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secretsolarsystem · 1 year ago

Note

A SADIE POST ??? ON MY DASH ???? how about drunk au or pen pal au or anything u fuckin want cus i will read it 🫶🫶🫶😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

HEHEHEHE HIIIIII MADISON <3 ILYSM FR U STAY ON MY MIND EVEN THOUGH I'VE BEEN GONE FOR 8 MILLION YEARS FR 🫶

the way I haven't been able to write a single word in MONTHS without immediately deleting it. and I just cranked this out. the power of Madison fr.

nooooo spoilers but I have a pen pal au outlined that I wanna write for the holidaysssssss AHHH so pls enjoy this drunk au <3

1.9k, modern au, changed their ages so Anakin’s 18 and Obi-Wan’s 21, under-age drunkeness, I’ll say dub-con just incase since Anakin isn’t sober but not much happens really everyone's okay, kindaaaa mature but again. not much happens really, Obi-Wan’s going through it typical college student style. it gets a little moree angsty than I intended at the end??? but this story has a happy ending in MY mind but do with it what you will <3

—

Can I Chrom ove

Shit

Can I come coer

Over. Pbi

Obi waaaaann

Obiiiiii wannnn can I comdvr PLEAEE

The string of texts gave the sense that Obi-Wan was taking hours, even minutes to respond. But checking the time stamps, they’d all been sent in the span of a minute. All of them had been sent at 1:38 in the morning.

Obi-Wan had already been awake, working on a grueling essay that he’d finally had a flow on and didn’t want to lose, sleep be damned, so he had the honor of watching these texts as they came in. The first one made him frown, not so much thrown off by the misspelling, but more so by the capitalization. Anakin never capitalized properly when he texted. (It was a point of contention for them that Obi-Wan did, and that he used proper punctuation.

“Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong? What’s wrong? You can just tell me, you know. I thought we were closer than that.”

“Anakin, what in the world are you talking about?”

“Your text. Do you not want to go anymore? Is it because you’re mad at me?”

“I’m so confused, Anakin. Did I not say that meeting at the theater at three sounded, and I quote, ‘good’?”

“Obi-Wan, you said, and I fucking quote, smart ass, ‘Sounds good.’ You wrote ‘sounds good’ with a capital S and a period at the end.”

“…Right. Yes.”

“Obi-Wan, you see why I thought you hated me, right? You see it? Right?”

The conversation went on for a few more minutes, and during the trailers, and during dinner after the movie…)

So, once he saw ‘Can I come coer,’ Obi-Wan knew Anakin was drunk. He watched all the other texts come in, and his smile grew as they did. He didn’t know if his name – at least what he was assuming was supposed to be his name – spelled as ‘Pbi’ or the desperate ‘PLEAEE’ was his favorite, but just to be sure they were forever preserved, Obi-Wan took a quick screenshot.

Just as he was about to respond, Obi-Wan saw the typing bubble pop up from Anakin and waited to see what he would add, when a loud thud came from his window. Obi-Wan’s head whipped around so fast that if adrenaline hadn’t immediately spiked through his body he would probably feel a fierce twinge in his neck.

A moment later, though, he slumped back into his desk chair with a heavy sigh and an annoyed shake of his head when he saw Anakin on the other side of the window, head pressed against the glass and dark blue eyes looking in, searching for Obi-Wan. Since Obi-Wan still had lights on, Anakin was probably looking mostly at his own reflection, but his drunken mind didn’t care.

Obi-Wan walked over and tapped the window, feeling slightly bad about having to scare Anakin, but Anakin had just scared the shit out of him and it got him to take his head off the window, so he only felt slightly kind of sort of bad about it.

He opened the window, and greeted Anakin’s slurred, “Obi-Waaaaaan!” with a shush and out-stretched hands. “Come on, come inside,” he said, helping Anakin’s long limbs climb in through the window. When Anakin finally made it in, despite Obi-Wan’s help, he fell into a heap on Obi-Wan’s floor, squealing while Obi-Wan cursed. “Why didn’t you just knock on the door, Anakin?”

“B’cus,” Anakin said, accepting Obi-Wan’s help to right himself, sitting on the floor now with his back against the wall under the window. “Gotta sneak. Mom’ll kill me.”

