoed off the walls of your skull.

“yer shakin’, swee’eart.” price’s breath was warm against your throat, and his voice was rough. “havin’ regrets, are we?”

swallowing whatever fretful sound that tried to escape, you answered honestly: “no, sir.”

“sir.” his tone was mocking, edged with a low chuckle. “so polite. how could a sweet thing like you be so willing to kill, hm?”

your breath shook, and you knew he’d heard it, no matter how much you hoped he didn’t. “i didn’t kill him,” you said. “you did. sir.”

“oh, lovey. i was jus’ holdin’ the gun — you told me where to aim.” his chest flexed against you as he heaved a sigh. “all i wanted was the money. without yer insistence, poor fellow’d still be ‘live an’ breathin’.”

the words knocked something loose. for all intents and purposes, you were a killer.

and worse, no matter how desperately you search, you could not find any regret.

“tha’s right,” he murmurs, as if you’d voiced the thoughts aloud. calloused fingers grip your chin, turning your face towards his. a light spattering of dirt covered his face, crawling along his crows feet and laugh lines. “just like us, ain’t you? dressin’ y’up in this pretty little outfit can’t change wha’s underneath.” he tugged at your dress. “‘s a good thing we found ye, ain’t it? what if ye’d made it to yer honeymoon an’ he’d tried to touch you? what would you have done?”

uselessly, you tried to pull away. price held firm, gripping you tightly. “answer me, sweet thing. what would ye have done?”

an ache had begun to thrum along the side of your throat; his fingers were calloused and tight around your jaw. your breathing was jagged around your words: “i wouldn’t have — i wouldn’t have let him.”

“no?” his voice was softer, like he was pleased. “how would you have stopped him?”

the terror was red-hot, and the acceptance was a balm. “he keeps — kept — a gun in the closet. no matter where we were staying.”

“yeah?” though he didn’t release your chin, his grip gentled, and he traced his thumb back and forth along your jaw. “you ever shot a gun before, love?”

“no,” you answered. “i’ve watched my father load them enough times, though.”

his lips had curved ever so slightly, and his eyes had softened, like you were proclaiming your love for him instead of explaining how you’d planned to kill a man.

“you’d have made such a mess,” he said tenderly, gently. “you don’t know the first thing about gettin’ rid of a body. his blood would’ve been everywhere, swee’eart. all over this pretty face, these clothes.” his thumb traced your bottom lip. “y’don’t have ta worry ’bout that now, though. y’ve got us for that, yeah?”

as his eyes bore into yours, brimmed with something you couldn’t quite read, you belatedly realized he wanted an answer. though your mouth had gone dry and a heavy pit had formed in your stomach, you nodded along to his words, murming a quiet, “yes,” before you could think any better of it.

[badasbebi]

imagination's curse

navigation

✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

✦ summary: you long for excitement in your mundane life, until you are suddenly visited by a strange, beautiful woman who upends your world and thrusts you into a whirlwind of pleasure and danger.

✦ genre/au: smut (MDNI!!), succubus!bada, basically pwp

✦ word count: 6k

✦ warnings: probably has grammatical/spelling errors, mentions of demons and occult activities, top!bada (she's doing all the work), fingering, cunnilingus, bit of thigh riding, y/n is a weakling, somebody dies (or do they?)

✦ a/n: this is very different from other fics I've written, in genre and length, because after watching bebe's imagination video on repeat, i decided to temporarily drop the other fic i was working on to write this! we will be getting back to the more simple (and long) fics I've written before, but i hope you guys still enjoy this in the meantime! i purposely left this open-ended in case i, or you guys, wanted to see a continuation of this story at some point. lmk if that would be of interest to y'all!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Beyond the restaurant windows, rain pounds against the earth. The rhythmic drumming of the rain lulls you into a trance-like state, eyes glossing over and body becoming numb. The soft jazz music coming from the speakers overhead only enhances your drowsiness, making you melt into your seat like heated wax. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand and stare out at the street, watching cars pass by and disappear into the darkness. Your eyelids become heavy and you blink, attempting to bring your attention back to the real world, and, probably most importantly, the person in front of you. 

You sigh, slouching forward in your chair. Your date, Seolhyun, has been droning on for the last twenty minutes about her schoolwork. Her mouth is moving, but your mind isn't registering her words. You can't bring yourself to care. She seems somewhat nice, and she's devastatingly pretty, but those were about the only two qualities of value that you could conjure up. This wouldn't have been so bad, if this date hadn't essentially turned into a one-sided conversation she was having with herself.  You don't think you've said more than three words since the both of you sat down.

"Like, nursing is so boring and depressing. I don't get why so many people are into it," she says, taking a bite of her food. "I want to do something interesting and fresh, like, modeling, or something. Or, maybe I'll switch my major to art. I take really good pictures of my friends. Isn't there a photography concentration in the arts program?"

Seolhyun looks over at you expectantly, waiting for your input. You have no idea what the answer is, so you just shrug and give her a fake, tight-lipped smile. 

"Yeah, you know what? I think I'm gonna talk to my advisor tomorrow. It's just that my dad is the problem. Whenever I talk to my dad he's like, nooooo. That's not what I've been sending you money for. He's so old fashioned."

"Oh," you respond, your voice monotone. There is a part of you that can't help but feel a little bad about zoning out and ignoring her, but you've had your fill of boring conversations about family and school and life aspirations. This was nothing new. 

She slams one of her hands on the table, making you jump so high you nearly knock your glass of water over. 

"And it's silly because he's the one who wanted me to go to college sooo badly, so how are you going to complain about paying for it? Its like—and not to sound like a cunt—we do pretty well for ourselves. I don't need to be the moneymaker! I get he wants me to be the head nurse at the hospital he owns, but honestly, fuck that hospital. Fuck the patients too!" she continues, her voice raised loud enough to capture the attention of  the nearby tables. You can feel their eyes on you, and a wave of embarrassment washes over you. You glance around the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone, slowly sliding down in your seat.

 "He's just...he's such a hardass. Doesn't let me do anything. It's a real shame," she finishes, huffing in annoyance.

You nod. "Right, it is a real shame." you mumble, still avoiding others' judgemental gazes. 

She doesn't seem to notice how uncomfortable you've become, or the attention that she's gathering. Instead, she grins."I know! I'm so glad you get it."

The only thing you're getting is murderous. You needed to get out of here, quickly. As if hearing your internal cries for help, the waiter appears, asking if the two of you would like to see the dessert menu. You shake your head.

"Oh, no. Just the check please," you say, glancing up at him.

Seolhyun nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'm done. This salad was kinda trash. No offense. Sorry." She picks up her napkin and dabs it at her mouth. 

The waiter grimaces. "No problem. I'll be right back."

As the waiter walks off, you turn back to Seolhyun, forcing yourself to smile. She jumps right back into her complaints, albeit more quietly, and fidgets with the stem of her wine glass. You tune her out again, no longer feeling guilty for doing so. The only thing that brings your attention back to reality is the waiter setting the bill face-down on the table. He bids you both goodnight before walking off, and when you look up, you almost want to laugh.  

A guilty expression flashes across Seolhyun's face, and she leans over the table, looking at the check. She clears her throat, and you already know what she's about to say. 

"Do you have your card on you? Sorry, I think I left mine at home. I'll totally venmo you after this." She laughs awkwardly, sitting back in her seat.

You roll your eyes, but reach for your wallet. "Whatever." 

After dinner, the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the rain, huddling under the overhang as you try to find an escape from the downpour. 

"Well, it was nice chatting with you, y/n," she says, stepping towards the edge of the overhang. "Hope we can hang out again soon."

"Yeah, definitely," you lie. 

"Awesome! Talk to you later, then." She smiles, and you know she's lying too.

Seolhyun walks out into the rain and you watch as she crosses the street, heading toward a pink Tesla. 

"Bitch," you murmur bitterly, pulling your hood over your head.

You don't want to spend money on an Uber, and the walk to the nearest bus stop isn't very far, so you decide to trek through the rain, praying that the bus won't take long. You zip up your coat and adjust your hood, stepping out into the rain. The cold pelts against your face and seeps through the material of your clothes, causing goosebumps to break out on your skin. You curse, and pull your arms close to your body, walking faster. The streetlamps lining the road provide enough light for you to see where you're going despite the dark clouds overhead, their glow casting an orange glow against the pavement.

As you walk, your thoughts turn back to your disastrous date. You didn't mean to act like such an ass, but it was impossible not to when the entire evening had consisted of her talking about herself and how difficult her life was. The worst part is, she actually seemed to think you were a good listener, even with your blank stares and monosyllabic responses.

Deep down, you know that it's not entirely Seolhyun's fault. Today felt like a culmination of all the ways you've been failing lately. In short, it's been a bad week. A bad month. A bad year. At all points, you've felt as though there was no escape from the dullness of your life, like you were being suffocated, drowned in a pool of water with no way to save yourself. These were your college years, and you came to the realization last year that all you've been doing was sitting in your room, studying, going to class, and then going home. No parties, no drama, no adventures, no romance, nothing. Even worse, it seemed like everyone else had already started their lives and were living them. It was infuriating, seeing everyone around you have fun, while you were stuck in this weird limbo of mediocrity.

In attempts to find some excitement, you downloaded a dating app and started going out more, meeting people, but so far, all the dates have ended up being like this. Boring, or just plain awkward. You've tried to make changes—different clothes, makeup, hair—anything to shake things up, and while that was nice and made you feel pretty, it didn't change the fact that your life was still dull. And now, you're just exhausted, constantly feeling like you're going through the motions.

 Nothing has worked. This was probably the tenth horrible date you've been on in two months. Maybe, this was just your life now, and you had to come to terms with it. Bland, and as bleak as the clouds overhead.  

Which seem to have gotten even darker, you notice, as you approach the bus stop. You stand underneath the shelter, rubbing your hands together and blowing on them. The streets are completely deserted. You shiver, your damp clothes clinging to your skin, and hug yourself tightly, trying to keep warm. You try to look for any sign of the bus, but the rain is coming down too hard, the air is heavy with fog, and you can't see further than a few feet away. A prickle of fear runs down your spine. You didn't even think to check if the buses were running late. What if they're not running at all?

Just as you reach for your phone to check the time, you hear the screeching of bus brakes and let out a sigh of relief. You're saved.

You stand at the edge of the sidewalk, watching as the bus slowly pulls up in front of the stop. The door opens and you step inside, moving as quickly as you can. The warm air instantly hits your face, but the heat does nothing to thaw the chill that has set in your bones.

You pay the driver and walk to the back, taking a seat near the window. The bus is nearly empty, save for an old woman and a couple of teenagers sitting towards the front.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and plug in your earbuds. Music starts playing, drowning out the noise of the rain and the rumble of the engine.

After a few stops, the bus reaches your destination and the doors open, the sound of the rain pouring down and the wind blowing in, bringing with it a cool breeze. You get off, and begin the trek home, your sneakers splashing through puddles as you make your way down the street.

The wind picks up, the gusts blowing hard enough to cause the street lamps to flicker and sway. They cast shadows against the ground and walls of the buildings, which appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. The rain comes down harder, falling in thick, heavy sheets. You quicken your pace, the muscles in your legs burning as you move, your heart rate quickening. 

Finally, your apartment building comes into view.  You run, sprinting the last block and darting up the steps, the water squishing between your toes. Excitement blooms in your chest as you grab the door handle and pull it open, the prospect of a dry place to lay your head making you feel better.

As soon as you cross the threshold of your building, you pull your hood down, the smell of mildew hitting your nose. Your shoes squeak against the wet floor, and you leave a trail of water droplets and mud as you head toward the elevator.

The ride up is excruciatingly slow. You tap your foot impatiently, watching the numbers climb, and think about the warm bed that's awaiting you, how good it'll feel to wrap yourself in a blanket and forget about this miserable night. If your roommate allows it.

Once your mind drifts to her, your excitement dwindles. Fatigue weighs heavy on your shoulders, and you long for nothing more than to be asleep in the comfort of your own bed, but you know it's a rubbish wish, thanks to Aeri. 

Recently, home hasn't been particularly enjoyable either. You used to have a roommate who didn't bother you. Then, she dropped out, and you were stuck with rent, an empty room, and the task of finding a new roommate. It was a difficult process, with most candidates seeming creepy or annoying or gross. Then, you ran into Aeri, who was by no means a perfect match, but seemed good enough. She was a bit awkward, and you didn't really know what to make of the intense gothic attire she was sporting during your initial meeting. She seemed incredibly nice and easygoing, though, and she smelled good. Was that not all you needed? So, running out of time, you swallowed your apprehension and gave her the spare keys to your apartment.  

For the most part, you didn't regret your decision. She was, in fact, one of the sweetest, most caring people you've ever met, frequently baking treats for you when she knew you were having a particularly terrible day and listening to you vent  about your dating diasters. But, there were a few small issues that had cropped up, and they happened to occur most often at night.

Your stomach does flip-flops the higher the numbers get, until, finally, the elevator dings, and the doors open. You shuffle out into the hall, pulling out your keys and heading toward the apartment. When you're in front of the door, you hesitate, the key hovering in the air as you stare at the peephole. You take a deep breath and push the door open, the smell of incense instantly hitting your nose as you step inside of the dark apartment. You slip off your wet shoes and hang your jacket up on your worn-out coat rack. 

"I'm back," you call, closing the door behind you. You step further into the apartment and glance around as you walk into the living room, where you are met with a sight you're not prepared for.

Your eyes squint to adjust to the dark and take in the scene before you. The air is thick and heavy, engulfed by the scent of a sweet, intoxicating perfume. Candles are placed throughout the space, their warm glow casting shadows on the wall. Aeri kneels in the middle of the living room, wearing a cloak, her hands hovering above an intricate pentagram on the floor. She mumbles something to herself that you cannot understand, her eyes closed. Her hair falls over her face and her lips move, but no words are uttered.

"Aeri, what are you doing?" you ask, taking a tentative step forward.

Aeri's head snaps up, her eyes wide, and the mumbling stops.

"Oh, hey, you're back," she says, her tone a bit nervous. Her hands tremble as she moves the hood of her cloak back. "Sorry, I didn't know you'd be back so soon. I was just—uh—you know."

"No, actually. I don't. What are you doing?" You repeat, folding your arms in front of you.

She looks around the room, before returning her gaze to you. "Uh...meditating?"

And this was the problem. Shortly after Aeri moved in, she brought her witchy occult shit with her. You don't really believe in any of it, so you typically ignore her and carry on with your day when you see her pull out one of her spellbooks at the dinner table. Except for days like this, when she goes too far, gets too loud, and keeps you up at night with her antics. Then, she becomes public enemy number one. 

You glare at her. "With a pentagram on the floor? Please. This is..."

You pause, scanning the room again. There's something particularly wrong today, but you can't quite place it. There's heaviness in the air, a heightened version of the feeling you get when you're in a haunted house, except there are no clowns or people cosplaying as serial killers, just candles and a pentagram and Aeri, staring up at you. 

"Bizarre. This is bizarre. Even for you." you finish, narrowing your eyes. "What's going on?"

"Nothing!" She squeaks, her voice strained. "I was just...doing some reading about a spell that could, uh. Fix a problem that I’ve been having. I decided to try it out today"

You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out an exasperated sigh. You're tired. Your hair is drenched. Your shirt is clinging to your back. You couldn't be bothered with this. 

"Listen, I don't think I actually care about what you have going on. But, I have an exam tomorrow, I've had a rough day, and I need some rest. Can you promise to keep it down in here while I sleep?"

Aeri looks around, a guilty expression on her face, before nodding her head. "Sure, yeah. No problem. I’m sorry."

"Thank you," you say, and turn on your heels without another word.

You make your way through the hallway and enter your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

Your room is dark and cold, but you can't bother to turn the lights on or get under the covers. Instead, you lay down on the bed, your limbs splayed out. Your hair is still wet, and you can feel the moisture seeping into your comforter, but you can't even think to move.

You're too tired to bother changing into your pajamas. Too tired to do anything but sleep. So, you shove off your socks and rain-soaked jeans and call it a day. You crawl into bed, pulling the blankets over your body until they rest just below your chin. The warmth envelopes you and you're finally able to relax. You stare up at the ceiling, watching the fan spin slowly, praying for a peaceful night's rest. Lately, you've been plagued by strange dreams you can't remember when you wake up. Although they've been forgetful, they usually keep you tossing and turning in your sleep throughout the night. But, tonight, your eyelids are so heavy you can barely keep them open, and within seconds, you drift off into unconsciousness, the world slipping away and the darkness consuming you. The smell of Aeri's incense and the sound of the rain lulls you into a slumber unlike never before, submerged into a dark void of nothing.  

That is, until you feel something touch you. You awaken with a start, jolting upright in your bed, your heart racing. The room is dark, illuminated only by the light of the moon shining through the window. You glance around frantically, searching for the source of the touch, but there's nothing, no sign of life. Just shadows, and the sound of your breathing. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It's probably just the wind or an insect. You're tired, and your deteriorating mind is playing tricks on you. There's nothing to be scared of.

You lay back down, pulling the blankets up to your chin, and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. Your heartbeat begins to slow, and you exhale, trying to relax. A few minutes pass, and you begin to drift off once again, when, suddenly, you feel something against your neck. A cold, soft pressure. Like a feather, brushing across your skin.

"Y/N." A soft, gentle voice whispers.

Your eyes flutter open, and you are met with the sight of a woman's face, inches away from yours. You gasp and shoot up again, nearly slamming your forehead against hers. The woman backs away, allowing you to regain your bearings. You blink a few times, shaking your head to try to wake yourself up, but she remains., staring at you with an expression that could only be described as amused. 

The moonlight streams in through the window, giving the woman's figure an almost ethereal glow. You've never seen her before. She has a stupefying, otherworldly, beauty about her, with dark eyes and full lips that accentuate her sharp jawline. She's wearing a black, silky nightgown that clings to her body. Her pale, delicate-looking skin shines in the moonlight, and her dark hair, interlaced with another color, cascades down her back, falling over her shoulders.

You look around the room, expecting the lights to turn on and an elaborate prank to be revealed, but the room is just as dark and empty as you remember. When your eyes fall back onto the woman, she is staring back at you, a soft smile on her face.

"Who the fuck are you?" you force out, your voice trembling.  

She quirks an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. "Were you not expecting me?"

You scoff, nearly choking on your own saliva. "No! Of course not. I've never seen you before in my life. What the hell is going on? And how do you know my name?"

Her eyes light up with mirth, and her smile widens as if she's in on some sort of joke. 

"Oh, this is interesting," she starts, clasping her hands together. "This is very interesting."

As a primal fear takes hold of your body, interesting is the last word that comes to your brain to describe the situation you've found yourself in. Albeit hot, this random woman broke into your apartment to do God knows what to you and your belongings. Who knows if she's already murdered Aeri. Or, perhaps, this is a lucid dream, and you're experiencing some sort of weird hallucination. Either way, you wanted out. Now.

You release a shaky exhale in a poor attempt to calm your nerves. "I'm gonna call the cops, okay? But, I really don't want any trouble. If you leave now, I won't tell anyone about this." 

The woman stares at you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before erupting into a fit of laughter. You blink, unsure of how to proceed. She continues to laugh, her hand clutching her chest as her whole body shakes. The sound is melodic, and it rings out like the chimes of a bell, the notes flowing effortlessly into the air. It's almost enchanting, and you find yourself lost in the melody until she quiets down and straightens up, a soft smile on her face. 

"That's completely unnecessary. I'm not here to cause you any harm, Y/N," she says, and, somehow, her voice is even more hypnotic than her laugh. Some of your fear dissipates, but the confusion remains.

"Why are you here, then?" you question, unable to keep the suspicion out of your tone.

"To give you a little bit of help. I know you've been struggling." She replies, her voice dripping with sympathy.

"How do you know that?"

She smiles, the expression making her features seem even more radiant than before. "I know a lot of things. 'How' is irrelevant. What's more important is that I know exactly how I can help you tonight. You need...a stress reliever. I can do that for you. If you're up for it, that is."