Obi-Wan sighed, shaking his head, though now he wore a fond smile. He could never be mad at Anakin for long. They’d known each other for four years now, ever since Anakin was a high school freshman and Obi-Wan had been a junior, and they’d surely fought during all those years, but the anger never lasted for long – if it was ever there to begin with. If he took the time to really consider it, Obi-Wan couldn’t remember a time that he was actually mad at Anakin.

(Maybe that one time he dated that girl from their school’s student government, but Obi-Wan never took the time to really consider that. That was over and done, anyways.)

“Your mom’s not here though. Were you trying to go home?” Obi-Wan asked. His essay flow left the second Anakin thunked his head against his window, so Obi-Wan figured he could take Anakin home and just go to bed.

“No,” Anakin said emphatically, looking at Obi-Wan as though he’d just asked Anakin if wanted to go sky diving into an active volcano. “She’ll kill me, Obi. I gotta stay here. Can I stay here? Please, Obi, she’ll kill me, kill me ’til I’m, like…dead.”

Obi-Wan smiled again, both at Anakin’s rambling and the memory of his ‘PLEAEE’ text. “Of course you can. Let’s get you up on the bed.”

Anakin sighed with unfathomable relief, even as he groaned at Obi-Wan moving him up and off the floor. Once he sat heavily onto the mattress, Anakin immediately fell back onto the pillows with another happy sigh.

“Thank you, Obi. The best. Obi the best, you’re the best. M’sorry I woke you up,” Anakin said, sinking into Obi-Wan’s pillows.

Obi-Wan walked over to his desk, saving and closing his essay and shutting his laptop. “I was already up, don’t worry about it,” Obi-Wan assured, turning off his desk lamp and walking back over to sit on the edge of his bed.

Although it was a struggle, Anakin propped himself up, frowning at Obi-Wan. “Why? S’late. You talkin’ to someone, Obi? Someone pretty?” he interrogated, though it was hard to take seriously, considering how he struggled not to sway back into the pillows and to keep his face looking serious.

Obi-Wan laughed. “Oh yeah, talking to all the hot authorities on the history of banned literature,” Obi-Wan said, wiggling his eyebrows. He knew in Anakin’s drunken state he’d miss the fact that Obi-Wan was referring his research paper, so he moved on. “Why are you here right now, Anakin? Have you been drinking with someone pretty?” He ignored the ugly feeling he got in his stomach at his own joke, and maintained his smile.

Anakin huffed out a breath of air and stopped himself from falling back again. “Graduation,” was the explanation Anakin gave. Obi-Wan understood, though, of course. While Obi-Wan was scrambling to finish his assignments and be done with his junior year of college, Anakin and his friends were getting ready for their high school graduation coming up. Obi-Wan couldn’t wait to watch Anakin walk across that stage, his bright smile beaming and surely putting on a show for his friends in the crowd. At Obi-Wan’s own high school graduation, Anakin whooped and hollered so loud during Obi-Wan’s entire walk Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile and shake his head at him in the stands. Obi-Wan probably wouldn’t be quite as loud, but he couldn’t wait to cheer on Anakin.

It was bittersweet, though, because Anakin was going out of state for college. Even if he’d gone to Obi-Wan’s university, they’d only have a year together, but even then they could hang out after Obi-Wan graduated. Now, it was going to be at least four years until they’d see each other again outside of holidays – that is, if Anakin decided to come back home after he graduated, and that was anything but guaranteed.

Obi-Wan didn’t know how Shmi was handling it; Obi-Wan was a wreck. But he only let his genuine pride and excitement show, because he’d never forgive himself if Anakin let such an amazing opportunity slip away because his friend Obi-Wan was sad.

“Are all of you excited?” Obi-Wan asked, and was surprised when Anakin struggled to push himself up and forward to press into Obi-Wan’s side, his head dropping heavily to Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Anakin?”

“M’nervous,” Anakin mumbled into Obi-Wan’s shirt. “Gonna be so far. From home. Mom. You.” Anakin lifted his head to say the last word, so it was breathed right onto Obi-Wan’s neck. “Gonna miss you, Obi. Came here ‘cause I knew you’d take care of me. Always take care of me,” Anakin rambled on, running a hand across Obi-Wan’s stomach to hold him in a loose hug.