"A stress reliever?" You echo, and the way her eyes sparkle in the moonlight, her lips quirked up in a seductive smirk, her voice low and smooth, makes it abundantly clear what she's implying. Your cheeks flush and heat rushes through your body. This couldn't be real. Could it?

"I don't think we're on the same page. I mean, a...stress reliever. I don't know if I understand," you say, shifting uncomfortably.

"You're a bit slow, aren't you?" she asks a devilish grin stretching across her face, and, she's probably right. You feel like a fish out of water, opening and closing your mouth like an idiot. The worst part of it is, she seems to be enjoying your floundering, grinning wider as she watches you stutter. 

"There's no need to worry," she purrs, taking a step closer, her dark eyes shining. "You just need to relax. It'll be fun." 

The sane, rational part of your brain is screaming, yelling, begging for you to run out of the room. Anybody with half a brain could decipher that the sensible thing to do in this situation would be to flee, grab a weapon, and call the police. Yet, here you are, lying still, the woman's words ringing in your ears. Fun. It's been a long time since you've had fun. You can't even remember the last time you've gotten remotely close to it. And, as if she was sent from above, here was a beautiful, mysterious woman, offering it to you on a platter. You can't help but be a bit curious. Curious about the strange, magical feeling that's coursing through your veins.

 Plus, your body is aching for touch, and the idea of sleeping with a beautiful woman is incredibly tempting, especially in your state. It's been months since you've had sex.

The woman takes a step closer, and your stomach does a flip. This is stupid. It's dangerous, and stupid, and it would be so easy to say no. 

"You won't hurt me, right?" You ask, a nervous edge creeping into your voice.

"You'll enjoy every second we spend together," she says, her eyes stroking over you. Her gaze is so intense, her voice so soothing, all you want is to please her. You don't think. You no longer have the ability to.  Your desire is too strong.

"What are you going to do?" you ask, the words tumbling out of your mouth.

"That depends on you," she says, her fingers brushing the edge of the duvet. "What would you like me to do?"

You look into her dark, all-consuming eyes, and shiver. Your blood feels like it's on fire.   "I—um—whatever you had in mind." 

Her eyes narrow, her lips curling up into a smirk. She leans in, her warm breath ghosting your lips. You can smell her perfume, the scent of vanilla and lavender assaulting your senses.  

Your heart beats fast, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes your throat.

"Are you sure?" she says, her voice low. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

She's right. For all you knew, her idea of fun could include a knife and a casket. But you couldn't bring yourself to care, not when she's looking at you like that. 

"I don't care," you say, your voice hoarse. "Do whatever you want with me."

The corners of her lips curl upwards, and her eyes twinkle with mischief.  "Okay," she whispers, her voice soft and sweet.

She leans forward, her lips ghosting yours. You hold your breath, anticipating her next move. Her hand moves up to cup your cheek, her thumb rubbing small circles on your skin that send a tingle down your spine. You lean into the touch, and her smile widens. She tilts her head to the side, and presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. The contact is soft, tender, and sweet. Her lips are warm, and the touch is brief, but enough to ignite the flames within your veins. You gasp, moving your head to try to capture her lips with yours, and she chuckles, pulling away.

"You're so impatient," she says, her eyes gleaming. "Desperate, even."

Embarrassment creeps up on you, and you flush, averting your gaze. She laughs again, and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her.

"Don't hide from me," she whispers, her voice soft. "There's nothing wrong with wanting something."

With her words, the fire within you flares, and the embers within your belly burst into an inferno. Your whole body is burning, yearning, and you can't help the sigh that escapes your throat. She hums, staring at you with her piercing gaze. You've never felt this exposed, so vulnerable, so completely bare in front of another person, and you are still partially clothed. She seems to be studying you, taking in every detail, memorizing the expressions on your face. She's looking at you like you're prey, a feast, and it should scare you, should make you tremble, but it doesn't.

"Kiss me," you murmur, and she obeys.

You let out a small gasp, and her lips curve into a smile against yours as you make contact. Your eyes flutter shut, and the warmth of her mouth almost sends you spiraling. The feeling is electric, like a bolt of lightning, and it sets every nerve ending within your body alight. Her tongue glides along your bottom lip, and you part them willingly, allowing her all of the access she desires. Her tongue is warm, and wet, and her kisses are intoxicating. She tastes sweet, like strawberries and vanilla, and you can't help but moan.

She pulls away, prompting an involuntary whimper from you."Is this what you wanted, y/n?"

"Yes—uh," you stop yourself, realizing that you still don't know her name. 

"Bada," she supplies, as if reading your mind. She places a hand on your chest, and gently pushes you back onto the bed, her gaze locked on yours. You fall onto the mattress, your eyes wide.

"Bada," you repeat softly, tasting the name on your lips. Pretty. 

She smiles and slips the blankets off of you. The cool air hits your skin, sending goosebumps along your arms and legs. You suck in a sharp breath, and her eyes rake over you, drinking in the sight.

"Beautiful," she whispers, her fingers tracing up your thigh. 

She leans down to press a gentle kiss on your jaw. Her lips travel down your neck, and she bites at the sensitive skin, hard. A moan slips from your mouth, and she sucks and licks at the spot, soothing the sting. Her hand trails up the inside of your thigh, and her fingertips graze the band of your underwear. You arch your back, yearning for her touch.

"Please," you whimper again, and she giggles. 

"At least you're polite," she says, biting down on your neck again. 

Her teeth scrape against your skin, and you gasp, grabbing a fistful of her hair. You pull her closer, desperate to remove any shred of distance between the two of you. She groans, her nails digging into your thigh, her touch searing hot. She sucks at the tender skin below your collarbone, and you whine, heat pooling between your legs. It was a little humiliating, getting so worked up despite the fact that she's barely done anything, but it was hard not to when she's touching as if she wants nothing more than to devour you. 

"So impatient," she purrs, her eyes gleaming. "So needy."

She kisses the mark she made on your neck, and you squirm, the pressure between your thighs growing. 

Her fingers move higher, ghosting over your underwear, and you writhe under her touch, letting out a frustrated groan. She pulls away, a smirk on her lips.

"Something wrong?"

"You're fucking with me," you hiss, and she laughs out loud. 

"Your impatience is cute," she says, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin on your neck, pausing where your heartbeat pulsed, right beneath your jaw. "Can't help it." 

You watch as she moves her hand away from your neck, back to your underwear. Her fingers slip under the band of your panties, already dark and wet, and she runs them through your folds, spreading your already abundant slickness.  You couldn't stand that you were so clearly proving her point about how needy you were, giving her more to make fun of you about, but how could you not be? It's been too long. and you don't know if it's ever felt this good this early on.  

Your head falls back onto the pillow, and your hands clutch at the sheets, desperate for purchase. The feeling of her thumb brushing against your clit makes your hips buck up, and she pulls away to pull down your panties.

You shiver, the cool air hitting your exposed skin. She grabs your thighs, spreading them apart, and the anticipation nearly kills you on the spot.

"So pretty," she says, her voice filled with wonder.

She looks up at you, her eyes darker than before. She holds your gaze, and without breaking eye contact, ducks her head, and swipes her tongue along your slit.

A moan escapes your lips, and your back arches, your fingers threading through her hair. Her tongue moves in circles, and you feel her hands grasp at your thighs as you inadvertently try shut them close around her head. She spreads them further apart, and presses her mouth against your center, sucking on the bundle of nerves.

"F—fuck," you moan, your head thrown back, eyes shut.

She moans into you, the vibrations causing pleasure to erupt inside of you. You grip the sheets, the fabric crumpling underneath your fingers. She pulls away, and your eyes fly open, only to meet her intense gaze.

"Watch me," she whispers, her voice husky.

Your eyes snap to her face, and she smiles, her fingers trailing down your stomach. You squirm under her touch, and she grips your thighs, her eyes locked on yours. Her staring does something to you, makes the goosebumps rise on your skin, a funny feeling arise in your stomach. She presses her lips against the inside of your thigh, her eyes not leaving yours.

She slips a finger inside of you, and you gasp, the sudden intrusion causing a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. She curls her finger, and you arch your back, the friction driving you crazy.

"That's it," she purrs, adding another finger.

You throw your head back, moaning as she begins to thrust her fingers, moving in a steady rhythm. You clench around her fingers, and her eyes widen, a mischievous glint shining in her irises. You bite your lip, the pressure building, and she smirks, increasing the pace of her movements. She crooks her fingers, hitting a sensitive spot inside of you. 

"Fuck," you cry out, and her lips curl upwards, pleased.

She leans forward, her lips capturing yours, her tongue invading your mouth. She swallows your moans, and you can feel her smiling against your lips. She pulls away, and rests her forehead against yours, her dark eyes boring into yours.

"Are you going to come for me, y/n?"

"Y-yes," you whimper, and she laughs, her hot breath fanning against your cheek.

She thrusts her fingers faster, and her thumb rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. Your breaths come out short and quick, and your head spins, the room spinning.

"Come on," she whispers, her voice low and sultry.

The pressure builds, and you can feel the edge coming. You gasp, your eyes shut, and your whole body tenses up, the pleasure rippling through your body. You let out a string of curses, and she slows her movements, riding out the aftershocks. 

"That's it," she murmurs, her fingers leaving your core.

She trails her fingers up your torso, and leans down, her lips hovering above yours.  

"Open up," she commands, her voice taking on a deeper cadence that makes you immediately obey. She pushes her fingers inside of your mouth, and your tongue dances around her digits, tasting yourself, a musky flavor that leaves you feeling lightheaded. She hums and removes her fingers, a trail of saliva connecting her digits to your mouth.

"Good." she whispers, her breath tickling your cheek.

Your eyes flutter shut, and your head spins. You're exhausted, and you almost feel as if you're about to pass out, but her praise and proximity sends a thrill through you, your heart fluttering at her words. She presses another soft kiss to your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on her tongue. She pulls away, a lazy smile on her face. 

Through your exhaustion, you manage to meet her gaze again, and you nearly gasp. Her pupils had swollen, the dark brown of her eyes merely a slim ring around a black void, devoid of any color. You swallow hard, a slight panic rising within you as you suddenly remembering the reality of the predicament you're in. Or, was it even reality? 

"W—what's happening?" you stutter, the words tumbling from your mouth.

She grins, and you realize for the first time that her teeth are razor sharp, looking as if they could tear your flesh to shreds.

"I'm taking care of you, that's what's happening, silly." she says, her voice taking on a sing-songy quality. Her hand trails down your side. "And I'm not quite finished, yet."

She leans down and captures your lips in another kiss so rough that it nearly bruises. You're still dizzy, the blood pumping through your veins, and your head still feels as if it's full of cotton. As soon as her hands meet your skin, your exhaustion and worry disappear, replaced by euphoria. She reaches under your shirt, her fingers dancing along your torso, and you moan, your mind foggy. You can't help the small sounds that escape from your lips as she touches you, her fingers tracing every curve, every angle, committing every inch of your body to memory. Soon, your top is tossed to the side, and her hands are exploring your bare skin. Her fingers run up your spine, and you shiver, goosebumps forming. She pulls away, and a whine falls from your lips, a sound that causes her to laugh.

"So easy to please," she teases.

"Sh-shut up," you protest weakly. 

Suddenly, she grabs you by the waist, pulling you into her lap with an ease that catches you off guard. You're stunned into silence, and she wraps her arms around you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. You let out a yelp, and her nails dig into your skin, the sting making you bite back a groan. She places her chin on top of your shoulder, and her hands move lower, settling on your hips. She squeezes and forces your hips into a grind, her thigh meeting the apex of your legs. Your eyes flutter shut, a wave of heat pooling between your legs, a warmth filling the pit of your stomach, a small moan escaping your lips. She chuckles, her breath tickling the back of your neck.

"Fuck," you choke out, the embarrassment clear in your tone as you continue to your center against the smooth skin of her thigh.

"You're funny," she murmurs with a smile, and presses a kiss on your cheek. 

A blush creeps onto your cheeks, and you hide your face, burying it into her neck. You inhale deeply, her scent filling your nose. She still smells so sweet, like dessert, and you want to lick her, devour her, but instead, you press your lips to her skin, and she moans, gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark.

"God, you're so beautiful," she whispers, her nails digging into your hips. "So, so pretty."

You moan, the heat between your legs intensifying. Her words go straight to your core, and you can't help the small, high-pitched whine that leaves your mouth, a sound you'd be ashamed of if not for the fact that you can't think, can't focus, can't even process her words.

One of her hands slips around your waist, grabbing at the bare flesh of your ass. Your breath hitches, and she pulls you closer, her mouth finding the spot on your neck that drives you wild. Her teeth scrape against your skin, and her tongue laps at the hollow of your collarbone, the sensation eliciting a loud moan. You tilt your head, allowing her access, and her mouth moves downward, to your breast, her tongue circling one of your nipples. Your eyes squeeze shut, the tension in your abdomen mounting. It was overstimulating, her thighs, the way her tongue felt against you, the way her fingers squeezed at the flesh of your ass, the way her hands explored the planes of your body, and it was all too much. 

"I'm gonna—" you start, and her hand moves between your legs, pressing her fingers against your throbbing clit. 

You let out a cry, the orgasm hitting you hard, the intensity somehow stronger than before. Her fingers slide easily against you, and you clench around her, the waves of pleasure washing over your body.

She lets out a soft sigh, and she pulls away, her black eyes meeting yours. You don't care enough to feel frightened this time though, being so flooded with exhaustion that you collapse back onto the bed, barely able to keep your eyes open. Sharp, short breaths escape from your lips, and a numbness starts to spread throughout your limbs, a strange calm settling over your body that you've never felt before. Somewhere in the back of your brain, alarm bells are going off, but they're drowned out by a heavy sleepiness that takes over you. 

"Go back to sleep, Y/N." she says, her voice distant, muffled. "It's alright."

You can feel the weight of the world bearing down on your shoulders, and the bags under your eyes seem to grow heavier and darker with every passing second. It has been a very long time since you were last able to sleep properly. You wanted to talk to Bada more, but you can feel yourself beginning to lose control, your mind going blank and your muscles becoming weak. 

"Bada..." you mumble, her name rolling off your tongue.

Before you can further speak, the darkness seeps into your mind, and you allow yourself to succumb. But, the feeling that accompanies you into sleep is an uneasy one, a cold sensation wrapping itself around your body like a snake squeezing the life out of its prey. 

"Good night," Bada whispers, the words echoing in the darkness, the sound fading into nothingness. 

[djarincore]

The Object of My Desire

SUMMARY: You're a hardworking scholar and the spoiled daughter of a corrupt nobleman.

The mercenary hired for your protection is more than willing to take your father's money, just not your bratty attitude. Luckily, he's got a few ways to deal with spoiled little girls like you.

PAIRING: fighter!price x wizard!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

TAGS: DND!au, porn with some plot, f masturbation, dirty talk, cunnilingus, he bends you over a desk, PIV, rough sex, unprotected sex, slight breath play, creampie, slight jealously, reader gets called a bitch (not by Price but he does call you a brat whoops)

A/N: this is just a silly little idea that popped into my head while I tried learning more about DND! I actually rolled some dice to make some decisions/outcomes and it made the writing experience way more fun 10/10 recommend

Winter’s gray sky cast a torrent of rain against the cobblestone roads and blew frigid winds through the streets of Moongarde. Despite the relentless weather, citizens continued to migrate towards the town's center in attendance for the annual Heroes Feast. 

You clutched your cloak tighter against your chest as you weaved through the crowds of people heading in the opposite direction. There were more important things to deal with than a stupid celebration—like the supposed danger you were in.

Having a father who enjoyed making enemies in high places certainly made your life interesting. Though, the threats on your life were, frankly, a nuisance. You had much better things to do than worry about silly threats from cowardly, old men. But, your father worried; he worried enough to hire a mercenary to guard you. 

You hoped he wasn't old and boring like the last one you chased away. Any guard who succumbed to simple illustory spells like fear weren't worth the gold your father spent. 

Ahead, a hanging sign swung forward in the wind. Carved into the wood was a crow perched on a branch, staring off beyond the borders of its design. The Ivory Crow—a dingy, little establishment you loathed to enter. 

With a grimace, you made your way up the creaking wooden stairs. Already, you could hear rowdy, clamorous songs and bellowing voices seeping through the cracks of its shabby, wooden walls. 

Before you could reach out to push open the swinging doors, they burst open and a man stumbled out, his weight nearly toppling onto you. 

“S’rry ‘bout tha’, m’ss,” he slurred, hiccuping as he ended his sentence. He grabbed onto one of the doors to steady himself, though he still swayed. 

“Move,” you demanded. His body blocked half the entrance and you weren’t interested in squeezing past him. He was covered in stains, presumably sweat and booze from the acrid smell of him. 

He lifted his head towards you, eyes half-lidded. “Hey, don’ tell me wha’ ta do,” he hissed. 

You rolled your eyes and raised a finger towards the man. The familiar warmth of magic pooled at your fingertip and was dispelled when you tapped his forehead.

He crumpled to the ground, eyes closed with his chest still rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. 

You wiped your finger against your velvet cloak and stepped over the unconscious body into the tavern. 

The inside was warmly lit by a large candle chandelier hanging from the tall rafters and more candles decorating tables. No one in the tavern seemed to have noticed your exchange. They were all absorbed in their own ideas of fun. 

A dwarven bard strummed her lute on top of a table, singing an unfamiliar tune and absorbing the adoring applause of drunken patrons who chimed in off-key. Couples, locked in heated embraces, cozied themselves to dimly lit corners of the tavern. 

If it wasn’t singing or lovers, there was plenty of conversation floating through the air to distract from anything outside. 

Your eyes scanned the tavern’s edge, looking for a lone figure at one of the tables. 

The mercenary gave your father instructions for you to find him at the Ivory Crow. Look for a bear on the pommel of his sword, your father had said.

In the far corner of the room, you finally spoted a vaguely familiar figure matching your idea of him, sitting on a stool with his back facing the wall and nursing a pint of ale between his hands. His eyes were downcast as he stared at the overflowing foam sliding down the metal pint. 

He seemed to be the only lone figure in the tavern, everyone else was joined by at least one other companion. 

His attire was shades of muted green and brown, darkened by grime and dirt. A sword tucked in its scabard leaned against the table. The pommel bore the crest of a roaring bear head.

You approached swiftly, maneuvering your way past the overflowing tables filled with patrons and stumbling drunks trying to get to the bar. 

When you reached the mercenary, you stood at the edge of his table. His gaze lifted from his drink to you. Blue eyes met yours.

He wasn't as old as your last guard, and he certainly wasn't as boring to look at. 

There was no surprise on his face as he looked at you, no glimmer of recognition; his stern countenance gave away nothing of his thoughts. His gaze was almost intense, discerning, and calculating.

You broke eye contact first to look down at the round stool opposite him. It had a spot of liquid on the edge that made you grimace. 

All the other surrounding chairs looked occupied. So, you dug through your leather bag and pulled a purple cloth from it. 

You wordlessly conjured up a spectral blue hand and offered up the cloth for it to wipe away the liquid. The hand dried up the liquid and deposited the cloth on the table before vanishing.

The mercenary had crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall to watch you, legs spread wide. Inquisitive eyes followed as you took a seat, back stiff with hands tucked into your cloak, clutching it tighter to your body as if it were shielding you.  

“Ser Jonathan Price, correct?” 

He nodded once and said nothing. 

You fished a hefty pouch from your leather bag and tossed it towards him. The platinum pieces inside rattled as they hit the table. 

His eyes fell to the bag for a moment, then slid back up to you, not attempting to reach for the pouch. 

Maybe he was unimpressed. 

“There's your payment for today—one hundred platinum pieces,” you stated and cleared your throat. “Now, the rules for this arrangement are simple: protect me and stay out of my way.”

You think he understood. He didn't say anything otherwise. There was a slight twitch in your eye when he tilted his head like he was looking at an amusing, little oddity. 

After another moment his arms unfurled and a hand reached out for the pouch. He cradled it in his palm, hefting it for its weight. The coins rattled. When he pushed two fingers into the closed seam and spread it open, you scoffed.

“If you think I'm lying, don't. Your coin is there.” You crossed your arms, in an attempt to be as nonplussed as he was—it was a poor attempt. You couldn't help the frown that stuck to your lips. 