“You’re gonna be fine, Anakin,” Obi-Wan made himself say, heart and mind racing at Anakin’s words and touch. Of course Obi-Wan had always felt so strongly for Anakin – of course he did. Anakin was smart and funny and brave and beautiful. Of course Obi-Wan loved him, but they were best friends. Always just Anakin and Obi-Wan. And Obi-Wan told himself he was content with that, because it let him keep Anakin and let let him be kept by Anakin, in some sense.

“But who’s gonna take care of me, Obi-Wan?” Anakin breathed against Obi-Wan’s skin. He was somehow closer now, so each word brushed his lips against the skin of Obi-Wan’s neck. He trailed his hand down before Obi-Wan’s brain could comprehend what was going on, and was suddenly palming Obi-Wan’s cock, which Obi-Wan realized just in that moment that he was half hard. Obi-Wan sucked in a breath, and Anakin’s movements continued, rubbing Obi-Wan’s cock, both of them feeling it get harder and harder in his jeans.

“Who’s gonna take care of you?” Anakin panted, craning his neck to press a sloppy kiss to the corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth. Obi-Wan turned his head towards him without thinking, just acting purely though shock, turning to look at him with big eyes and question on his lips, but Anakin was quick to lick it away and try to kiss him again.

“Anakin, you’re drunk,” Obi-Wan said, breathless, every single nerve alight and every single muscle tense.

“Mhm,” Anakin agreed, his kiss doing nothing but making Obi-Wan’s face wet.

“So we have to stop,” Obi-Wan tried.

“Nooooo,” Anakin whined, not stoping any of his actions, speaking right up against Obi-Wan’s face. “Just…Oh! Get drunk! Yeah, get drunk, Obi, so you can kiss me.”

Anakin’s fingers moved to the button of Obi-Wan’s jeans, fumbling there as he continued to press his lips to Obi-Wan’s in an attempt of a kiss. Obi-Wan’s hand finally came up to grab Anakin’s to stop him; he’d been dying for this to happen, but this was all wrong. It wasn’t anything like Obi-Wan had hoped, like he’d imagined, and he didn’t want this to be ruined for either of them.

He grabbed Anakin’s hand, and it stopped, easily. He turned his head away, and Anakin let him, easily. And Obi-Wan waited for Anakin to sit back and do something – laugh, cry, yell, ramble, shrug, vomit, anything – but Anakin simply slumped his entire weight into Obi-Wan. A ball of pure anxiety now, Obi-Wan waited without even breathing, and heard as soft snores started coming from Anakin.

Obi-Wan couldn’t even help it; he laughed. Anakin had just – just, what, confessed? And then kissed Obi-Wan and groped Obi-Wan’s hard dick, and then proceeded to fall asleep on top of Obi-Wan, his head on his shoulder and his hand still on his crotch.

Shaking his head out of fondness and incredulity, Obi-Wan moved Anakin to lay down on the bed, and he went, easily. He fell back onto the pillows and kept snoring, his sleep anything but disturbed. Obi-Wan took a moment to look at Anakin, to appreciate the way his lashes laid on his alcohol-flushed cheeks and the part of his lips and his curls falling around him like a halo.

Obi-Wan took this in, smiled, and went back to his desk. He opened up his laptop, opening his essay. His flow was still gone, but he needed to do something, anything except think about what the fuck had just happened.

from this prompt list prompted fic collection on ao3

#me: writer's block so severe I cannot write literally a single word #madison: hiiiii :3 #me: TWO THOUSAND WORDS JUST FOR YOOOU <33 #ilysm fr <33 #sorry for the ending fr #obikin #ask #prompt #my writing

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countessrivers · 11 months ago

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Author Interview

I was tagged by @myulalie and @polarnacht1. Thanks

1. How many works do you have on ao3:

50.

2. What's my total ao3 wc:

305,629.

3. What are my top 5 fics by kudos:

Likely influenced by time as 3 of these are Gotham fics which have been up for longer, but 2 of them are DW and they're (relatively) newer.

Tells Me "Worship in the Bedroom" - Bruce/Jeremiah, E

An encounter in a church, after Bruce gets left behind. Follows on from the end of 5x03 'Penguin, Our Hero'.

Deadly Fever, Please Don't Ever Break - Ten/Simm!Master, T+

The Master bares his teeth, free hand moving to press against the Doctor’s stomach.

“Don’t,” the Doctor says, tightening his grip on his arm.

“Make me.”

The Doctor feels a burn where the Master’s hand is pressing into him, even through his clothes, but he doesn’t flinch away, squeezes the Master’s arm even harder instead, and brings his other hand up to pin his shoulder.

“Don’t.”

The Master isn’t going to run again, the Doctor’s not going to let him.

The Doctor lands on Earth, and feels a familiar presence he'd thought lost.

Lacrymosa - Bruce/Jeremiah, M

"Lie, pretend, hide, change your name, put on a mask, lock yourself away in the centre of a labyrinth - it doesn’t matter. Nobody can run forever. "

Jeremiah between 4x18 and 4x20.

Sweet Blooded and I'm Stranded - Ten/Simm!Master, E

The Master isn’t doing anything as pathetic as avoiding the Doctor. Because that would be pathetic.

And he’s not.

(Not pathetic. Not avoiding the Doctor.)

*** The Master (who is doing fine, and doesn't need the Doctor anyway) stumbles back across his own timeline and runs into a Tenth Doctor who still believes he's dead.

One Hand on my Cheekbone, One Hand on the Rope - Bruce/Jeremiah, M

Bruce is not dealing well with a great many things.

Jeremiah just happens to be at the top of the list of things he's not dealing with.

Or maybe, he's just the straw that broke the camel's back.

Bruce, in the aftermath of 'Ace Chemicals'.

4. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do. I'm very, very behind (so sorry to everyone who has left a lovely comment on one of my fics) but I intend to catch up. To begin with I just like/thanking and acknowledging people who took the time to leave a comment, and then it sometimes will give me a chance to talk some more about the fic and my thoughts/ideas behind it.

5. What fic has the angstiest ending?

Roots in my Dreamland (Midam) maybe. It's not too bad, but Adam is still technically stuck in the cage and isn't having a great time. There were plans for a series that would follow through to the end of the show (with a happier ending) and maybe I'll come back to it one day.

Similarly, my To Sit in Hell With You (Bruce/Jeremiah) series, which I'll admit I didn't plan well because I would write the parts on a whim/when inspiration struck and not chronologically so while it all makes sense in my head, in hindsight I don't think it's the best experience for readers. Ultimately it had this stockholmed/broken Bruce story - with Arkham Kight vibes - that was fairly angsty, and the last entry in particular which focused on Jim and Bruce, was definitely that.

And One Hand on my Cheekbone... is basically just angst.

6. What fic has the happiest ending?

Devotion (Yassen/Alex, T+) is the only one that really stands out to me as having a proper happy ending.

A lot of my fic is smut, so does a happy ending count?

7. Do you write crossovers?

Not strict crossovers, but AUs based on another setting often enough. I have a Star Wars fic in the works that name drops Anakin and Obi-Wan if that counts?

8. Have you received hate on ao3?

Not strictly hate. I've had some very odd comments that have nitpicked (what I think are irrelevant) details while not even mentioning whether they finished the fic, much less enjoyed it, which I think is just entirely unnecessary. Or have requested that I write an idea they have, again without commenting on the fic they're posting on. But that's the worst of it.

9. Do you write smut?

Regularly.

10. Have you had a fic get stolen?

Not that I know of.

11. Have you had a fic get translated?

The only one I'm aware of is One Hand on my Cheekbone...

12. Have you co-written a fic?

No.

13. What's your fav ship?

It varies. Right now, Alex/Yassen, but if you go through my fics you'll see the range. Doctor/Master is a pretty eternal one.

14. What's a WIP you want to finish but never will?

I have a few in both the Gotham and Supernatural fandoms. There's a chance I could go back to them, the hyperfixation would just need to swing that way again. I've mentioned a few above, but also Talking While the Wolves Close In (Midam, AU post 'Point of No Return) though that is one I particularly *want* to finish.