He removed his fingers from the pouch and rapped his knuckles down hard against the wooden table twice, making you flinch and catching the attention of a passing barmaid. 

Their exchange was quick. She turned her head toward him with a bright smile, flirty even as her eyes roamed down his figure. He pointed a finger down at his pint and flicked his wrist up to call for one more. She nodded and flitted back to the bar. 

“Easy enough,” he said when he turned back to you. His voice was smoky, low. Probably caused by too many cigarettes and shouting. He rested his forearms on the table, one hand still gripped around the pouch. “But drop the ser, m’ not a knight.”  

Your brows furrowed. You recalled the description your father gave you of him. A knight who served under the King’s banner for twenty years. “But you’re-” 

“I was,” he interrupted firmly, leaving you with no room to argue. 

Your mouth remained open, wanting to bite back, but when his brow raised slightly at the hint of a challenge, you clenched your jaw. Any attempt to delve further into the topic would only prove futile and a waste of time. 

You took in a deep breath through your nose and exhaled through your mouth. “Fine,” you acquiesced. “How do I address you then?”

“John’s good enough for me."

“Okay, John,” you ground out and stood from your seat. “I want to leave before nightfall.” 

He held his hand up, stopping you in your place. “We're not going anywhere yet, love.” 

You bristled at both the nickname and his order. The arrangement was supposed to be the other way around. You give him orders and he follows. 

“Sit, drink—I already bought you a mug.”  

On cue, the barmaid returned to the table with another overflowing pint in her hand and set it down on your side. She wiped her hand down on her apron and looked at John, her charming smile returning. “Anythin’ else I can getcha?”

“No, thank you.” He returned her smile with a grin of his own. He dug into the pouch and pulled out a platinum piece, setting it in her outstretched hand. 

Her eyes widened as she shook her head. “This is too much! The drinks are only ten silver!”

You crossed your arms and interjected, “I agree. That's far too much.” 

“Keep it,” he assured, waving her off. 

The barmaid scurried away with an even wider smile than you thought possible. Her hair and skirt bounced as she went. 

With her gone, he turned his attention back to you and gestured back to your stool. “Drink with me.”

The foam dribbling down the sides of the metal pint made you grimace. You didn't drink ale; it wasn't to your taste. You preferred the rich, sweet taste of Evermead. 

But, another part of you was tempted, not by cheap ale. It was the mercenary, the ex-knight, Jonathan Price. Stern to you, yet kind to the barmaid. Silent but still expressive. You felt the tug of curiosity, the desire to learn everything about this stranger and unfold his secrets. 

You sat, watching as he took his ale and the bob of his throat as he drank. 

He set down his drink, now half full, and nodded his head toward your mug. “Don't be shy, love. Go on.” 

Your hand snuck out from your cloak and grasped the handle, cold and slightly sticky. Slowly, to not spill, you lifted the mug and took a sip. Cold liquid slid down your throat. The ale was bitter, watered down, and made your mouth twist with disgust. 

“That bad, eh?” He chuckled. You were alarmed to find his low, raspy chuckle disarming. Surely, the ale hadn't got to your head already.

You set the mug down, pushing it further away with your fingers, and wiped your lips clean of any foam left behind with the back of your hand. “I can't believe you like this.”

“Oh, I don't like this garbage.” He laughed, grabbing his mug once more. His thumb idly ran down the handle, throwing a glance out to the crowded tavern. “Just drinking to pass the time.”

“Surely there are better taverns to drink in.” You glanced around at the rowdy patrons once more. Two men were standing toe to toe at the table across from you, exchanging heated words. 

When he failed to respond, you tried following his eye. It led you to the opposite side of the room toward the barmaid who served you earlier tending to a group of adventurers. She pressed her hip against the table and chatted with them, laughing. 

“So, it’s not the drinks that bring you back,” you muttered to yourself, moving your gaze back to him. 

The small smile that tugged the corner of his lips as he watched her caused a strange feeling to stir in your chest. You clenched your hands together, forcing away the uncomfortable squeeze.

You stood abruptly from your seat, ignoring your chair tipping backwards and hitting the floor. His attention was on you again. The smile was gone.

“We’re going.”

“Haven't finished your drink,” he called as you stormed off. 

You ignored him, pushing straight between the two quarreling men. Your hands pressed hard against both their chests to pry them out of your way. 

The two men stumbled back, caught off guard. 

“Hey!”

“Don't touch me, you little bitch,” the other snarled. His hand shot out to grab your wrist, narrowly latching on. 

His movements were sloppy, most likely from all the ale he'd been drinking. You were quick enough to snatch your hand away before he could restrain you. 

You were beginning to really hate this tavern. 

More patrons were beginning to watch the exchange, sitting back like it was some spectacle. 

But, you saw John rise from his stool. His hand grasping his sword as he approached the men from behind. 

“Let's settle down, gentleman,” he said with a tired sigh.

The man who tried grabbing you turned his attention to John. “Stay outta this,” he hissed, clenching his fists and setting his shoulders back. He was much larger than John, towering at least a head taller.

You didn't want to find out how well a brawl between the two would end. 

“Obtempero."

The spell sliped from your lips and the man stiffend. In that instance, your mind was linked with his as you forcibly erased any free will he had. 

Shut up and sit down, you commanded. 

The room went silent as the man lowered onto his seat. You clenched your jaw when your head began to throb, a sign of him fighting against your control.

“Quickly,” you beckoned to the mercenary. Your control over the man’s mind wouldn't last long and you didn't want to stick around to face his wrath. 

You turned and dashed out the tavern doors, followed closely by John who was laughing to himself. 

“Clearly you can handle yourself. Don't know what you need me for,” he said.

A light rainfall had started, coating you and the streets in water. You raised your hood over your head to shield yourself. 

The street was still bustling with citizens with their umbrellas. A good cover in case the man tried following the two of you.

“I only agreed to a guard to appease father’s worries,” you muttered, sidestepping a pair of children running past you, chasing each other with wooden swords. “But, dealing with pea-brained oafs is easy compared to defending myself from someone with a dagger.”

He only hummed in reply, walking in stride with you up the cobblestone street. The rain was beginning to dampen his hair and clothes, but he didn't seem to mind.

You could feel your concentration on the spell waning the further you got until it snapped. You tensed and reached to grab John’s hand. His fingers wrapped around yours without question.

“We have to-”

“You bitch! I'm gonna tear you apart!”

Your head snapped around to find the man burst from the tavern door with a roar. Your heart jumped. The man almost seemed to burn with fury as he barreled up the street in search of you.

“This way.” 

John tugged your hand and you allowed him to pull you through the street, weaving your way through throngs of people. He pulled you through unfamiliar streets that passed by in a blur before taking a sharp right into an alleyway, tugging you into the shadows. 

Your back was against the stone walls and you heaved a sigh. Your heart raced with adrenaline. This certainly wasn't anything you'd experienced while nose-deep in a book. “Gods, I-”

“Shh,” he hushed, placing a hand over your mouth. 

Your eyes widened. He was looking out towards the street and you realized how close he was standing, nearly pressed against your front. Your hand gripped his wrist; to pry it off or hold him close, you didn't know.

When he deemed the coast clear, his hand fell away.

“Don't do that again,” you said weakly. 

He looked down at you, an amused smile forming. “Understood. Mind giving me my hand back then?”

You didn't realize your grip on his wrist remained. You released him and slipped away. 

“I'll lead us home.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun was just setting by the time you returned to the manor. John had followed you silently the whole way. 

“Welcome back, ma'am,” Ann greeted once you entered the foyer. She was a maid you'd known since you were a child. Her warm smile was akin to that of a mother’s, though you'd never call her such. 

“Ann will run you a bath and get you some new clothes.”

She was already moving up the left side of the split staircase to fulfill your request.

“What's wrong with my clothes?” John glanced down at his attire, smoothing his hand down the front of his doublet, now soaked with rain. 

“They're filthy and soaked. Now go.” You used your hand to shoo him off and he followed Ann with a sigh, ascending the stairs. 

You went off to another area of the manor where you could take your own bath and wash away the grime of that tavern.

When the bath was filled and ready, you shed your robes and stepped into the warmth, sighing as the warm water enveloped your body. You ran your hand up your arm, over your neck, and down your collarbone. 

While you washed, your thoughts wandered back to John. A hand slipped down the valley of your breasts and between your thighs. 

There was no question that he was attractive. The mercenary was new and surprisingly exciting—an experiment to toy with. You wanted to win him, have him in the palm of your hand and study what made him tick. 

Your index finger brushed against your clit. The first hum of pleasure bolted through your body. Slow teasing circles were drawn over your clit until you ached for more. Two fingers parted your folds to allow your middle finger to dip in. 

You sunk lower into the water, chin rippling the surface, and let your eyes fall shut to embrace your own touch while imagining it was someone else's. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you slipped out of the bath, satisfied, you redressed into a new robe. The loose low neck reached your abdomen, teasing the inner valley of your breasts. 

As you made your way to your room, you noticed the door was left slightly ajar. When you pushed open the door, you found John standing at your bookshelf, his fingers running down the spine of a tome. 

He was in a fresh set of clothes, loaned from a butler by the looks of it. The untucked, white dress shirt clung to the curves of his muscles, growing taut when he folded his arms. The black pants fit his form enough to show off the thickness of his thighs.

You shut the door and leaned against it, eyeing his form. The ache between your legs was growing again, wanting more than just your fingers this time. 

John turned around at the noise and you could see the buttons of his shirt were halfway done, revealing his toned chest with a smattering of hair. 

“Impressive collection,” he remarked. “I’d expect no less from a wizard.”

“I spent my entire life building this collection,” you replied absently. Your mind was wandering to other things—the veins on his arms, the bulge of his pectorals in the shirt. You were unashamedly staring through lowered eyelids, greedily taking in the sight. 

He was just as interested in your low cut robes. It was obvious in the way his eyes roamed your chest. 

You chose to close the gap until you were beside the bookcase, just a foot away from his side. 

He leaned his shoulder against the shelves and looked at you with a sly smirk. “Trying to charm me?”

Magic would make your game too easy.

Your hand moved to caress his jaw, smoothing over the soft hairs of his beard. He didn't move away, choosing to lean further into your touch. 

“I don't need to,” you hummed. Your fingers clawed up the slope of his neck and into the short strands of damp hair, drawing his face closer. “You're already mine.”

“That so?” His words fluttered along your lips in warm breaths. Strong hands fell to the curves of your waist, smoothing down to your ass and pulling you against his front. 

You felt the growing stiffness of his cock, trapped in his pants, press against your abdomen which only made the throbbing of your cunt worse. Instead of responding, you leaned forward and sealed your lips tightly against his, tasting smoke and bitter ale on his tongue. 

John was quick to respond, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip to get you to open up for him. His grip slid down your ass, roughly squeezing the soft flesh in his large palms. 

You rubbed yourself against his bulge, trying to satisfy the need growing inside of you. There was a needy, animalistic frenzy in his low groan, vibrating in his chest. 

He backed you up towards your desk. It was cluttered with more tomes you amassed over the years, threatening to spill at the slightest touch. Your prized spell book, a gift from your father, was also sitting open, flipped to the enchantment spell you used earlier at the tavern. 

John didn't seem to care much for your precious collection as he swiped the books off your desk to make room to set you down. They scattered to the floor.

You pulled away, intent on telling him off. That spell book was one of a kind—

He didn't give you room to argue, much less breathe. His lips were already diving forward to capture yours again, dizzying you, driving any thought out of your head. Your legs spread around his to accommodate his body as he forced your attention back on him.

John’s hands pushed aside the fabric of your robe which easily fell around your waist, exposing your bare breasts to the cool room air. Your hardening nipples rubbed against the coarse fabric of his shirt. 

Your hands roamed his chest in turn, running over the coarse hairs and clawing down his exposed sternum. You worked quickly to unbutton the rest of his shirt and pushed it off his broad shoulders. 

Once revealed, you trailed your eyes over his chest and down to a nasty scar sliced from his upper torso across his stomach. It was old by the scaring. You briefly wondered if it was the reason he was no longer a knight as your hand reached out to brush over it. 

John caught your wrist in an iron grip. When you looked back at his face, his stern expression told you enough to stay silent about it. With your short nod, the tension in the air lifted and he was back to work on you.

Another night then, you thought. You'd unravel his secrets eventually. 

When he released your wrist and pulled away, he moved down to his knees, untying the knot at your waist and pushing aside the rest of the fabric to reveal the rest of your body. With your thighs spread, he could fit his hand between your thighs, feeling the arousal leaking from your cunt. 

“So wet already?” 

His middle finger parted your folds, dipping in ever so slightly, causing your hips to shift forward, but he pulled away before you could feel him any deeper. He got to his knees, grunting as his settled.

Your legs hooked over his shoulders, leaving him face to face with your cunt. His heavy breath fanned over your exposed cunt. 

“What a sight,” he muttered to himself before leaning in to flick his tongue over your clit again and again. 

Your body trembled with static after every stroke of his tongue. Your fingers locked through his brown hair, tugging sharply at the roots. He hissed through his teeth at the sting, but even that didn't stop him. 

His hands gripped your thighs around his shoulders, digging into the soft flesh and then smoothing up until his hands cupped your ass to push you further into his mouth. 

One of your hands rested on the table to give yourself leverage as you rode his face. The hair of his beard burned against your inner thigh.

The pleasure thruming through your veins forced your legs to lock around his head as your orgasm came to its peak. 

“That's it,” he coaxed. “Come in my fuckin’ mouth, love.” 

John kept his mouth on your fluttering cunt, refusing to pull away until he had taken every last drop of your cum. Your hands weakly pulled on his hair, but his fingers dug deeper into your thighs as he forced his head back in. 

“Gods,” you panted, looking down at him between your thighs, devouring you like a starved man. “Fuck me already.” 

“Patience,” he huffed, flicking his tongue languidly over your clit once again. Your body stiffened again. “You think you can take me after one little orgasm?” 

As you clenched around nothing and his tongue continued to take long strokes over your cunt, you rolled your eyes and snapped back, “Don’t be so cocky.”

He rose quickly after your remark, yanking your body off the desk as he went and forcing you around. One of his palms met the back of your neck and pushed you flat against the desk. His cock pressed against your ass. The fabric of his pants were rough against your bare skin. 

“Let-"

His other hand clamped over your mouth and he growled into your ear, “No—no more orders. I'll give you what you want, but don't start cryin’ when it doesn't fit.” 

You ached, wanting to rub your thighs together but his legs were in the way. His hand moved from your mouth to the button of his pants to pull himself free. 

You could feel his thick cock press against your ass. Even without looking, you could tell he was nothing like the other wizards you'd have meaningless flings with in school.  

His cock notched at your entrance and he asked lowly, “Ready, love?” 

The hand over your mouth moved to caress the valley of your knuckles as your hand clasped the edge of the desk. Such an intimate gesture you almost wanted to embrace by turning over your hand and intertwining fingers. 

But, you didn't have time for much thought before he buried himself into you as deep as he could go without resistance. Which was only the tip of his cock.

Your walls clamped around him, refusing to let him bully his way deeper. You whimpered, white-knuckling the desk, and shut your eyes. Gods, he was too thick. 

“Shh,” he cooed in your ear. His fingers slid across your temple and into your hair, keeping your head against the desk. “You wanted this, right? You can take more.”

And he did give you more—and more, and more. Your clawed at the desk, welled up tears spilling down the side of your face, as he stretched you around his cock. You didn't breathe, not until his hips met your ass and you were completely filled to the brim. 

You gasped, filling your lungs with air. The edge of the desk pressing against your abdomen allowed you to feel him deeper. 

He grunted as you clenched around his length. “So fuckin’ tight,” he muttered to himself as he slowly rocked into your fluttering heat. 

The friction wasn't enough for you. As always, you wanted more. You wanted to be fucked, ravished, devoured completely and thrown into a sickening rapture. 

“More,” you moaned as his cocked dragged against your walls. You were needy and hungry for him to take you harder. 

“Does a brat like you even know how to say please?” He slipped out of you completely instead. 

You whined in protest, moving your hips back to fill the empty ache he left behind. His hands moved to grip your waist, holding you in place. “No, don't.”

“Too good to beg for it?” His fingers prodded at your entrance before he slipped two inside. They weren't comparable to his cock though—not as thick, not as full. “Come on my fingers then.”

His fingers curled against the sensitive spongey spot inside of you.

“F-Fuck you,” you ground out between your teeth, biting back a moan. 

“That’s not what I asked for.” His voice was stern; there was no room for arguments, no room for demands other than his own. 

You bit your lip. You weren't the one who was supposed to be begging—he was. Having John wrapped around your finger, desperate to please you like everyone else, was the end goal. But this? 

Strong, commanding, taking what he wants—that was who John was. And even you couldn't help but relent to that dominance. 

“Please.”

“Speak up, love.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. 

Bastard. 

“Please,” you repeated with a little more desperation than intended.

“Good girl,” he praised. His fingers slipped from you, pulling a string of your arousal with them, and he licked them clean. With his hands back on your hips, he lined up his cock and thrust back into you. 

Your mouth hung open as your back arched into the desk. The pace he set was relentless. It rocked your desk, sending any books and papers left on it to the floor. But you didn't care anymore, not when he found that perfect spot inside you again and again. Your toes curled as warmth pooled in your stomach and your core tightened. 

A hand wrapped around your neck once again, wrenching your back against his chest and forcing your head to the side. The sweat of your bodies melded you together. John’s fingers pressed on your throat with enough pressure to make you see stars. His gruff pants burst along the shell of your ear. His lips grazed the back of your neck as another hand moved to toy with your clit. 

You cursed as your body seized up and you came around him. You held onto the arm pressed against your chest as you rode out your orgasm. 

With a few more sharp thrusts, he spilled inside of you, flooding you with warmth. As you caught your breaths, he cupped your jaw and turned your head towards his to pull you into a searing kiss, still full of passion just like the first. 

You were almost boneless, sinking into the kiss and his arms. “Bed,” you murmured, resting your head against his shoulder when he released your jaw. “Now.”

John clicked his tongue as he slid out of you. A mix of your arousal begin to leak down your leg. You flinched when his hand cupped your sex to stop anymore from escaping. 

The action felt more possessive than anything else—something you weren't used to. Interest stirred in you once again. 

[fayes-fics]

It Had To Be You: Chapter 9 - Nobody Else Gave Me A Thrill

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: You two finally figure it all out on New Year's Eve...

artwork credit @colettebronte

Warnings: none, really… just some swearing and love confessions.

Word Count: 3.8k

Authors Note: A multi-chapter modern rom-com retelling of When Harry Met Sally. Here we are; this is the final chapter! Both reader and Benedict finally see the truth. There will be a short, hopefully humourous epilogue to this story as well, which I will post tomorrow. Thanks to @colettebronte for betaing. I hope you have all enjoyed this fic <3

For the next few weeks, the dreary weather, the clocks changing, and the chilly nights drawing in match your sullen mood. Your argument with Benedict at the wedding made you so sad but resolute to try and put it behind you.

It's the last weekend in November when you are buying a Christmas tree that you feel the worst. Making a mess of dragging the tree back to your place alone, leaving a trail of needles behind you, you stop halfway and slump onto a doorstep. Recalling with perfect clarity how you and Benedict had bought one together from the same man the previous year, laughing carefree as you easily carried it between you. Then you drank mulled wine as you haphazardly threw on lights and ornaments, dancing to cheesy Christmas songs. It's what you miss the most—his companionship, the ease of time spent with one of your favourite people.

Just as you are wrestling the tree through your front door, exhausted, sweaty and prickled by a thousand tiny shitty needles that seem to have it out for you, your phone pings with a message.

BB: I'm sorry for how things ended at the wedding. I've been thinking about it for weeks now. Please call me. I want to talk. 

Pride (and your current disastrous had-a-fight-with-a-tree-and-lost appearance) stops you from doing what you genuinely want to—picking up your phone and Facetiming him to sort it all out.

Not ready yet.

__

Two weeks later, it's mid-December, and you are sitting cross-legged on your living room floor with a big glass of wine, wrapping presents for friends, when your phone pings again. For a while now, almost every day, he has been sending links to Insta posts with adorable and hilarious content. Each of which you have enjoyed but couldn't bring yourself to reply to. This time, it’s a message.

BB: If you are available at the moment, please call me.

You stare at the little pop-up notification and take a gulp, a weird weight in your chest at the idea you might cave this time. Perhaps. Once you are done wrapping this gift. A few minutes later, your phone pings again.

BB: Okay, I assume no call means:

BB: (A) you can't take a call right now

BB: (B) you can, but you don't want to talk to me or 

BB: (C) you desperately do want to talk to me but are trapped under something heavy

BB: If it's A or C, please call me back later, doesn't matter what time

BB: Also, if it’s C, please call 999 if you are in danger, then call me after. I don't have any heavy-lifting equipment… 

You can't help but giggle at his gentle, silly humour, attempting to diffuse the tension. A large part of you wants to call; you even have the phone in your hand, but at the last minute, you rest it against your forehead with a sigh, something stopping you. Your stupid rebound fling being the biggest one, Benedict’s cutting remark about how quickly you let someone else into your bed, making your stomach roil. 

Still not ready yet.

—

“Obviously, she doesn't want to speak to me,” Benedict laments, his words muffled into a scatter cushion on Kate and Anthony’s sofa. 

It's the morning after they've returned from honeymoon, three days before Christmas. While they are thankful Benedict popped over with some basics to make breakfast, they could do without his melancholy—they’re much more about a ‘let’s have newlywed sex on the kitchen table’ vibe.

“What do I have to do? Get hit over the head? Be in some calamitous accident?” Benedict whines, twisting his head in aggravation as if trying to burrow himself head-first into the furniture.

‘What do we do?’ Anthony mouths to Kate, who throws her hands up defeatedly.

‘How should I know?’ she mouths back, frowning. ‘He's your brother.’

‘Your friend's fault,’ Anthony shoots back.

Kate crosses her arms and gets a look like a sour lemon, and he instantly regrets that line.

Benedict lifts his head to look up at them, and she has to stifle a giggle behind her hand at the deep red imprint of the cushion zipper on his forehead.

“If she wants to talk to me. She will call me back, right? I'm done with making an idiot of myself….” Benedict claims boldly.

__

You are sitting on the sofa at your childhood home early evening on Christmas Day, almost disgustingly full of Baileys (your mum's tipple of choice on this day) and Christmas pud, watching The Wrong Trousers - a family tradition - when your phone pings with a message.

It's from Benedict and your stomach vaults. You honestly thought after more than a week of silence, he had given up trying. And part of you was so sad. There is no text this time, just a video attachment. You excuse yourself to the downstairs cloakroom, taking a seat on the closed lid of the toilet, intrigued as to what it is.

The video starts with him looking directly into the camera, his handsome face filling the frame and making your stomach swoop again. Fuck, you have missed seeing it.

“Merry Christmas y/n. I hope you are having a nice time. I miss you, and I hate how we left things,” he opens honestly, “and when Bridgertons don't know what to do, we always act stupidly. It's our ‘thing’. So here, You can blame this on my genetics...”

The video cuts to black briefly and then fades into him, a huge 6ft lump, crowded behind a plastic toy piano on the floor, probably one of Daphne’s kids' toys. You instantly giggle at the ridiculous visual as he apes a maestro, closes his eyes as if about to play Chopin, and flexes his hands. Then, the tinny, electric sound of some familiar notes being played hesitantly begins. He isn't exactly a natural pianist.

“Hey, I didn't just meet you, And this is crazy, 

You know my number, So call me maybe,

It's hard to feel right without you, lady

You know my number, so call me, maybe…”

You are instantly laughing. He's such an adorable, charming idiot. Sitting behind a miniature plastic piano and playing, half in earnest, half in jest. At least his voice can hold a semi-decent tune. It brings an affectionate mist to your eyes even as it continues…

“Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad

I missed you so bad; I missed you so, so bad

Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad

And you should know that, I miss you now… so, so bad….”

For the last few words, he slows down the song and looks directly down the lens pointedly.

Something in his pleading look is the straw that breaks the camel's back proverbially, and with a slight tremor in your hand, you scroll to his name and hit the FaceTime button before you can think twice about it. The sound of the tone, as it rings, feels so loud, and each crisp ‘bringggg’ makes your nerves jangle. Just as you are about to hang up, the call connects.

“I'm sorry it took me so long to answer. I had to find a private spot.” he sounds a little winded.

“Where are you?” you frown, an unfamiliar background behind him.

“My childhood bedroom. Aubrey Hall.”

“Oh my god! Show me!” You enthuse, your initial equivocation derailed by nosiness, which you decide to frame instead in your mind as mere curiosity.  You never got to see it the wedding weekend for, well, reasons you don't want to dwell on right now.

He quickly flips the camera around, giving you an audio-guided tour of the room he grew up in. Dark blue walls with framed posters for his beloved Blur alongside Travis, Radiohead and Shaun of the Dead. Silly stick-on glow-in-the-dark stars on the high ceiling that are likely too high for anyone to bother getting out a ladder and peeling off. Shelves with little wooden car models he made with his dad before he died, mixed in with certificates of achievement from school, shiny brass archery trophies, and his early sketches in those cheap snap-in frames. And lastly, a collection of jagged small rocks and colourful pebbles. It makes you feel so very affectionate for little teenage Benedict.

“You are bloody adorable!” you blurt out, almost forgetting all the awkwardness from the past few weeks.

The camera flips around, and his lopsided grin fills the screen. “Thank you. I try to make a habit of it…”

You smile back and then sigh. “I’ve missed this,” you confess quietly, wistfully. 

“I’ve missed this too. You. Us. Can we please be friends again? Please? I know we both have a lot of things to talk about. With that night and all… but… can we reset? I need you, Bluey. I am miserable without my best friend,” he pouts, his raw honesty making your chest ache. 

It’s exactly how you feel, too. Except with a massive pang of regret that he seems to want to forget your magical night together. Sex is never like that, at least not for you—electric and addictive. Doing a reset to save your friendship feels like the most logical step. Still, it doesn’t stop the “what if” fantasies running in your head with increasing frequency, especially on a day like today—nostalgia, sentiment and overindulgence swirling in your being. 

“I would like us to be friends again,” you exhale, a lie by slight omission, drumming your fingertips on your cheek nervously to stop you from saying more. 

“Wonderful! Then it is so! I can’t wait to see you again! Are you going to the New Year's party? The one Simon & Daph are hosting at the Sky Terrace? Cos if you are, I was wondering, if you don’t have a date if we could go together? We always said we would be each other's plus one if neither of us is with anyone…”

That he wants to completely reset to that world makes your heart crack. You want to scream at him, ‘No! I want to be your real date! Pick me, for real, this time!’

“I… can’t do that,” you waver, and it comes off sounding tired.

“You have a date?” It’s soft, hesitant, trepidatious.

“No…” you admit, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea to go together like that. I… I can’t be your consolation prize anymore, Benedict,” you blurt out, the hurt taking over your tongue.

The look of stunned surprise on his face makes it worse. As if he had never even seen it from that perspective.

“That’s not what I….” he begins but is interrupted by a loud door bang as it slams into the wall and a yelling voice.

“Stop fucking hiding and get your bloody arse back downstairs. You can’t miss family dinner on Christmas Day!” Colin scolds loudly offscreen.

“I’ve got to go…,” he sighs reluctantly as an arm manhandles him up and off the bed. “Merry Christmas,” he adds, belatedly realising you both forgot to say it earlier on the call.

“Whoever it is, hang up. No one is more important than family on Christmas,” Colin gripes. “That’s it, I’m taking your phone…”.

The screen is filled with random shapes and loud noises as they seem to wrestle like children. And then the call suddenly disconnects. 

You sigh and tip sideways against the cold tile of your parents' cloakroom wall.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

__

Benedict takes stock of his surroundings. December 31st, 11:00pm, lying on his stomach on his sectional chaise, staring up at the big flatscreen on his wall.

This isn't so bad… he tries to convince himself. I've got Jools Holland’s Hootenanny - the only decent New Year's programme, some Glenfiddich and Mini Cheddars - the best snack there is… 

He sighs and realises how pathetic he sounds, even in his own mind, alone in an empty flat.

__

The man whirls you around, and you are almost thrown straight into Kate and Anthony.

“I should never have let you drag me to this,” you grouse so only they can hear.

They both shoot you an apologetic look until you are whipped away again. This man’s dancing style is more akin to a waltzer amusement ride than anything sensual or fun. Your shoulder is already aching. It's a far cry from the surprising salsa Benedict pulled out of the bag last New Year’s Eve. And the idle thought of him has you spiralling…

“Mind if we stop?” you puff as the band finishes the song with a flourish. He’s some slick European investment banking type, and really, you couldn't give two shits about offending him, merely your ingrained politeness kicking in.

He nods and goes off to grab drinks as you stand, hands on hips, trying to gather your breath as you watch all the people moving like a mass of limbs on the crowded dancefloor as the following number begins.

Why the fuck am I here?

__

This is much better… Benedict rationalises to himself as he wanders down the rainy, empty East London streets not far from his Hoxton pad. Who needs to be at a big, crowded party pretending to have a good time?

He pauses outside a trendy shop on Old St, selling overpriced crap that he's not even sure what it is.

See? I can do some window shopping. He tells himself silently—clutching at anything to distract himself from the creeping sense of dread in his gut. A slow twisting knife as he thinks about you dancing the night away, ringing in the New Year with some fancy, handsome man who definitely doesn't deserve you.

What does it matter to me? We are just friends. Best friends… the only friend I ever want to see every day… the only one who truly matters….

He has thought about how to repair the damage between you so much over the last few weeks that he's exhausted himself. Really, he just wants you back. All of you, ideally, but being realistic, any part of yourself you will let back into his life. The suggestion of a reset he made on Christmas Day being his cowardly way out.

—

You are fake laughing at the banker’s story as you lean around the pillar you are backing yourself against in an attempt to secure more personal space. Glad of the heated lamps and the glass overhang to shelter from the drizzle.

“I'm going home,” you growl.

“You’ll never find an Uber,” Kate points out deadpan as you turn back around and keep faking amusement.

__

Just as his thoughts spiral, Benedict hears a chuckle on the other side of the road. There, a couple are laughing together, wrapped in each other's arms, kissing, looking like no one else in the world matters… and it’s like a lightning rod hits him square in the chest.

Suddenly, all he can see are images of you, fluttering like motioned-filled playing cards from above, swirling into his eyeline, then floating onto the glistening pavement around him. Vignettes of his life and where you intersect at so many pivotal moments. The day he left uni - the car ride where you bickered like an old married couple, the day he moved to Paris - your dilated pupils and hitched breath on the Eurostar when he whispered in your ear, the unerring sympathy when you heard about his divorce, the way you held his hand when you wandered after dinner somewhere (he doesn't even recall where… only that it was with you), watching movies together on FaceTime, your incredulity when he confessed to his uneventful recurring sex dream, your surprise and, yes, arousal as he led you in the salsa dance, the way you tucked so neatly into his arms haunting him. And finally, how it felt to be buried inside your gorgeous body as you clung to him, calling his name like a siren song, intimacy like he has never known, the profundity of the connection petrifying the very life out of him. 

But as he stares down at his tatty old Converse, the same ones he wore the day you met, in fact, all he sees in the puddle beneath him is the simple truth he has been in denial about, possibly for a decade or more. Rippling refractions of your face - your knowing smile, bright eyes, your wonderful, happy expression…

And before his brain acknowledges it, his feet are moving….

Walking fast…

Then it’s a jog…

Then it’s a run….

.. his feet carrying him to the one place he knows with every fibre of his being he wants to be.

—

You wander as if in a daze, seemingly surrounded by nothing but couples, kissing, dancing, whispering, and it's the final straw. You spy Kate and Anthony sipping champagne together and slope over.

“I'm going,” you sigh.

“But it's almost midnight,” Anthony protests.

“Being surrounded by people kissing is just…” you shrug, melancholy creeping in like a clingy fog around your heart.

“I’ll kiss you,” Kate placates, and Anthony perks up to no end at that suggestion, nodding enthusiastically as you both roll your eyes, bemused. “Stay? Please?” she pleads, pouting and grabbing your hands.

“Thanks, Kate. But no. I have to go. Have a wonderful night,” you bid them, kissing her gently on the cheek. “Happy New Year,” you whisper as she returns the greeting.

__

Benedict's lungs are burning as he races down Old St towards Shoreditch, not far from where you celebrated last year. He ignores the ache in his muscles and keeps going, checking his watch to see 11:56pm and racing harder.

I need to be there at midnight!

__

As you walk to pick up your coat, a sight makes your heart leap into your mouth and stops you dead in your tracks.

There, rounding the top stair, casual in old faded jeans, those ancient Converse and a chunky knit jumper… is Benedict. Hair fluffy and dishevelled from the rain, out of breath and scanning the crowd desperately. As if he is seeking someone.

Then his eyes finally land on you, and your world tilts. 

Oh god, is he here… for… me?!?

Then he is striding purposefully towards you, and it seems like the crowds part. His eyes blisteringly intense, like they were on that fateful night. You try to school your face, aiming for casual indignance; you probably fail spectacularly— your heart thumping wildly.

“I've been doing a lot of thinking…” he begins as he pulls up before you. “And the thing is… I love you..”

Everything grinds to a halt, and your head feels dizzy.

This must be a prank, surely?

“What?” you stutter, disbelief rocking your core.

“I love you,” he says with a simple shrug as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ben.. I… what do you expect me to say?” you blurt out, floored.

“How about you love me too,” he smiles a tiny fraction, and you hate it.

You hate how RIGHT he is. Your body is a total jumble of live wires, but your mind is suddenly calm. It's like the clouds of your thoughts part, and it all seems crystal clear. And yet, something in your stubborn heart won't let you admit it. Terrified what it could mean to voice it.

“Look, Ben, I know it's New Year, and I know you may be lonely tonight. But please don't do this,” you implore haltingly, tears prickling hot in the corners of your eyes, “...not like this,” you whisper, defeated.

“Okay, how about like this….” he throws his hands up. “I love that you won't admit you love me. I love that you are looking at me like you want to kill me right now. I love that my body is screaming at me cos I ran here as fast as I could.” he gestures down at his slightly shaky legs.

“Ten seconds to New Year's!!” a loud voice blares out over the speakers.

“TEN!!” the crowd chants.

“I love that we are idiots who would never admit to how in love we are.”

“NINE!”

“I love that you are my blue lobster, rare and beautiful as a diamond but a delicious soft treat under that hard as nails shell….” 

“EIGHT!”

He tilts your chin to look up at him, a thumb swiping a tear you didn't even know had escaped. 

“SEVEN!”

“Don't leave me out here in the wind, y/n…,” he murmurs softly.

“SIX!”

“I… I love that you never give up,” you whisper so quietly even you can barely hear it. 

The smile that lights up Benedict’s face makes your whole being feel like the stars live inside your chest.

“FIVE!”

“I love that you take homemade salads on a road trip,” he smirks playfully, referring to the first day you spent together all those years ago.

“FOUR!” 

“I love that you kept your amazing dance prowess under wraps,” you laugh over a stilted snuffle, everything in you fizzling.

“THREE!”

“I love that I can still smell you on my clothes after we spend the day together,” he sighs, moving in closer, your eyes hypnotised by the movement of his cupid’s bow.

“TWO!”

“I love that you came here tonight,” you admit, your hands circling his forearms as you sway slightly in unison.

“ONE!”

“I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night,” he confesses, his lips ghosting over yours now, smiling crookedly even as he speaks.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!” the crowd chants.

All around you, party poppers go off, colourful ribbons of streamers, and the sound of glasses clinking fills the air. But it’s background noise, your whole focus on each other.

Finally, your lips meet, the fireworks under your ribs matching those in the skies above, the same as it was that first time weeks ago. You melt into each other's embrace, your kiss a seal of a pact and the promise of something new and infinite.

“For the record,” he rumbles, his minty breath hot on your lips, the strains of Auld Lang Syne ringing around the rooftop. “I'm not saying this because I’m lonely and not because it’s the New Year. I came here tonight because when you finally realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start…”

“...as soon as possible,” you exhale, completing his sentence with him as he nods, grinning from ear to ear. 

The drunken chorus around you gets louder; he chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ve never understood this stupid song.”

“I think it’s about remembering not to forget. Or not forgetting to remember. Or something,” you peal a laugh, knowing you are talking gibberish and not giving a damn. “Anyway, it’s about old friends,” you add pointedly, moving in for another spine-tingling, heart-melting kiss.

As you part, he cradles your jaw in his hands. “It was only ever you, y/n,” he sighs, hazy eyes burning into yours, his whisper fervent but contented into your skin. “It had to be you.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies

[shocymer]

Goodbye Summer

"The friend label is a label I'm going to hate. Our story ended without even started."

Pairing : Mingi x afab!reader

Word counts : 4k

Contents : highschool au, angst, flashback, lived by the beach, TW! mention of divorce, slightly depressed reader, miscommunication issue.

A/N : The fic is inspired by "f(x) - Goodbye Summer". It's been my favorite song since it was released (bcs relatable af). Also this one took a set in early 2000 with Taiyou No Uta as my reference. Oh btw I don't use japanese semester system, I matched it with how it goes in my country. I hope everyone enjoy it! ♡

2nd Year. Autumn 2006

You walked through the class corridor while sorting some papers from the student council. You heard fast paced step behind you,

“Better watch out girly,” he took your papers and continue running again.

He laughs maniacally, at some point he stop in the middle of corridor waiting for you to catch him up. As he saw you getting closer, he lift your paper high up. He amused by your action, struggling to reach those papers.

“Mingi! Can you stop!” You keep trying to reach it.

“Nah, I don’t want to,” he lift it even higher.

“If you don’t stop any moment, I’m gonna-”

“Hmm? Gonna what?” He put his face in front of you, staring into your eyes. You saw the opportunity as he lower his grip.

“Gonna grab this damn papers, thanks by the way,” you managed to get it, swiftly walk away from him.

He followed you, asking if you’re getting busy again as student council. You responded him with annoyance till both of you immersed in conversation as you walked back to your classroom.

2nd Year. Winter 2006

You blew your hands to heat it up. Today is awfully the coldest day since winter started. Silly you, you forgotten your mittens leaving it out nicely on your study desk. You keep cursing to yourself as you only brought limited hot pack and is enough for your stomach only. Everything’s ruined because the exam period.

“You keep blowing it like a freshly baked bread.” Mingi suddenly walk beside you.

You only gave him side eye. Too lazy to respond him. Like who the hell blowing a fresh baked bread out of the oven, that isn’t funny at all. You muttering some words and keep rubbing your hands.

He notice it before he took one of your hand and guide it to his winter coat pocket. He hold your hand tightly. You took a glance at him, he keep a straight face remain unbothered. It’s not the usual himself. You knew him that he’s a playful silly guy who always teasing you whenever he likes.

“Stay still if you don’t mind, I don’t bring mine too,” his eyes darting towards his hands.

You shrugged a little bit, nodding your head. “Thanks Mingi. We almost at school too.”

He smiled and grip your hand tighter in his pocket.

2nd Year. Spring 2007

“.. I like you,” faintly you heard a love confession.

New semester is just started and the vibe suddenly change. ‘New semester new you’ , ‘love is in the air’, and you blame the pollen scattering everywhere as it worsen your allergy. Just like the situation right now, you can find love confession almost every spot in the school including the stairs.

You never get the hype of other students cheering on it like an interesting show. And now you’re trapped, have been hiding for solid 7 minutes on the 3rd floor stairs. Afraid of make them feel awkward if you suddenly pass by them. So you politely hiding in your place. You’ve been on your flip phone to kill some time, but you’re growing impatient wondering who take a love confession so long.

Curiosity kills the cat like people said, you took a little peek between the railings. You saw the girl, but you’ve got no idea who she is. Then you tilt your head to get a better view, you saw the tall familiar figure. You recognize those side profile, those tall nose, and those eyes, it’s Mingi. Your heart sting for a while then you sat on the stairs quietly trying to grasp the situation. At the end you only heard their laughter slowly fading away.