15. What are my writing strengths?

I like to think my smut is pretty good at this point. In general I think my writing flows quite well too if that makes sense. I've been told something similar about my academic writing, so I think all that practice has meant my writing - content aside - looks/sounds/reads/flows well.

16. What are my writing weaknesses?

I struggle with dialogue. A line here or there is fine, and I like to think I can make it in-character, but full conversations I struggle with, particularly then trying to match it with movement/the characters actually doing things. Or maybe I then overcompensate and include too much of that when a bunch of back and forth dialogue would be fine without the "interruptions". I guess the problem is I can't quiet tell what the right balance is.

Can't do long plotty fics either. Wish I could, but I always lose steam/motivation before I can finish it. And/or it feels like so much work to get to the bits and pieces I actually want to write within it.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages on ao3?

Fine when done right I guess, but I've never done it apart from maybe a word or two here and there (where I'm pretty certain I've got it right). I know a few languages but none fluently enough to be confident basically. I stuck some Russian in the note of my first AR fic that was the translation of a joke alluded to in the fic itself (taken from the Archer episode the fic was basically parodying - he finds the grenade "hanging from the lampshade") but otherwise I tend to cheat and just say they're speaking another language, potentially using italics.

18. What's the first fandom you wrote for?

DCEU as far as anyone checking my AO3 knows, but there was some earlier stuff for Star Trek '09 way back when I think (that will never see the light of day).

19. What fandom/ship have you not written but want to?

At the moment I don't really have a burning need to write for anything other than what I already have.

20. What's your fav fic you've written?

Lacrymosa is one I'm really happy with, but I also still really like Our Old Friends Are Now Our Enemies (Bruce/Jeremiah, post-series), Hold Me Down (Alex/Yassen, Alex/Julia vamp AU), Strange One... (Alex/Julius/Yassen), and My Doctor's Can't Explain (Alex/Yassen)/

And tagging @too-many-rooks and @pigandpepper if you’re interested.

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cosmiclatte28 · 4 years ago

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Casual Intimacy (Mark Lee x you)

a/n : it’s my soft hours I guess? I made this sweet Mark Lee imagine (well for me this is sweet. I want a boy like this... if you’re that kind of man dm me 😜)

fluff, no warning, no suggestive content but kisses, and just Mark being a wonderful man for you.

Happy Imagining Mark Lee as your s/o!

People often ask you how you can hold on to your “plain” relationship with your current boyfriend. You seriously do not like them bothering you about your relationship life, but you need to deal with it considering the fact that the man you are dating is the famous Mark Lee of NCT.

He is dorky in camera, and in real life too. You pray day and night to the angels to make sure Mark is not tripping on some random stone or bump a pole. Guess your prayer works, when you see Mark always smiling in front of the camera coping up and working so hard with his endless job.

You yourself work in a famous two Michelin restaurant in Seoul. You’re not going to lie, you met Mark lee on your duty. NCT was holding their debut birthday and you were appointed as the chef to cook for their meal that night. Apparently, Mark Lee was super fascinated by your dish and he requested you to come greet the team when your job in the kitchen is done. Your head cook lets you leave your station once desert is prepared and the plates coming into the washing room is clean.

That was five years ago, Mark Lee got love struck by your simple but attractive persona. His eyes couldn’t leave you as you answer their questions on the dishes and you congratulating them. They’re glad when they learn that you listened to their songs and followed their schedules, just that you don’t have much time to be like the other wonderful fans.

Mark Lee looked so intrigued on you and as you bow to them bidding goodbye, he just returned from the restroom. With his long legs trying to catch his other brothers, Mark happened to slip his number on a piece of tissue paper to your pocket and gave you a genuine smile plus a “thank you”.

You earned a good pay that night and even better, Mark Lee’s number.

Well, he isn’t your bias but come on who doesn’t have Mark Lee in their bias list? Want it or not, conscious or not, Mark Lee is always in the list. So, that night when you finish showering and eating a light midnight snack, you gave the number a shot.