2nd Year. Summer 2007

“Got some plans for summer?” Mingi poked your arms.

You lift your head trying to look at him. Headache taking over you as today is the last day of exam. 2 weeks of distress you only facing your books non-stop. And finally your hard work has paid of when the summer break getting closer.

“Dunno, gotta wait the result come out first.”

“Wanna go to the beach?” He asked you again.

You let out a heavy sigh, “I’m worried if I’ll take summer class.”

“We’re going afternoon, incase if one of us get that supplementary class,” he assured you.

You nod at him. He pat your shoulder before leaving you to talk to another classmate. Everything felt awkward after you saw him that day on the spring. First of all you’re not that close to him. Both of you only a casual classmate. But since that day, you tried your best to avoid him hoping it’ll hide the strange feeling in your heart. Deep down inside, you intended to move on from him hoping you can be your usual self. And this summer break is surely a perfect timing.

⁠✧

The summer breeze blew your hair gently, leading you to grip your hat tightly. Mingi told you to meet him before the railway that separate almost half of the town. You waited him, sitting on your bike. Your eyes look towards the sea from this distance. The beach is not difficult to reach, it only took 10 minutes from where you live. But going with him is a rare thing.

There’s still no sign of him. You pull out your flip phone, trying to check the time. Undecided whether sent him a message or not, you keep opening and closing his contact. During the summer break you didn't contact him at all. Still unsure about your feelings, you’re afraid of falling too deep. So you just wait for his message if he remembers those plan he made before. You reread his last message,

(Minkimingi) Meet me by the railway tomorrow afternoon, cya!

You let out a heavy sigh and finally send him one,

(You) Where are you? I might get carried by the wind cuz waiting you for too long.

The vibration startled you, didn’t expect him to replied you so soon.

(Mingkymingi) I don’t live by the shore my dear princess, please be patient.

Gasped by the nickname he gave, you slump your head to the bike handlebar. ‘Goddamit Song Mingi, I shouldn't have come, right?’ Still battling with your inner thought, suddenly you feel a cold sensation at the back of your neck. You turned quickly only to find him chuckling while holding a can of cold drink.

“As a good friend, I know you must be craving this,” he handed you the drink.

Yeah friend. You forced a smile before reaching those drink. Open it up instantly then chugging it. You’re observing him without you realize. He’s still in his summer uniform. As you guess he took the supplementary class. Beads of sweats rolled down his forehead, of course that’s the result of him riding his bike in a hurry. Till his eyes met yours, returning your gaze.

“I never expect you’ll suit in those white.. flowy.. dress..”

“Friends do not do that,” you put emphasis on your words by reflex.

“That?”

Without thinking you answered him quickly,

“complimenting each other.”

He ruffled his hair as frustration drawn on his face.

“Well.. let’s say it’s not a compliment, but what’s wrong with friends complimenting each other?”

Fed up by every time he mention that label, you pedal your bike away towards the beach leaving him alone. You heard him yelling from distance,

“we’re still waiting others! Where are you going?!”

“I’m tired of waiting, meet me at the beach!” You yelled back at him.

⁠✧

The sky began to show its golden tinge. The seagulls flew to and fro over the sea. The waves rolled rhythmically and some of your classmate surf on them. Everyone is enjoying this moment, some of them playing volleyball, some of them splashing the waters towards each other, then here you are sat on the beach while thinking about your original intention of coming here.

You guessed nothing changes. The fact you’re still bitter by him is irritated you even more. You’re eyes are always on his presence, knew damn well that he’s still looking good without even trying. Just like right now, he wear a loose black t-shirt damped by water mixed his sweat, school uniform pants still hanging on him, and those brushed back damped hair while riding his surfboard.

“Say cheese!” One of your classmates push the camera shutter. Capturing the summer break moments before the new school year starts. You couldn’t help but pose for a few photos, until you didn’t realize Mingi pulled your hand. He mouthed you to follow him.

Obediently follow him, you started pedaling your bike behind his. He took you to a higher place than the shore. Stopping his bike, he look back waiting for you. Not too long, you stopped right beside him.

“We can get a better view here,” he smiled at you while his hand is pointing the sky.

You raised one of your eyebrow in confusion. He chuckled by your expression. Then he continued his words,

“I don’t know what you’ve going through. Somehow lately you seems.. different. I hope this will makes you better.”

Suddenly some loud bursts heard along the night sky decorated by the flickering light of fireworks. Leading you spontaneously looking up at it. It’s beautiful just like him. Like the light in the midst of a dark frantic mind. Even the fireworks weren’t enough to keep you entertained, you end up staring at him. Capturing the way how the smile carved onto his face.

“I like you Mingi,” you said it in a whisper.

You know it won’t be heard. You know that he belongs to someone else. And you know he appreciate you as a friend. At least this will ease your feelings even just a little.

⁠✧

The nights were getting colder. Both of you walked side by side while leading the bikes towards home. You talked to each other properly after a couple of months dealing with your antics, avoiding mingi by making some excuses whenever he came close to you.

You stop at the railway, he continue to lead his bike till the other side of railway. He gave you a small waved. You return it while looking at his back getting further away.

“Mingii! I hope we’re in the same class next year!” You yelled at him.

He looked back, raised his hand to give an ok sign from a distance.

3rd Year. Spring 2008

You rushed out from your class only 2 minutes before the class started, not in the mood to be a good and obedient student today. You’re gonna exploded in any minutes, home is in a mess and so does your head. Still hesitated skipping class at the library or leaving the school, you stopped your step right in front of the school gym door. Peeking through the window, you saw someone is dribbling the basketball.

You open the door slowly, decided to skip your class here. Startled by the sound he look into your direction. You thought there’s another students but none of them. It’s only him.

“Oh.. Mingi?” Yes that’s him, who you never talk to since those summer. Both of you only passed each other for a few times. Just saying hello and nothings more. Human can only wish, but fate said the otherwise. It all happened because you’re completely in different class.

“Hey, what’s up,” he greeted you back before tossing the ball towards you.

You catch it, slowly dribbling it towards his direction. He played along with you, a wide smile adorning his face. Trying to grab the ball before he asked you,

“How’s life?”

You almost tripped taken aback by his question.

“Um.. yeah.. great I guess,”

Finally you passed him through then you managed to shoot the ball. Mocking him, you jump out of the joy. He put a ‘Just watch, I can do better’ expression towards you. The squeak of shoes and laughter filled the gym. Both of you were playing in the joy, even you forget all of your tangled mind.

The least thing you ever wanted coming all of a sudden. You saw your teacher’s silhouette through the window. You quickly grabbed mingi’s hand and guide him to hide under the window hoping your teacher won’t notice. Both of you stayed still for a couple of minutes.

He checked if it safe already, then decided to leave the gym quietly while holding your hand. You both tried to stifle the laughter and keep walking only to find your teacher waiting for you at the corner. It ended by the punishment after such a long tired lecture. Mingi and you were on the knees side by side while raising both of your hand right in front of the gym.

“Sorry, we're busted,” he whispered to you.

“It’s not even your fault, please don’t blame yourself,” you mouthed back to him.

After quite some times, he looked at you with a mischievous smile. You're pretty sure he got some wicked plan. He gave the signal by counting down in whisper. You take steps, risking for everything he’ll do. On the last count you both ran away from your teacher hand in hand, giggling all the way.

3rd Year. Summer 2008

Everyone gathered, some of them were hugging each other with laughter, and some of them were crying in joy. Today is the graduation day. Right after the graduation ceremony you strolling around the school, trying to recall everything that was happen for 3 years you studied here.

Library was your best friend in your senior year. You swept the bookshelf with your palm as you walk pass through it. Opened one by one of your favorite books, before putting it back to the shelf. You leaned to the wall, closing your eyes. Last year of school is the roughest. Your parents divorced, you lose the desire to make some friends, leading you alone in the most of your times, and you lost him in some type of ways.

You saw him from the window. He’s friendly as he ever be. Talking and laughing with his friends. He never changed and so does your feelings. He always be the one you’ve crushed the most. But you know your place and never engaged those feelings. You wondered if you can talk to him for the last time.

Your 2nd year classmates waving at you. Shouting from the schoolyard under where the other students gathered including him,

“Heyyy!! Come here!” They keep calling your name with the smile on their face.

“Yeahh wait for me!” You shouting back at them as you hurriedly left the library going down through the stairs.

When you reach the schoolyard, you throw yourself at them. Hugging them in joy. Tears almost rolling down your eyes, you didn’t talk too much with them either for the last year. Even though you passed each other at school, you’ve been busy by your own problems that ended up distancing yourself from others.

Your classmates keep taking pictures, asking you to join them. They’re busy pulling in everyone whoever been the same class with them to take pictures together. As all of your classmates are almost gathered, you positioned yourself to take a group picture. Your shoulder bumped with someone accidentally.

“Oh sorry, I don’t mean to-”

“No problem,” his eyes widen before he smiled at you.

It’s Mingi. He’s standing next to you, joining as you do. You took a glance at him, he lose the second button of his uniform already. You shake your head, then you look into your friend’s camera, ready to take the group picture.

Before you left the group’s photo session, he pulled your hand as if he wanted to say something. The expression on his face was hard to read until he finally sighed and smiled at you.

“What?” waiting on his response.

“Nah, nothing. See you later princess.”

He pat your shoulder for the last time before he left you standing alone. Your tears fell without you realizing it. There’s no “later” for you. You won’t be here and you don’t know when you’ll be back. At the end you only murmuring to yourself.

“That should be my line silly.”

Summer 2023

“Babe I remind you once more, don’t forget about today reunion okie.”

You chuckled, betting that she’s already telling you for a hundred times this week.

“I promise you I’ll come. Don’t you hear me right now? You can guessed where I am.”

The sound of crashing waves and birds chirping is in the background. You walk along the beach while on the phone with your friend. You just return to this town full of memories early in the morning.

“Wha- what! why don’t you tell me when you arrived?”

“It’s not a surprised if I tell you sooner.”

Both of you talked animatedly for a while until you ended the call, assured her for the last time that you’ll come to the class reunion.

15 years since you left this town to a completely opposite province. Moved to your mother's hometown, helping her business after your graduation the aftermath of your parents divorced. You lose contact with everyone and ended up missed two reunions. But somehow last week an unknown number called you. That was your 2nd year classmate back in the high school, excitedly inform you that there will be a reunion soon.

⁠✧

The restaurant atmosphere is filled with laughter by your friends, reminiscing their memories when they were still in high school. They chatted with each other lively. Some of them enjoying the dish while chugging the beverages, and some of them are curious about you due to your disappearance without a trace for years.

An hour passed by the event started. A figure you didn't expect and missed appears. He slide open the restaurant door. The same wide smile adorned his face as he greeted the others. Unless he looks much more mature. Short black hair neatly styled with a few strands fell over his forehead, glasses hanging on the nose bridge, a silver necklace with a cross pendant dangle on his neck, button up white shirt that it’s sleeve rolled up almost touching his elbow finished with a black vest and pants perfectly fit on his body.

The smile slowly faded when his eyes fall into yours. A look of disbelief crossed on his face when he saw you here. He brushed away those expression immediately then took a seat in front of you. You two exchanged glances for a moment. You wanted to talk to him, but your voice hitched. Heavy feeling fills your heart, opening up the old memories that you thought were all over.

He tapped his fingers on the table looking a little nervous. Occasionally sipping his glass of beer to divert it. Without realizing it, your eyes fell on his ring finger. A white gold ring circled his finger sweetly. Somehow makes you feel a little relieved to open up a conversation.

“It’s been a long time Mingi.”

“Yeah, good to see you,” he took a deep breath before continuing his words.

“You’re… gone. Just disappeared without a single notice.”

“I went back to my hometown.”

“Why don’t you tell me before?” He showed you the same expression as the last time you saw him.

“It’s just so sudden, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you”

He sighed for a second time,

“As long as you’re fine. That’s all.”

“I’m doing great. Thanks for your concern.”

You pat the back of his hand, assured him that you’re completely fine. He only replied you with a bitter smile.

“Listen.. listen! Guess what? I managed to print the damaged photo,” one of your friend raised a big photo album proudly.

“Why it seems like in every reunion you always got new photos for the same reason.” Chirped by the other friends.

“Shut up! You don't even know how difficult it is to repair an old damaged roll film,” she rolled her eyes.

She put the album to one of the tables before instruct them to take turns if they want to look at it.

“And.. this one for you.” She handed you a big brown postal envelope,

“everyone already got all of this photos. I don’t know why some of it are missing so others who likes taking pictures complete it, including him.” She pointed Mingi with her head.

“Ah.. thank you.” You received the envelope and looked at it carefully.

Meanwhile Mingi immersed on seeing the album. He turn the page one by one slowly. Sometimes he chuckles when seeing some funny moments. Until he noticed the page with unfamiliar photos.

Oh maybe this is the newly printed, he thought to himself. He always pays attention to you in every photos that was taken. Only to realized your eyes were always on him in almost every photos. He turned the page quickly to confirm that.

Before you open the brown envelope, Mingi tap your hand lightly.

“Can we talk outside? If you don’t mind.”

You nodding at him, proceed to follow him outside.

He took his glasses off, pressing the bridge of his nose with the thumb and index finger. Then he looked at you in miserable stare. You notice something doesn’t feel right.

“What’s wrong Mingi?”

He averted his eyes before pull out a wedding invitation to you. Stammering on his words,

“I’ll.. get married next month.”

It doesn't hurt that much when you receive it. You definitely expect it. However life still goes on doesn't it?

“Oh! Congratulation on your wedding. I hope you’ll enjoy your new life.” You tried to smile at him.

Clenched his jaw, he’s trying to suppress the frustration. He's been looking for you for almost 11 years. Until finally gave up in the last few years, and only to find you appeared at the class reunion unexpectedly.

“Is it easy to say that?”

You don’t quite understand what he really means,

“..isn't it easy as long as she's the love of your life?”

Lowered his head, reality just hits him back.

“Yeah.. Right..”

He pulled you into his arm tightly. You’re frozen by his sudden action, still trying to digest what was just happen. When you intended to let go, he told you his final request.

“Please let me hug you for the last time.. as a friend.”

⁠✧

Your eyes wandered out, sitting by the train window. It’s quite a long day, you take the last train after returning from the reunion. Can’t deny it, you feel ecstatic after meeting them.

Shifted your bag to grab the phone, your hand touched the brown envelope that was given to you earlier. You decided to pull it out from your bag, loosen up the strap to see it’s content.

You look at the photo by photo carefully. School festival, school trips, graduation day, and mostly summer breaks, everything’s stored well. Except one photo tucked in between has a contrast vibe.

The paper is duller and it was taken at night unlike the rest. You recognize it, that was your side portrait with fireworks in the night sky. You turn the photo over, there is the date and a small note written on it.

August xx, 2007

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it my princess?”

Covered your mouth in disbelief. Tight feeling rises in your chest made you lose focus till some photos fell over the train floor. You pick them out one by one while looking at it.

Your eyes automatically on him by the photos. He always looks at you from a distance just like you did. The tears flowed unstoppably. All this time he also felt the same way. You hate him who always hide behind the word “Friend” as if he’s pushing you away. You closed your eyes, it's all too late now.

“I liked you too Mingi.”

Only the sound of train tracks was heard afterwards.

⁠✧

The friend label is a label I’m going to hate.

The feelings I’ve hidden still remain as a painful secret memory.

The photos that can’t define our relationship is a heartbreaking story.

Our story ended without even started.

- Goodbye Summer

a/n :

They used analog camera that contains film roll in it.

"He lose the second button of his uniform." That means he already gave it to someone who's supposed to be important (romantically) because it's located near the heart. People believed it's same as giving your heart to someone. Based on japanese students when it's graduation season.

Cutie patootie looks like this in the reunion, minus the tie.

"The moon is beautiful" is a popular japanese phrases 「月が綺麗ですね」 (Tsuki ga kirei desune). It means "I like you."

[artycomicfangirl]

Princess Daisy’s Past, Her Family, and her Kingdom

Personal Headcanons List so far

—————————————————

Because it seemed like quite a few people were interested in some of my Daisy fan works. I decided to release this list of headcanons, which I actually found out I abandoned a while ago. Just decided to polish up and add more!

Before I go on, I just would like to add some context of my own kind-of AU and lore about Daisy’s father. (Since the fandom calls him Richard, I’ll be using that name too!) Some of these are just complete brainstorming. So in the future, info might change.

Now we got that out of the way, hope you enjoy this almost mini-book length lore, haha. Take your time, no pressure. But consider this as a little treat for those who love fan-lores and such!

—————————————————

Sarasaland’s History

Sarasaland was either a Barren wasteland, where 4 Kingdoms have been at each other’s throats for a long time in prior history.

Or, it was once a prosperous land. But one where it had been oppressed and enslaved by a crueler rule.

Whichever idea I was planning, it’s important to know that before Current Sarasaland, it was said to have been a bleak and dark place where “Not even flowers would even dare bloom”. The innocent folk there always dreamed of seeing beautiful fields of flowers.

There was supposed to be a miracle event that was recorded in a historical book entry about the day that Sarasaland was saved. From an account written by someone unknown:

“…Gone was the grey, somber Plume Filled Sky. When the Rays of light shone through, For the first time in ages, we saw crystal blue. Blessed by a miracle, the sight of flowers blooming all across the land. We have been kept in darkness for so long, now finally free from a cruel ironic-clad hand.”

—————————————————

Daisy and her Family

Daisy’s Father

I had ideas that Daisy’s Father may not even have originally been of royal blood at all. However, he ended up being the ‘Hero’ of his time long ago, when he and his comrades swore to save Sarasaland. And because of his spirit in battle and admirable leadership, he was chosen to be the King of the Land. A bit like Mario and Luigi being the signature heroes of Mushroom Kingdom.

The way Richard was crowned Prince could be similar to how Princess Peach would go through a process in the Super Mario Bros movie 2023. A time period of training, until he was very much ready to be crowned.

I 100% believe that this is a like Father, like Daughter situation. Daisy has inherited much more of her personality from her Father than her mother, and it shows. People would wonder how a Princess can be so battle-ready, rough and brave? Just take one look at her Father, and you’ll see why! She has very much inherited her his stubborn, and often at times very energetic and silly nature.

Personality wise, I assume that current Richard is overall, a tough man. A Veteran. He might look a bit too intimidating. But deep down, he still has a good heart that cares for the well-being of those around him.

Even more so, he melts when he’s around his wife. He adores his daughter even more so, because she is all he has left. So I guess we can believe with certainty, that Richard is definitely an overprotective type over things he loves and cares for.

When he was his younger self, he was more of a Bright-Eyed and determined youth. Leaning towards more of the stereotypical hero figure. Over time, he did learn to become a stronger and good leader. But as he grew older, there show the traces of a slightly grumpy older man.

There was that point where he did made sure to keep a child Daisy in the confines of the castle, right after losing his wife.

At first, the subjects and other 4 Kings thought this was a necessary and appropriate idea. But a while after, they started to think that the Princess might be sad if she was to constantly be watched over and told to stop doing things and be careful.

The King’s mindset would end up changing, when he finds a Diary that his wife used to own around the time when they were both still Prince and Princess.

The contents of the diary contained deep, poignant feelings and emotions. The most that moved his heart, was when she would describe her love for the King. All in all, Richard got an insight of his late Wife’s thoughts. Her happiest moments showed how genuine, kind and free the Queen felt, and how much of a beautiful person she was inside and out.

It was then Richard decided to do what was right, and to raise his Daughter to not always just be cautious and meek. But to be brave, carefree and unafraid, letting her flourish to be her best self. So that in the future, he would be able to have more faith in Daisy being able to take care and fight for herself.

At the beginning, He began teaching Daisy at a young age on how to fight and defend herself, along with giving her scholars that teach her about Sarasaland’s history. It’s a bit later that Richard had the idea of Daisy being also mentored by the 4 Kings in Sarasaland. This is the reason why Daisy is so headstrong and strategic as she is now. Also opening for the idea of her having a close familal relationship with the other Kingdoms, and how much they trust and have faith in her.

I actually thought it would be an interesting take to get some inspirations from the 1993 Daisy in the live action Super Mario Bros movie. A personal Headcanon (And inspired from her original personality), is that despite being a tomboy, Daisy values and treasures history and culture. Being quite knowledgeable in some things across the cultures of the 4 Kingdoms under her rule.

It’s because Richard wanted Daisy to be able to know her kingdom like the back of her palm. In fact, Daisy’s vast knowledge with certain historical things comes off as a surprise to most others. It may be even implied that Daisy could even be able to read and speak certain languages. Funnily enough, Daisy is also quite savvy when it comes to financial things.

But with Daisy being Daisy, she is more of an assertive Soldier/Leader. A bit different to Peach being a calm and caring Diplomat.

On the Day Tatanga made his presence known, the King only found out about the invasion during his usual visitings with the Palace Scientist’s (A bit like their version of Prof E. Gadd).

One of the Scientists gave reports about how for the past few days, there have been strange activity of something entering and lingering within the world’s Atmosphere, Somewhere above Sarasaland. This strange activity would try to emit signals. which each time, seem to grow more powerful every day.

After Richard asks when the next signal could be predicted, all computers and systems were hijacked. Each and every communicative technology displaying a sinister message, Implication of an invasion. The King immediately took action, initiating an entire announcement throughout the entire land. However, they were little too late.

The Main Sarasaland Palace was seized as Tatanga and his army would make his appearance. But not wanting to give up, The King was able to cause a rebellion. Sparking the first Battle with the Alien Army.

At this point is where I thought of the idea that originally, it seemed like that Both the King and his daughter were going to escape together, trying to reach one of the Warp pipes.

However, the big reveal was that The King had only wanted to assist his Daughter in making sure the Future Heir of Sarasaland, would escape safety. Richard would stay and fend for the Kingdom he swore to protect. As he said “Much like your mother did in her last moments, before they took her away.”

Richard believed that because The Aliens had been above their land for quite some time before they attacked, they had been surveying the land down below. And in turn, knew everything on what to expect. If Daisy were to escape, it was highly likely that she could reach other Kingdoms in time and ask for help, places where Tatanga would have not been able to reach just yet.

Daisy initially refused to leave her Father. But at the end, Richard ordered the Sphinx King Totomesu to take Daisy away to the last warp pipe. And that once Daisy was able to be transferred successfully, to destroy the Warp pipe afterwards. The last thing that Daisy saw before she was knocked out from the Warp Pipe being destroyed, was her father and the other 4 Kings going right into battle.

Usually I would go the route of “Parents have died” route. But I’m juggling with a potential idea that in fact, both of Daisy’s parents are not actually dead. She may have initially thought so. But both her Mother and Father in both occurrences, have only been taken away. But in Daisy’s case, she has witnessed Tatanga perform the mind control across almost all residents of Sarasaland.

It is through her Father’s will, which drives Daisy to take back and free her Kingdom and her father.

—————————————————

Daisy’s Mother

(She is sort of like a Fan Character/Oc at the point. And because I have a name for her, I’ll be referring to her as such here!)

Queen Laelia. A woman of knowledge and intellect, A preserver and appreciator of history and culture. She is pictured to be calm, elegant, kind, gentle and wise. However, she is also known to be firm and confident when it comes to decision making. Yet also understanding and more willing to hear the perspectives of anyone to gain an understanding of them.

Her Namesake is inspired from the Laelia Orchid flower, known for its purple colour. She might have some hint of magical abilities, or has a connection with magical places or objects.

Laelia could potentially be a descendant of long past ancestors from Sarasaland. That, or her ancestors were known to have an old holiday home/territory/Base somewhere located within one corner or Sarasaland. However during her time before she met Richard, she only knew life of her own Kingdom, located across the sea.

Because of this, she always felt like there was a ‘calling’ for her to one day see Sarasaland. Yet, she couldn’t quite place why. Her name might serve as a little indicator that Her Ancestors adopted the floral naming ideas, showing how deep their connection with the homeland runs.

Surprisingly, It’s Laelia whose main role as the Botanist/Plant specialist in the family. Daisy just ends up sharing and taking up similar hobbies and passions as her Mother did. But Daisy might more under the Explorer/Archaeologist role.

A young Princess Laelia would have met a Prince Richard when she was arriving to Sarasaland. Her Royal family treated this trip as a big deal, as this would be the first time they were able to set foot on Sarasaland docks. About a year or more prior, was when the news of Sarasaland being saved became public celebration.

The Princess and her family were impressed at the efforts for the 4 Kings in making the most of their efforts to restore Sarasaland to its former beauty. And even moreso shocked, as the Princess was always told that for the longest time, Sarasaland had lost its beauty and flowers. Yet here, the land was now thriving with no more war.

Laelia’s Interactions with Richard began when the Prince offered to give her a tour of Sarasaland, when she personally asked to be able to learn more as a part of her research and studies. Surprisingly, the Prince took up the role of Acting almost like a guide or advisor to her and her family.

This would lead to The Princess being curious as to why he offered to personally guide her, instead of sending a subject instead. The Prince mentions how much pride and love he has for the land. And how he will always wholeheartedly be a supporter to advocate for how much the Land changed him for the better. It was his job to oversee as much of the responsibility he can, so all of the civilians can live life in peace and free from worry. However, he mentions that if the Princess would like to have interviews with some of the local folk, he’ll gladly let her.

While Laelia’s family had to return to their kingdom, she opted to stay in Sarasaland for a while in order to keep watch, and to learn more about the development and culture. She promised that she would come home some time after them.

However, during this window of time, the Princess was slowly growing attached to Sarasaland. And unbeknownst to her, The Prince was the first to Harbor feelings for her as time went on. This would all build up throughout more interactions with the Prince, and soon ended up falling in love with one another.

When it was time for her to go back to her kingdom, she of course felt sadness when Even when she promised that one day she will return. But at that point, the thought of not being able to see Richard again made her feel down.

This would later be picked up by a family member (Could be mother, uncle, aunt or sibling ect) who couldn’t help but be concerned about the Princess. At first, the Princess tries to hide this, as her time there was meant to be strictly professional. But said family member would put the pieces together. Commenting how they noticed that from reports they heard, Laelia looked like she belonged there. That she had a newfound happiness.

This would later become a process of Laelia discussing with her Father. The King arranging to return to Sarasaland again with his daughter. And after some further discussion between two Kingdoms, there would come to an agreement that re-uniting and reforming an alliance that was once broken, would be the first beneficial step for both Kingdoms.

After a Wedding being arranged and taken place in Sarasaland. The Princess would gain her title as Queen, and the Prince now became a King.

Some time after, The Queen would give birth to their first and only child, A Daughter. They decided to name her Daisy, after the Queen’s favourite flowers.

(*NOTE!! At this point I’m not so concrete and fleshed out on this part of the story next, so these are just potential ideas)

The Queen would be able to be with her Daughter throughout most of her early childhood. However, the first life-changing incident would happen at a festival at the Queen’s home Kingdom.

During the yearly festival, an attack was made where a Villain wanted to take something from the kingdom. Maybe an object that radiated energy or held ancient secrets and knowledge that kept the kingdom thriving. A planned mission. All in all, if this object was taken, the Kingdom would call into Chaos.

At this point, there may be an implication that Daisy’s Mother has a magical ability. ( a Hand Power?? Similar to Firebrand or Thunderhand?) Maybe always born with one. So even when the enemy had failed to take the Prized object. They unfortunately managed to take Daisy’s Mother away. And the little Princess had witnessed it all.

Both Kingdoms were left grieving immensely after the incident. And even as both sides tried to heal over time, this was where Richard would have developed that time period of protectiveness over his Daughter for a little while.

[zero-max]

Just some silly little concept sketches I did for the amazing @asteral-feileacan for the Vaderkin Creative Exchange 2024!

These are my ideas for a zombie/apocalypse au where the golden trio are among the few survivors. In my head this would also function as a post/alternative ROTS au, where instead of falling to the darkside he's presumably killed by zombies, making everyone assume he's dead or turned (which is just my excuse to give him a shit ton of scars). Obi-Wan and Ahsoka end up teaming up and traveling the galaxy together, trying to help people where they can while fighting zombies along the way.

I had plans to make a bigger piece but I ended up spending way to long with drawing out my concept ideas, but I still hope you enjoy what I cooked up plus my silly au thoughts. ^^

Full page spread under the cut^^

[cyborgpuppyofficial]

so why do you like Scourge the Hedgehog? What got you interested in him?

Yo my first ask!!!! Thank you so much for asking me a question, and to anybody else, I'll always be happy to respond to questions you may have about me or my oc's. Anyways, this is gonna be kinda long. ^^'

Long Explanation: So I've always liked Scourge design wise, ever since I was pretty little. Maybe about seven was when I saw him for the first time? I used to mistake him for Manic, but eventually learned the difference. When I learnt he was an Evil Counterpart of Sonic, I was hooked on him. I've always been a fan of AU's, and the concept has been something I loved to write for a very long time. Since I was young, I didn't understand his character, and wrote him in a dumb way when I was younger. Usually as a generic bad boy antagonist in Sonic High School AU's and stuff...

Later on during 2019, I was bored and decided to read more of the Archie Comics. That's when I learnt his backstory, and I became HOOKED on his universe, and the other Anti Counterparts. I began doing research, and I ended up starting a Gacha Life Shorts Show called The Misadventures Of Moebius on Tik Tok. It's still currently going, and I genuinely have fun writing it. It's mostly just me expanding on Anti Mobius, since the Archie Comics came to an end, and we never got to see many things from the universe. Many of the early episodes are inaccurate to my thoughts on most of the characters nowadays, and how they act. But to be fair, it's my first ever series, and I was only about 12 when I began making it for the first time. And at that point, I didn't even finish reading Archie like a dummy. I basically wanted to make silly shorts with some goofy characters I liked.

AUGH SO CRINGE AUGHHH. TmT

I appreciate his cool design, and the many writing opportunities he holds. It's easy to see Scourge as all evil, and write him as a cool villain. This is because of his cocky and rebellious demeanor. But it's also just as easy to see him as a misunderstood and not all evil character, which is how I personally see him. I think the idea of him and his father would've been cool to see more of, since obviously Scourge's home life effected the way he turned out growing up. And that if he's with the right people, he could've been just like Sonic! Kind of like an inverse on what he says to Sonic during one of their battles. In other people's AU's he's still a bad guy, but in my own I redeemed him. The nuanced way that people can see his character is a reason why I love him so much!

Plus, I like how he isn't super crazy like other Archie Sonic Villain's. Sometimes he's just kind of a dickbag, and I always enjoy someone who can be threatening, but also silly. I don't love everything about his character of course, he has some things that I try to forget about with his writing. But that's basically the case for every single character I like from anything ever. XD

I love this little shit so much. XD

TLDR:I've liked the green goober for a while now, but only since 2019 have I been more public about my love for this dummy. I love the idea of his universe, I like the many paths writers can take his character, and I just think his personality is really fun.

If you're interested, bellow is a work in progress on my Headcannon/AU Scourge that I use in my TMOM Episodes and videos! I hope to draw him, and the other cannon cast more often. And maybe interacting with my Anti Counterparts I made, or original characters from his universe I've built up for five years now. But I'm starting out by just making him a ref page. My next post will hopefully be him, or my next video. ^w^

I'm making this design for a video! And also just for fun! I can't wait to share the final with ya'll! X3

[rikitachiquita]

bananas for you 🍌 || s. jake

•synopsis: y/n didn't really enjoy science but her crush did. and a silly experiment on bananas might help her with said crush

•genre: oneshot, y/n x jake, highschool au, written (0,5k words) and screenshots

Science was not y/n’s favorite subject. But indeed it was jakes. 

Obviously, like a normal teenage girl at school, since her crush liked one subject, she had to like it too. And she also liked having good grades, so studying wasn’t that. Either way, if she ever failed the subject she could ask Jake to tutor her. But that was her secret plan b.

Today was a very fun day, because it was lab-day. They would be doing some type of experiment related to the dna, the topic they were learning lately.

The teacher caught your attention “Ok class, today we are going to extract DNA from bananas” the whole class let out a little gasp, excited to be doing something different than usual.

“But before that, let’s have a brief introduction. Did you know that all bananas share the same dna?  They are all clones! and there’s only one type of banana that is eaten in the entire world! That's why they are always endangered: if they get infected by a parasite, they risk extinction. that already happened in the 50s: your great grandparents probably ate a different kind of banana that doesn’t exist anymore because it was infected by the parasite of panama. And it’s possible that we won’t have bananas in 50 years” the teacher explained

“Ok now i’ll make small groups of 4 people to do the experiment”

He made the groups and you ended up with Danielle, your best friend, Heeseung and Jake. jake. your crush. This was going to be fun.

The first step was to take a banana and smash it very well until it was basically liquid.

“Smash the banana” said Heeseung to Jake

“But maybe the girls want to do it. y/n do you want to do it” Jake said

“I don’t but I know Danielle and she can’t wait to do it.” You responded with a smile and gave Danielle a funny look. your best friend seemed very happy that you mentioned that. She quickly took the spoon and started smashing the banana. Heeseung in the meantime, was taking videos to make a report later on.

“Do you know what she is saying?” asked Jake, close to your ear so you were the only one that heard the question. she was referencing to danielle, who was still smashing the banana, while also singing quietly the same part of a song

“Chulo.” you responded

“What?” asked the boy

“Chulo, that one reggaeton song that is really catchy”

“Oh my god I love that song actually” he said smiling fondly. his smile was so pretty that it almost made you mad

“Do you also like reggaeton?” you asked surprised, since he didn’t look like the type of guy to listen to that kind of music.

“Yeah I actually do, surprisingly. You do too, right?”

“Yeah, it fills me with energy, especially in the morning when i don’t feel like getting out of bed” you admitted

“Y/n, we should go to that one cafè place that only puts reggaeton together after school” Jake proposed with a small smile

“That is such a good idea, I can't wait” you responded, blushing.

The experiment was long forgotten

masterlist

• author's note: another fruit one shot cause they are so fun, i love them!!!! i did this experiment at school last week, so yeah i had to make this. i hope the science part is actually right 😭 anyways yeonjun being the teacher is so funny to me. check the other fruit one shots!!

[antiv3nom]

Bedman (Romeo)

omg havent had an excuse to talk abt bedman in a hot minute thank u anon...

favorite thing about them:

i love the tragedy of his story arc... that feels like a weird thing to say but its the first thing that came to mind! just. look. the road to hell paved with good intentions bit taken to the extreme really works here!!! the idea that he remembered the name of every person he ever killed because he was under the impression he could bring them all back, only to have the rug pulled from under him? hurts me! in the best way!!!

other than that i do enjoy his design, both romeo himself and the bed :] i wanna give my bedman cosplay another try sometime for sure, it didnt work out for various reasons but i have most of the components and would enjoy cosplaying him fr in the future

least favorite thing about them:

i think i dont really dislike anything about the way bedman is written in the source material strongly enough to point it out here? i think my main gripe is the way the fandom treats him to either extreme, like theres "bedman did nothing wrong ever" people and "bedman is horrific" people and i wish both camps would chill out and recognize hes like. a complex character? but i do think most people do this already which i can appreciate

favorite line:

im a little obsessed w his win line against may in xrd

"I do not understand humans who are motivated by love. A person is born, lives for a number of years, and interacts with up to eight billion people. What proof is there of something they can't even define?"

bc like. buddy. you dont even realize it. YOURE driven by love. all this shit wasnt just for yourself but it was for delilah too!!! fuck!!! you dont even see it as love you see it as necessary because shes that important to you!!! and dont even get me STARTED on the bed in strive and how its still running because of his last minute code additions which almost act as the last part of his will to protect delilah. GAHHHH

brOTP:

BEDMAN AND AXL INTERACTIONS. PLEASE. PLEASE. their dynamic is so interesting as characters with such fascinating ways of interacting with the world...gah. GAH. and no one fucking talks about it!!!

OTP:

sinbed. must i wlabo.

ok but i will, im not as into them as i was like a year ago but i still do really enjoy their dynamic. sin being such a beacon of hope and being so willing to see people as good contrasted with a post-xrd living bedman (bc all my sinbed stuff exists within au but im having fun out here so sue me) seeing himself as inherently evil due to his actions despite his intentions and believing no one would ever care for him? it hits for me

nOTP:

i dont know of anything off the top of my head that ive seen for him??? nothing prevalent at least.

actually on second thought i think ive seen like one instance of bedman and ram in a romantic sense, and that im not a fan of but i guess i could see the appeal, just not my thing

random headcanon:

this motherfucker would have gotten heated in some internet forums or wiki talk pages, DEDICATED to accuracy out here and he WILL fight you about it

unpopular opinion:

not entirely certain i have one? i think the "bedman while flawed is not actually a terrible person and was doing his best given his extremely fucked up circumstances" is a pretty cool take by this point for most people

i think the only thing i have is that my interpretation of bedman has always been as like a young adult rather than a kid but like i dont really have a concrete opinion on that and i totally understand people who do see him as a kid like its entirely understandable to do so

song i associate with them:

other than his character themes, its GOTTA be dramaturgy by eve, which just. it gives the vibes. read the english lyrics it will make sense i prommy

favorite image of them:

THE EEPER...

OTHER than this one its more an animation but his 6p in xrd is so silly i love it so bad...and for a more serious option his instant kill is really cool

[witty--fool]

Fallout: Vampire/Werewolf AU

Ok, so this started as a Hancock/oc sole vampire/werewolf AU in my silly little head... But it's spilled into a full blown supernatural/steampunk/gothic reimagining of the game? I'm probably going to write snippets of my ideas of this to post on Ao3. But I've written up an AU overview, and honestly? If I don't post it rn I'll explode. Kinda long, hope you enjoy. (I'll probably add more post as I add more character/locations)

Overall

The bombs still dropped, the Great War occurred and robots still roam– but the Commonwealth is more of a gothic wonderland. Radiation having permanently darkened the skies. Supernatural entities existed before, but more have been created as a result of the radiation. Like sole/Mary–Anne, the only known werewolf, created by Institute experiments with DNA splicing and radiation. 

Goodneighbor

Tucked deep into the dense, mist-shrouded woods, Goodneighbor has become a hidden refuge for the supernatural and the outcasts of society. It is a sanctuary where the unwanted and the feared come to seek safety from the harsh realities of the post-apocalyptic world. Goodneighbor didn’t exist before the bombs dropped, instead, it is a creation of the last two hundred years or so. Created by mayor Hancock with help from his closest advisors, Nick Valentine and Fahrenheit. 

Locations from the game still exist, but I’ve changed them to fit ti gothic landscape better. Such as: The Old State House is now just The State House. Hancock’s grand manor in the middle of the village. The Third Rail is now a tavern, the Memory Den is now more like a…place where the line between dead and living are blurred. Where people can make connections with the spirits of the long sense deceased. 

Goodneighbor is a myth, a legend. But some factors vehemently believe in it’s existence. The Brotherhood of Steel, hunters of all things unnatural, have strived to hunt down Goodneighbor, and more so, it’s mythical mayor. The Institute is sure of it’s existence as well, suspecting that’s where it’s wolf human hybrid experiment has escaped to.

Mayor Hancock

Still the mayor of Goodneighbor. Hancock is a centuries old vampire, he wasn’t always a ghoul though. Having existed centuries before the bombs dropped, but the two hundred years of being surrounded by relentless radiation has changed him into a ghoul.

He still sports the radiation scared skin of a ghoul, but his skin tone is more of a marble/ashen gray. His eyes are still the dark pits that they were in the game–but now they take on a red hue.  His gaze can be hypnotic, almost entrancing, capable of lulling people into a sense of trust.His fangs are a defining feature, longer and sharper than normal human teeth (as all fangs are).  When retracted, they barely peek from under his lips, giving him an unsettling smile, but when extended, they are vicious. Hancock’s fangs are imperfect and jagged–maybe even chipped. 

Hancock still sports his signature tricorn hat. The hat is worn and weathered but now features subtle, intricate embroidery along the edges, stitched in dark, shimmering threads. His hair, or what’s left of it, falls in uneven golden locks from underneath his hat. 

His clothing is basically the same. He still has his iconic red coat–but it is more regal,  No longer frayed at the seams, the coat’s rich, velvet texture seems both old and expensive.  The coat flows around him as he moves, as though he’s gliding through the air rather than walking.

 Beneath the coat, Hancock wears a deep black waistcoat over a loose, cream, billowing poet’s shirt. His waistcoat is embroidered with swirling dark patterns, almost like vines crawling across the fabric. The buttons of the jacket are pure gold, and the collar of his shirt is open, revealing part of his pale, scarred chest.

 Hancock’s pants are fitted and black, made from a leather-like material. His boots are worn leather, knee-high, and reinforced with metal buckles. The boots are heavily weathered, with scuff marks and dust.

He wears several rings on his fingers, each one unique. Some are simple golden bands, while others are adorned with dark gemstones—onyx, garnet, and blood-red rubies.

As a vampire, Hancock is known to not control his hunger well. Going as long as possible between feedings, is it because he dosen’t want to feed? Or is it because he’s too caught up with the responsibilities of keeping Goodneighbor, safe–and hidden?

Mary-Anne/The sole survivor

Once a normal Minuteman solider, Mary-Anne was captured by The Institute when her squadron was cornered by synths. In The Institute she was subjected to a variety of horrific and painful experiments. Primarily using gene splicing and radiation. Somehow, someway,  they introduced lycanthropy into the wasteland.. They broke her down mentally, trying to make the wolf DNA and instincts fully consume her. The scientist wired her so that both her transformation could be periodically triggered by the full moon, as well as by high amounts of radiation. Like that produced by a radstorm, or a potent injection. The Institute forced change after change, curious as to the effects of their sick experiment. Eventually, The Institute flew too close to the Sun, and Mary-Anne grew powerful enough to escape in her wolf form. Changing back into a human just in time to use a teleporter to escape.

She pops out deep in the woods outside of Goodneighbor, naked (bc werewolf transformation) and being chases by a multitude of gen 1 and 2s. She’s able to unknowingly make it to the gates of Goodneighbor. Where she’s lucky enough to have the guards gun down the approaching synths. 

From here, Finn, another vampire, suggests turning her out, seeing as she almost led the Institute right too them. Hancock appears from the shadows (and basically the ~iconic~ Hancock intro scene takes place.)

From there, Hancock takes her under his wing–and eventually they start a relationship. It’s a long time before he learns of her werewolf nature.

Mary-Anne is a woman of about thirty years, her eyes are a deep green, a shining emerald when she’s forced into her wolf form. She has long, black hair, down past her hips.

In the safety and quiet of Goodneighbor, Mary-Anne favors long, flowy gothic dresses that sway with her movements. The dresses are often in shades of deep crimson, black, or emerald green.  The lace-trimmed fabrics and corseted bodices make her feel connected to who she was, even as the wolf tries to consume her. While outside Goodneighbor, on trips or helping with patrols, she opts for a more practical approach. Wearing old, battle hardened road leathers. 

Every time her clothes are destroyed by a transformation. Hancock is always quick to replace them. He never seems bothered by the destruction, finding joy in seeing her comfortable and prepared, whether in leathers or lace. It's one of the ways he shows his affection and understanding—quietly making sure that no matter how many times she shifts into the wolf, there will always be something new waiting for her when she returns to her human form. He is also always quick to rush to her side when she transforms back into a human, wrapping his coat around her, preserving her modesty (something that is very important to her) before she can get proper clothes on.

When forced to transform, more often than not against her will, her once-human frame expands, standing nearly seven feet tall on hind legs. Her long, black hair remains a part of her, now blending seamlessly into the thick, glossy black fur that covers her body. 

Her face elongates into a sharp, feral snout, lined with razor-sharp teeth capable of tearing through flesh and bone with ease. The fangs, white and gleaming, are long and deadly. Her ears, now pointed and alert, twitch at the slightest sound.. Her nose, keen and powerful, can pick up scents far beyond the range of any human or normal wolf, for that matter.

Her transformation into this form is a brutal one, often leaving the remnants of her shredded clothes scattered in her wake. The change is fast and violent, bones snapping and reshaping as the wolf takes over. When she stands in this monstrous form, there is a wildness about her, but a controlled ferocity—she is not a mindless beast. Mary-Anne in her wolf form is still aware, still driven by her desire to protect those she loves, even if her human side struggles to stay in control.

Nick Valentine

Nick is still a synth, and is still haunted by the memories of a pre-war cop. But now, after waking up in the Institute’s garbage pile, he found his way to Goodneighbor. His smarts and his analytical nature has served him well as Hancock’s most trusted advisor. Nick acts as a foil to Hancock’s more passionate nature. Forcing him to slow down, and really think about his decisions. Especially when it comes to Mary-Anne. He estimates that he’s about one hundred and fifty years old, strangely, making him one of Goodneighbors younger residents. Among all the ghouls and vampires (Goodneighbor’s primary populations).

His mechanics are more clockwork/steampunk. With his skin taking on a tarnished copper hue. The lines of his artificial skin seem almost carved, like the visage of an ancient statue brought to life. Peaking out from the rips and tears in his synthetic skin are various cogs and gears. He makes a faint ticking sound when the room is deadly silent. His glowing neon eyes from base game are now a dimly glowing gold. 

 Gone is the detective’s trench coat and fedora. Here Nick wears a finely tailored, Victorian-inspired ensemble, albeit with patches in some areas from the inevitable wear and tear of over a hundred years. He is dressed in a deep, charcoal-black waistcoat with copper embroidery tracing along the seams. Over the waistcoat, he wears a long, dark coat that flows around him, made from rich, heavy fabric. The coat has a high collar and brass buttons, each adorned with delicate, swirling engravings. 

Underneath, Nick wears a crisp, high-collared shirt.The cuffs of his shirt are visible beneath his coat sleeves, fastened with brass cufflinks. Around his neck, he wears a simple, dark cravat. On his head is a sleek velvety top hat.

 Nick’s hands, still mechanical, have a more polished, clockwork-like appearance. His movements are smooth, yet slightly mechanical, giving him the presence of something between a man and an automaton. He frequently keeps his hands gloved in dark leather, though the slight clink of metal can be heard when he moves.

He still struggles with the identity issues that he has in-game. The inbetween space between man and machine. A tin man, haunted by the memories of a man in the distant past who was loved, deeply and truly loved.

Fahrenheit

Still Hancock’s body guard. Fiercely protective and almost always by Hancock's side, she is not only a skilled enforcer but also a lethal, vampiric presence within Goodneighbor. Her vampiric transformation has made her even more focused, cold, and dangerous. She has embraced the strength and immortality that vampirism offers, becoming a ruthless enforcer for Hancock and Goodneighbor. Her bond with Hancock runs deep—he trusts her implicitly, and she, in turn, serves him with unwavering dedication.

Residents of the town speculate it’s Hancock who turned her. But Fahrenheit denies this, although she’s never offered an alternative explanation.

In Goodneighbor, Fahrenheit is both feared and respected. She is Hancock’s shadow, always present and watching, ensuring that no threat gets close to him. While Hancock is the face of Goodneighbor’s leadership, Fahrenheit is the enforcer who makes sure his orders are carried out. The people of Goodneighbor know that to cross Hancock means dealing with Fahrenheit, and her reputation as a relentless protector precedes her.

She still wears practical, protective gear, but her armor is now enhanced with dark leather and steel accents. She dons a long, black leather duster, similar in style to Hancock’s coat. The coat is reinforced with armored plating beneath the leather, and dark steel buckles and rivets adorn the cuffs and shoulders. The coat’s high collar is embroidered with subtle, intricate designs, similar in motif to Hancock–showing her role and relation to him. Beneath the coat, Fahrenheit wears form-fitting black leather pants and a dark, corset-style vest lined with steel trim. Her boots are heavy and steel toed.

(Side note: If you haven’t picked up on it yet– Hancock→ gold, Nick→ brass/copper, Fahrenheit→ steel.)

Though Fahrenheit has fully embraced her vampiric nature, there is a part of her that remains haunted by her past humanity. She remembers the days before she was turned, when her strength and survival depended on her human grit and willpower alone. While she outwardly shows no signs of weakness, she sometimes struggles with the cold detachment that comes with being a vampire—constantly reminding herself of the line between protector and monster.

Codsworth

Here, essentially his role and personality are the same, except he is Hancock’s dedicated mechanical Butler. He’s a lot more steampunk/clockwork. 

Codsworth is responsible for maintaining Hancock’s estate, ensuring that everything from repairs to daily chores are handled efficiently. He oversees any other robotic staff or helpers in the household, ensuring that the estate runs smoothly.

Though just his butler, Codsworth acts as an informal advisor to Hancock. He offers calm, measured advice, particularly in moments where Hancock’s more emotional or impulsive nature may cloud his judgment.

Codsworth’s once-gleaming chrome body is now made of aged brass and copper, the metal is finely polished–most likely a task her does himself. His spherical central body is adorned with intricate, hand-etched designs—gears, cogs, and swirling patterns. His limbs have been reinforced with brass joints and copper piping that connect to his core.

Codsworth’s mechanical components are now more visible, with gears and pistons exposed at various points on his arms and torso. Like Nick, his parts are constantly whittling, clicking and ticking. Codsworth’s mechanical components are more visible, with gears and pistons exposed at various points on his arms and torso. His "eyes" are now encased in small glass domes with glowing, amber lights within them, his eyes glow warmly when he’s in a calm, domestic mode, but flicker and pulse with intensity when he switches into protective or combat modes. His eye stalks are adorned with copper fittings, and the glass occasionally fogs with condensation.

 In keeping with his role as Hancock’s butler, Codsworth wears a small, polished brass top hat perched at a jaunty angle atop his central body, complemented by a small brass bowtie. These features are all purely decorative. 

The Minutemen

The Minutemen’s primary mission remains the same: to protect the settlements of the Commonwealth and fight for the survival of what remains of humanity. However, in this world where vampires  and other supernatural entities roam, their duties have expanded. They are not just protectors from raiders and super mutants—they also defend against supernatural threats that stalk the woods and attack the vulnerable. They aren’t necessary on the side of the Supernatural. If they were to find Goodneighbor, things would most likely get ugly, fast. 

They also serve as a critical resistance against the growing influence of the Brotherhood of Steel and the Institute

Their General is Preston, and their fighting force is volunteers, mostly young people hungry to make a mark on the wasteland. 

The Brotherhood of Steel

Honestly? They’re quite similar to the games. FInding pre-war technology takes a back seat to their crusade against anything they deem unnatural. Vampires, ghouls, synths, and now a werewolf once they hear about her.

Clad in hulking suits of power armor adorned with religious symbols and iconography, the Brotherhood has adopted an almost Inquisitorial approach to the Commonwealth’s supernatural threats. They wield not only their traditional laser rifles and energy weapons but also silver-edged blades, enchanted relics, and advanced tech designed specifically to combat the supernatural. (everyone knows you need something like that to kill a vampire)

 Still led by  the zealous Elder Maxson, the Brotherhood operates under a strict dogma that views both the supernatural and those who sympathize with them as threats to humanity’s future. All those who oppose them often face the Brotherhood’s wrath for their "blasphemy."

To many, they are seen as overzealous tyrants who threaten anyone who doesn’t adhere to their rigid view of purity and progress.

The Institute

While still dedicated to technological advancement, genetic experimentation, and the perfection of synthetic life, the Institute’s goals are also driven by a vision of humanity where they control not only the future but the very nature of existence itself. They are not just scientists—they are alchemists of flesh and machine, seeking to transcend the limitations of life and death, manipulating both the natural and the supernatural for their own ends.The Institute’s experiments now go beyond simple synth creation and cloning. They are obsessed with understanding—and ultimately controlling—the supernatural forces that have emerged in the wasteland.

Now they not only capture residents of the Commonwealth te replace them with synths. They also kidnap for victims of experiments. Trying to induce vampirism and other supernatural states. Their newest successful experiment was inflicting a young woman with lycanthropy, through a delicate process of DNA splicing, exposure to radiation as well as mental and physical torture. 

[cat-dragron-arts]

Never knew I could become fixated on my own silly Sonic Frontiers AU but it's finally at a point where I feel comfortable enough to share it with the wider world! I also wrote all this up at like midnight so sorry if stuff doesn't make sense.

Whole premise is "what if Shadow was in Frontiers" which isn't a unique thought but I wanted to try my own spin on it! Calling it the Mnemonic AU for now since that's just have I've been titling files I save for this as.

Mnemosyne Island replaces Rhea Island in terms of story progression, combining all of the towers into one. Still working on some of the finer details but the chaos emeralds are involved so that Sonic, Shadow and their koco companion can have some quality time together.

Also! Have some rough environmental drawings because I cannot get certain scenes out of my head!!

My whole goal of this was to explore a bit of the harder to obtain voice lines on Rhea Island and how that would play in to someone besides Sage being there to witness Sonic at his lowest before the corruption fully takes over.

Oh and also to have more qpr sonadow content that scratches my particular itch of them having an incredibly deep bond and how that gets put to its limit.

More doodles and ramblings under the cut!

I have most of the main story beats planned out especially with how the ending plays out. It would follow the Final Horizon update in terms of how Ouranos Island plays out plus! Then there's also more potential for character interactions which I adore exploring.

Got no idea for how Shadow ends up at the Starfall Islands. Maybe he's out with Rouge and Omega and he's the only one that finds the portal that ends up transporting him to the islands. Anyways, at least he and Knuckles have that in common.

Shadow's memory token is lavender which I used primarily because it's more neutral than some of the other symbols I see with Shadow a lot. His koco's design was... a pain but I'm ultimately happy with it since they are fun to draw hehe.

The fic itself is gonna be a long one!! Not sure how long yet as I'm still writing it but I've gotten rough drafts for the first three chapters with chapter four on the way. I'm guessing somewhere around 40-60 k words?? Based purely on the chapters I have written right now and how many words they are.

I'd love to post the fic at some point but I want to wait until I have a little more of a back log/more polished since it's my first fan fic and I am a little nervous about it haha.

If you read this far thank you??? It means a lot and I just hope people enjoy this silly au hehe.

[ciaossu-imagines]

MYSTIC MESSENGER V WITH ARRANGED MARRIAGE AU PLEASE thank you I always enjoy reading your writings

Aww, you're so sweet, my dear! I'm really flattered to hear you enjoy reading my stuff and I hope you'll enjoy this as well. I had a lot of fun with this, honestly, so thank you so much for the request!

Okay, so I don't actually think it's too much of a stretch to imagine either V's father or Chairman Han, both being from very wealthy and affluential families, setting up arranged marriages for their children. So this 'AU' isn't really a huge shift in universe. I think the biggest change, going into this, is that V and Rika never met. I can see V still having met and helped Saeyoung and Zen, but the RFA was never founded and Rika is never a thing with V.

In fact, relationships were never really a thing with V. He's dated here or there but nothing serious. His life just is too full, too stressful, too busy for dating. V's relationship with his father is very contentious. V is still very much working as a photographer and his work is very well received and beautifully done. People pay top dollar for it but he never really achieves fame because he avoids the public eye and that is something that his father holds against him.

V's father wants his son to set aside his photography career, to take over the family business. To smarten up and behave as the son and heir to the family should, in other words. And V's father has tried numerous ways of forcing V into doing so.

And the newest of those ways? It's definitely the arranged marriage decided upon by V's father and your own parents, who do own a major corporation but are rather nouveau-riche. This really does set them aside as lesser than by a lot of people and they view this arranged marriage as a way to elevate your families status in the wealthy circles and V's father sees it as a way to force his son to settle down, start a family, and because he'll have a wife and hopefully children to take care of, it only makes sense that V would set aside his 'silly' artistic endeavors and take up his mantle in the business world with the family company.

It seems perfect, at least to the parents of both of you.

To both you and V though, the idea is a little less than ideal. You're prepared to hate V out of pure hatred for the idea. You aren't even sure about your stance on marriage. You may or may not want marriage to be a thing in your future, but the fact of the matter is that even if you do want to get married, you want to get married to someone you choose, someone you truly love. You don't want to be forced into anything and that force is what you hate the most.

V, meanwhile, is nothing but angry at this turn of events. But as I've mentioned, V doesn't deal well with anger. He doesn't know how to handle it at all, doesn't know how to deal with it, and feels disgusting for the huge surges of anger he is feeling. So instead he focuses that anger into other emotions. He's feeling super guilty and ashamed of his father's actions, of the pressure this puts on you when he walks into the restaurant where the two of you were to be introduced by your parents for the first time.

It surprises you that you find it really hard to hate V right away. It surprises you even more that you feel an automatic tingle of physical attraction to him and you wonder if that tingle was strong enough to really influence your thoughts. But you don't think that was it.

V apologizes, countless times, for the situation you find yourself in. He consistently blames himself for you being forced into this arranged marriage, takes all the blame for it and any anger or sadness you feel about it.

Though it takes a few meetings, because your parents and his father are consistently with the two of you, when the two of you first get together alone, V makes it perfectly clear to you that if you want to get out of the arranged marriage, he will be perfectly okay with that and would not blame you. He even offers to find some way to make sure the arranged marriage ends without you being blamed in any way. He warns you that might take a little bit of time, but he'll figure a solution that will leave nobody with any doubt that the breaking down of the arranged marriage was entirely on him.

Like, the man is so very, very guilty over every and anything related to this and he is always apologizing to you.

Now, I can see the rest of this going in either one of two ways. The first way is that you take V up on that offer of figuring out a way to get out of the marriage. Whether or not you're willing to let him take all the blame is entirely up to you, but either way, he is right in that it will take a little bit of time. The two of you continue to play into your parents, seeing each other often, having 'date nights' used to plan and bounce ideas off each other for how to bring this all to a close. But somewhere along the way, you find your conversations with V actually becoming conversations. The two of you start to actually get to know each other and you start to fall for V a little. He's sweet and kind and creative and he can be funny in a dry, witty way. And he finds himself really falling for you too, but both of you are still convinced that the only thing the other wants is to get out of this arranged marriage.

And besides, V in particular doesn't want to enter a relationship with you on those terms. He doesn't want to be dating you only because the two of you were supposed to be getting married anyway. He spends a lot of time wishing that the two of you had met in any other way, under any other circumstances.

So, in this ending, I do see the marriage contract ending, just like the two of you had planned and it does break your heart and breaks V's heart. V withdraws, he needs to heal some of how much he hurts when things with you seem to be over for good, when he thinks he'll never really see you again. The two of you go months without seeing each other until you bump into each other again. It could be at a party, through mutual friends, or maybe you purposefully tracked down a show he was doing and showed up to the gallery to see him again. Either way, the two of you start talking again and I think this time, without the expectation of marriage there, with more free-will from the start, the attraction the two of you have towards each other has more room to grow and really bloom and the two of you end up dating.

The alternate way this could go? You refuse to break the arranged marriage. As much as you hate it, you're so loyal to your family and your parents and care about them too much. You know how much this means to them. So the marriage does go through and the story becomes V and you learning how to be a married couple together, how to get over the forced approach to the relationship with each other. It involves learning to be friends first, helping V heal the shame and guilt he's feeling, helping him really stand up to his father and prove that, even married, he does not and will not inherit the family company, that he is happy with his art. It involves a very, very slow burn love story, with lots of drama and conflicts, which can also be really fun.

[jillsandwhichs]

Valenfield Oneshots/AU's Collection , Chap 10 , Star Gazing

Masterlist

Pairing: Jill Valentine & Chris Redfield

Summary: Chris and Jill go star gazing together outside of his house

Status of their relationship in this one shot: Dating

WC: 2.3k

Type: Sfw

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

Plopping back down onto the couch, Chris wrapped his burly arm around his smaller sized girlfriend, Jill, the two were embracing one another as their eyes were locked onto the little, mounted television, the movie playing was 'Nightmare on Elm Street', a classic horror film that surprisingly, the two hadn't seen yet, so they decided to binge some of the franchise together, it made for a perfect date night.

"The pizza I ordered is about thirty minutes away." Chris stated to Jill, his fingertips rubbing up and down her forearm. "How come it's so far away? Where's the nearest pizzeria?" Jill asked, her voice had a tint of curiosity fused into it. "Well, about an hour or so, but we got lucky, this is what I get for living out in the countryside." Chris laughed, kissing the top of Jill's hair, her hair smelling like coconut, which Chris was entranced by.

"I see... Makes sense." Jill responded, continuing to keep her head nuzzled on his shoulder, the movie still resuming in the background. The scene currently playing was showing Freddy, the main villain, he looked burnt, it reminded Jill of her cooking when she was younger. "Freddy looks like a lasagna I once made... No, I'm sorry, attempted to make." Jill giggled, causing Chris to snort alongside with her. "Funny girl." Chris whispered, his eyes focused on the tv.

Jill was never scared of horror movies, but the idea of some burnt, crispy old man haunting your dreams wasn't pleasant ; out of any horror villain, he's the one Jill thinks is the creepiest. As for Chris though, he isn't scared of any of these fools, especially after what he's been through. Ever since the Arklay incident and Rockfort, he hasn't feared much, he almost feels as though nothing can stop him. That could also be from Jill though, she makes him feel unstoppable.

"Isn't the thought of someone invading your dreams scary?" Jill questioned, looking up at Chris. "Little bit, yeah, but I don't have anything interesting going up in my noggin." Chris chortled, squeezing her arm with affection. "Oh, you don't dream of me?" Jill teased, slapping his thigh playfully. "Oh sweetheart, I definitely dream of you." He commented, the dirty joke plain in sight. "Oh you're bad." Jill laughed, hiding her head in his shoulder, her weeziness over coming her.

In all honesty, the two could barley keep their eyes on the movie, they just kept talking and missing important sections of it, but honestly, they didn't care, they were enjoying one on one time with each other, and that's all that matters to them. "Who do you think would win, Leather face or Freddy?" Jill questioned, beaming at her own silly question, it was an obvious answer. "Well, that's kind of tough..." "How so?" Jill asked again.

"Well, baby, Leather face is kind of dumb, which makes him vulnerable, then again he is strong, especially with that chainsaw. Freddy can haunt dreams and cause people to kill themselves, and since Leather face is already beaten up on enough by his family, it's a possibility. If we're talking hand to hand however, I believe Leather face wins." Chris explained, his points making more sense now. "Makes sense, we should watch the TCM series together, it's such a good classic." Jill stated. "Definitely." Chris muttered, his eyes gandering back up at the television in front of them.

Chris couldn't help but feel a warm pit in his stomach. He felt euphoric knowing he was alone, just with Jill. Spending time with her was his favorite thing in the entire world. "Wanna take a break from the movie, at least till the pizza arrives?" Chris questioned, standing off of the couch and stretching his jacked arms into the arm, his thin fabricated shirt lifting up, revealing his lower stomach religion. "Oh sure, and do what?" She asked aloud. "Come here hun." Chris requested, grabbing a red plaid blanket off of the couch. Jill obliged.

She was quite curious as to what Chris had in mind ; just as long as it wasn't sitting by the front porch light outside, those bugs would eat her alive, she hates the idea even. Chris, who was in front of Jill, grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen drawer, clicking it on and off a couple times to test if the battery had held up. "What do you need that for?" Jill wondered. "You'll see baby." Chris replied, pecking her cheek and opened the front door, which was right by the kitchen area.

"Come on now." Chris demanded, ambling outside with the girl right behind him as he stepped down his porch, the sound of cicadas and other little insects could be heard. Not only that, the occasional car passing by was loud, the cool night breeze made whistling noises as it flew right on past their faces, the feeling was refreshing. "Haven't done this in awhile." Chris spoke to himself, the blanket still on his left arm. "What is 'this' exactly?" Jill asked the man. "You're such an impatient girl, but I love it." Chris retorted.

There was a specific spot Chris was treading towards, so that he could lay the blanket out for the two of them to lay on. Chris used to star gaze with his younger sister, Claire Redfield, back when they were a bit younger. He always found it to be a kindred thing, it lifted his spirits. Although, the man couldn't name was constellation for you even if he tried. The most he could do was little dipper and big dipper.

Once he noticed the large, patchy grass in front of him, Chris tossed the blanket in the air, holding it by it's ends and gently laying it out, shuffling it around until it looked neat. "So are we just gonna lay here? I don't wanna get murdered, especially after just watching that movie." Jill tittered. "Oh, you'll be okay, I'm here." Chris whispered, taking her hand and sitting her down along side him, the both of them laying down side by side and staring up into the stary, ominous sky.

"Star gazing? How romantic." Jill teased him playfully, staring up at the teeny tiny stars that were miles and miles and miles away from them, it felt like she could just squeeze them till they pop if she squinted one eye. "Yeah... Thought it'd be nice, the downside is how cold it is." Chris chuckled, gazing at the sky with her, making note of the fact there were sadly no constellations, he had hoped but not everything comes true, does it?

"You're so sweet." Jill complimented him, turning her head to look at him, seeing how his face rested whilst looking up above. "I try." Chris spoke, not moving his eyes from the stars, even glancing at the bright, white moon. "You know any constellations?" Chris questioned her. "No, not really, only the basic ones... Never necessarily had the time to think about them, how they looked and where they are usually located at, y'know?" "I get that." Chris said, now peeping his eyes at her, in awe at how pretty she was.

Chris honestly felt like the luckiest man in the world. So many men had wanted Jill before, even asked her out. One time, when he and Jill, along with a couple friends were out at a bar, this dude came up and asked if she wanted to dance and get a drink, but she declined. This man was also tall, and good looking, it was surprising to Chris when she had did that, but he most definitely did not complain. He was the chosen one.

"I think you're very pretty." Chris praised Jill, not being able to resist the urge to say something about her ethereal beauty. Jill glanced over at Chris, a tint of blush forming on her cheeks. She wasn't the type to get flustered easily, but fuck she couldn't help it with Chris. "Thank you babe." Jill responded, whilst doing so, she slid her hand into his, allowing their fingers to intertwine with one another.

As the two held hands and star gazed, it felt so peaceful, as if it was just them all alone in the world. After the Arklay incident, they definitely got closer, and even more close after Chris returned from Europe. Jill knew she has loved Chris for a long time, and she's just ecstatic she finally gets to be with him. She hopes he feels the same way. When Chris had asked her out, everything she was dealing with at that very moment just suddenly faded and all that had mattered to her, was him. It's always gonna be him.

"Man, I hope that pizza comes soon, I'm starving." Chris joked, turning to officially face Jill, now laying on his side. Jill turned herself over too, looking at him with genuine love & care. "Yea, I could go for it too, but I don't know if I wanna keep watching that movie." Jill admitted. "How come? You scared?" Chris teased, squeezing her hand lovingly. "Oh quit! Definitely not, it's just not my cup of tea, that's all." Jill spoke truthfully. "I'll take your word for it." Chris responded, knowing she was being honest.

Jill placed her smooth, supple hand onto Chris's cheek, feeling the incoming scruff on it, caressing his cheek with earnest. Chris then placed his big hand upon her hip, pulling her into him more as he did so. Both leaned in at the same time, kissing each other with passion and loyalty. Jill felt as though she could simply melt into his arms, ditto for Chris.

Breathing in deeply, the man moved his hand to her upper back, ravishing in the feeling of her right in his arms, safe and sound, as she should be. Their lips continued to move softly against one another, neither even attempted to slip some tongue action in though, they were both too anxious. "I love you." Jill whispered, her forehead pressed against his, the wind was picking up now, almost as if it was matching the intense mood going on between them.

"I love you too." Chris quietly said back to her, his hand remaining on her waist. "I'm happy you were able to come over tonight... I have a question." Chris spoke, his voice timid. "Me too baby... Ask away." She muttered out, her doe-like eyes gazing at him with honest love. "Would you like to spend the night...? Here? I just think it's getting kind of late to drive yourself home, y'know..." He asked her, seeming nervous about the question and it's entirety.

"Oh, well, I don't see why not... Sure." She answered. Deep down, Jill felt utter glory with the fact he asked her that. She had wanted to ask before, many times when she'd come over, but she always felt as if it's be to early, or that he'd decline her offer. Jill felt full, full of love and contentness.

"What do ya say, we head back inside? Pizza should be here eventually anyways, and I don't know about you but I'm cold." Chris cackled, sitting up on the blanket and holding out his hand, it was stiff due to the temperature but the gesture was thoughtful. "Ha, yeah, I'm okay with going back inside." Jill responded, snickering along with him. The girl took the man's calloused hand and held it as they walked back into his home.

Chris had rough, calloused hands but to Jill, it was attractive. It showed how much of a hard working man he was ; ambitious was a trait she always seeked when getting with somebody. As the couple strided up the steps, Jill stopped and studied Chris for a moment before speaking, "Do you think you'll work in this field for the rest of your life? Or at least till you decide to retire?" She asked aloud, it was a random question, but also had so much tenderness to it. It was a deep thought Chris hadn't put a lot of time into thinking about.

"To be completely honest with you hun, I haven't thought about my future that much, especially the work side of things. To be more forward, most likely, yeah... I wanna serve this world justice, y'know?" Chris said, his words brave and full of passion, he was such a good person. "I agree... I wanna help out the world, especially since it's going to complete shit. Raccoon City was a disaster... Then Arklay..." Jill sighed out, clearly upset whilst thinking about both tragic events.

Watching as Jill put her head down, Chris placed his hand onto her shoulder, stroking it with carefulness. "Don't think about it too much sweetheart, it's the past now, I know it'll stick with you forever, but letting go is a solution." He said kindly, moving both of his hands to her cheeks, tilting her head up to look directly into his eyes. Jill encased her arms around his waist as she hugged him warmly.

The man expired to himself, his hands hugging her head, caressing her soft, brown hair as he did so. All Chris wanted was to take care of Jill, and to love her. Seeing her dwell on such horrific events killed him on the inside, honestly seeing her down in anyway hurt him, because in his eyes, she deserves nothing but eternal joy. Kissing the top of her head, he pulled away and said something that stuck with her, "You'll always be my safe space, I hope I'm yours too." Chris muttered out, his words were obviously so meaningful.

"You are, Chris." She mumbled, hugging him even tighter now. "Good." He whispered.

The two pulled away after about a minute, Chris broke the peaceful silence. "Let's get you inside, and under a blanket, we can watch something else too." Chris added, opening the front door and leading her inside. "Sounds like a plan." Jill laughed, following him and heaving as he closed the door with a final light push.

[kmomof4]

Happy Birthday, Joni!!!

Today is the birthday of one of my fandom besties, @jrob64!! Joni, I love you so much and I so hope your birthday is filled with every good thing!!! You are a tremendous blessing in my life and I hope this gift tells you how much you mean to me!

Unfortunately, I didn't have an idea for a fic to write for you this year 🥺. I think it was the year before we met and became friends that I made fic rec lists for birthday presents, so I thought I'd do the same for you this year! So, in no particular order, here are my favorites of all the fics you've written.

Devastation and Healing- the fic we became friends over when I apparently yelled at you for something in it - I do not remember what that something was, because there were a lot of somethings in that fic... but you do remember what that something was, as you've occasionally reminded me. This fic will always hold a very special place in my heart, though, as the fic that brought you into my life!!! Summary: Sergeant Killian Jones has had more than his share of tragedy in his life. When he’s injured in an IED explosion, he’s assigned to a physical therapist named Emma Swan. While she tries to help him heal physically, can they help each other heal emotionally? Rated M, 24chs, almost 90k

One Thrill Ride Leads to Another Inspired while on our very first vacay together with Marta and Jen, you wrote this one for Marta's bday!! And what a ride it was!!! Just delightful in every way!!! Summary: While working at Universal’s Islands of Adventure, Killian Jones meets Emma Swan, slips his name and number into her phone, and later sends her a text asking her out. His snap decision could lead to her blocking his number, or to an adventure much more thrilling than a ride on a roller coaster. Rated M, 6chs, 42k

Rescuing the Princess This one was SUCH FUN!!! How you managed to include elements from so many fairytales is still just astounding to me!!! Summary: Twenty-eight years after Princess Emma of Misthaven is kidnapped by the Evil Queen, Pirate Captain Killian Jones attempts to rescue her in order to earn the substantial reward offered by her royal parents. A CS Fairytale Mash-up AU featuring Beauty and the Beast, Sleeping Beauty & Tangled, with a sprinkling of The Princess Bride thrown in for good measure. Rated T, 3chs, 19k

Sowing Seeds of Trust Such a BEAUTIFULLY written, tugging on the heartstrings tearjerker!!! Love this one soooo much!!! Summary: Emma Swan is a young woman without a family, friends, a home, and now a boyfriend after he tries to pin his crime on her. When she goes looking for help from a local charity at a church, she ends up meeting a group of people, including a handsome blue-eyed man, who offer her friendship...and a whole lot more. Rated M, 19chs, 120k

Silly Songs with Killian Of course you know about my Captain Cobra weakness, and this one just checks all the boxes. Too adorable for WORDS!!! Summary: After a frustrating and exhausting day, Emma Cassidy is relieved when her little boy, Henry, is entertained by a gorgeous musician at a restaurant, giving her a chance to sit back, relax, and enjoy the music (and the view!) It gets even better when the singer, Killian, sings some of Henry’s favorite Silly Songs from his favorite videos, Veggie Tales. Rated T OS, almost 4k.

For the Sake of Henry Another fic featuring Captain Cobra pretty prominently that tugs on the heartstrings RELENTLESSLY!!! BEAUTIFULLY done!!! Summary: Killian Jones is a third grade teacher concerned about one of his students, Henry Cassidy. When he has to make a report to the Office of Child and Family Services about the possible neglect and abuse of the boy, the person sent to investigate is Emma Swan. While both of them have Henry’s welfare at heart, there may be other matters of the heart involved neither one expected. Rated M, 11chs, 71k.

Where Her Heart Belongs Series The first fic in this series was absolutely BRILLIANT, and then the second one for my bday was PERFECT in EVERY WAY!!! I love them both SOOOO MUCH!!!! Summary: In the Land Without Magic, Emma Swan is quietly living her solitary life. When she finds a unique storybook in the library, strange things begin to happen. A canon divergent story which started out based on the movie "Somewhere in Time", but evolved into something else entirely. Two OS, Fic 1 is rated T, 2 is M, combined word count is 15k.

The Mystery Carver of Storybook The first fic you wrote for my birthday was such fun!!! Just a glimpse of their happy beginning that made my heart sooooo happy!!! Summary: Killian finds ways to cheer Emma up after Henry leaves to seek his own adventure. In the process, he creates a huge mystery for the residents of Storybrooke. Rated M, OS, 4k

Lunch Is On Me Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know... I wasn't happy that this one had such a sad premise, but the whole thing really is just soooo sweet and beautiful! Going back to visit Liam at every stage in their relationship was just so precious, its place in my heart is cemented. Summary: Emma Swan makes a mistake when ordering a DoorDash delivery and tells the driver to keep the food for himself. The response she gets moves her to tears and has her hoping to meet the man in person someday. Rated T, OS, 3500 words.

Of course our Girls Vacay Fic Collection is a favorite... 😏😜 I'm sure you're completely surprised by that... Summary: When Emma Swan and her friends go on their annual girls’ vacation, they meet a group of guys who seem to keep turning up in the same places. Pranks, yearning looks and romance ensue.

A collaborative story by snowbellewells, jdmusiclover, kmomof4 and jrob64, based on our very own girls’ trip (without the guys, sadly). 3 fics are now in the collection, all rated T, combined WC 39k

I Loved You First I know you're so surprised about this one, too... a birthday fic for me featuring my second favorite relationship on the show... absolutely precious. Summary: Emma and her father share some special sentiments with each other before he walks her down the aisle to marry her True Love. A canon compliant missing moment for 6X20, just prior to Emma and Killian's wedding. Rated G OS, 1100 words.

Long Overdue Conversations are just long overdue and are very much canon in my mind. Summary: A series of conversations between characters of Once Upon a Time which I wish we would have seen in canon, but didn’t. Ratings will be stated in the author's note at the beginning of each part. Different ratings for each of the 4chs, almost 7800 words.

And finally, this years CSSNS fic, Ghosted, even if it's not finished yet... is SO COMPELLING, and while I pretty well know what's going to happen just from all our conversations, I am on the EDGE OF MY SEAT and SCREEEEEEEEEEAMMMMMMMMMINNNNNNNNNNG for Neal's blood now for how many chs? I can't WAIT to see how you finish it all up!! Summary: When Emma Swan’s ex-boyfriend dies, she’s haunted by his ghost. Her neighbor, Killian Jones, a ghost hunter who has a YouTube channel, realizes what’s happening and offers to help. However, there’s more at stake than simply helping the apparition move on. There’s also the matter of Killian telling Emma he’s in love with her. Rated M with 3chs posted so far, 20k.

So there we go, my friend! A birthday fic rec list of all my favorite of your fics!! All of your fics are absolutely wonderful, but these are the ones I love the most. Happiest of birthdays, my friend!! Love you!!!

[asteria7fics]

Oh, hey! How’d you get here?!

Welcome to my little corner of the internet!

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

I’m Asteria, but my friends call me Teri and my pronouns are she/her!

Asks and DM's are always welcome! However...

I’m a grown adult, so please if you’re a minor that wants to interact with me, keep it to my ask box only! Take it from someone who was privately talking to grown people online much too young, it’s never worth it! Protect your peace so I can protect mine. ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

I write South Park fics and shit! Here’s what you can currently read on my ao3!

The Song of Broflovski (TSOB)

A parody/retelling of the Trojan War through the exploits of some small town fourth graders. Crass and silly and meant to closely mimic the feel of the show. Great for people who don’t like smut, but DO like toilet humor and kids that cuss!

Exactly Where I Left You (EWILY)

My take on a high school au with a little twist, complete with overly-dramatic teenaged angst, love triangles and sexual awakenings. This fic takes place within the same universe as TSOB, though that isn’t required reading to enjoy this story! Be warned though, this one does contain mild smut.

Remplir Sa Bouche (RSB)

A smut-heavy one-shot I cooked up one day, where Stan works as a private chef for Kyle and his wealthy family. This fic exists well outside of my typical universe, and outside of any concept of decency. If you dare take a bite, then I hope you’ll enjoy your meal. Bon appetite!

Other content:

You can listen to music I associate with the EWILY boys and their arcs on my Spotify!

The EWILY boys also got Pinterest boards! Featuring a WIP board for RSB (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

Current WIPS:

La Petite Mort (title subject to change): The much requested sequel to RSB!

EWILY extras: One-shots covering bits that didn’t quite make the cut for EWILY, but still add something to the story!

And many more ideas currently waiting for their turn in the oven!

(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Since you’re still here, I’ll share some other things about me!

I’m a double Scorpio, Aries rising and INFP!

I primarily ship Style (or Stanky if you prefer) and Bunny, but I also dabble in Bendy and Yentlman. And Creek, of course. Canon kings.

Though South Park is my primary focus, I also like a lot of other cartoons! I’m also a big fan of Bojack Horseman, Moral Orel, Clone High (the first season rip), Futurama, Smiling Friends, ATLA, Castlevania, the list does kinda go on. Feel free to chat with me about other shows!

I am also an anime enjoyer, though I don’t keep up with a lot of the modern popular shows. Hands down my favorite shows have been Ouran High School Host Club, Black Butler (the manga is better hehe), Madoka Magica, Panty & Stocking, Spy Family, Aggretsuko and Clannad!

Very casual video game enjoyer. Some of my favorite games include TFBW (obviously!! A masterpiece!!), The OG Spyro trilogy, Bayonetta, Assassin’s Creed (especially Odyssey, you KNOW I’m a Classical Greece girly), and The Sims.

I listen to just about any kind of music, but I’m especially partial to pop-punk and k-pop. My absolutely faves of all time are BTS, Twice and FOB.

I’m not afraid to block people, or tags for that matter. Won’t yuck your yum (too much) but if I don’t wanna see it, I won’t be seeing it.

Thank you for reading this long-ass post! I hope you have fun here!!