You thought your message will never be replied, maybe Mark will have his phone in silent and only opened up messages from his contact list. You’re lucky when your notification bleeped and from that night both of you learn more about each other.

He kept your number under your name, plain business people say, you also thought maybe he wanted to call you for another dinner party. But the chats he had been sending was far from platonic business. It involves jokes, puns, memories of living in Canada (well you graduated from University of Toronto, but cooking is your passion), and even deeper like late night talks.

The relationship got deeper when Mark Lee called you one night, asking if he can meet you in the restaurant. He said he needed a good meal to write a song he was assigned for. You found no correlation between a good meal and writing a song, but believe it or not, Mark Lee came with one of the hottest selling song that month. Earning him a title of “King of Lyrics”

Since then, he called you again and again when he didn’t have the idea to write. You finally invited him over to your house when you got closer. Mark got to eat in your small dining table with a simple dish that was made with love and care that Mark said tasted better than any other dishes he ever had.

You laughed saying he is exaggerating, but Mark never exaggerates when he is with you.

“Be my girlfriend will you?” he one night asked after you teach him how to cook a proper egg. Despite him succeeding the challenge back in 2020, he still needs practice. He succeeded cooking eggs after knowing you for more than a year.

“Suddenly Mark? After you can make a perfect runny egg?” you giggle but nevertheless nodded your head.

His smile that night was even brighter than when he received any awards and praises. His eyes spark joys and emotions uncaptured by cameras. The world never knows how Mark’s true happy face looks like, but if his world is you, then the world knows!

For the first two year of dating, both of you are keeping it low. Dates happen in your house (your wage is enough to buy you a house). You always cook him foods, tried new dishes to him, earned a lot of complains on how the food is not “suitable for Korean tongue” which you always shrug off because he himself is a mix.

But thanks to his constant brave inputs, your dishes are perfectly blended and well known. News media and TV shows started to cast you in their weekend shows. You were offered a contract of a cooking show in a known broadcasting company.

Mark told you to go for it. He knew how happy you are about cooking, and his faith told him “if that is what was given for you, go for it.”

He was right. The internet loves you, they love your simple but tasty dishes. Your show was ranked the hottest that month, famous for helping college student eat a more delicious food.

NCT even did a special relay cam for it, each group were doing a challenge on following your recipes.

Mark was caught off guard on that live shooting day. His team consisted of him, Ten and Johnny.

And you may guess, things went wrong but in a chaotic fun way. When the three of them are together, they just speak in English and forgot all of the filters they should have.

Mark spilled his relationship when he accidentally said out loud “Of course I know how to do that, my girl has been teaching me that.” Mark boasted when Ten asked if Mark could make the egg benedict for their dish.

Johnny and Ten froze on screen, well the NCT members knew your relationship with Mark but they kept quiet. Mark realized what he has said was recorded and forever lives in the web. The comment section went wild and the fans are thrilled about the “mysterious girlfriend Mark has”.

He eventually spilled the truth on a press conference. You were there beside him when he faced the board director and when he sit in front of different mics and cameras flashes. No one knows but throughout the time, when your heart is beating faster than when you took your SAT and final tests, Mark Lee held on to your hand whenever you are answering a question directed to you.

The magazines are taking the favor of the rising topic, inviting you and Mark to take a photoshoot. When you were insecure about taking a picture with him (who has did countless shoots), he squeezed your arm when walking past you and gave a small proud smile as he went to change clothes while you start your personal shoot. No one saw that, but his quick reassuring squeeze boosted your confidence that day and the couple shoot was very nice! You could print that as your wedding pictures!

When the internet goes wild when they connect the theories and Instagram posts Mark and you both made (fans are the best in deciphering codes!), you now walk through the streets crowded by fans. All asking how is it like to date Mark, but not few also told you to screw off. One day when you both are going back to Canada for a winter break, the fans are crowding the way. You gulped when you have to walk pass them, but Mark looked so used to it. He just chuckled and landed a small hand on the back of your waist. With the manager hyung and bodyguard pushing to make way, you made it through the crowd with confident steps.

On the Christmas dinner, Mark was invited to your family dinner and vice versa. You had to attend their family lunch and to say you were nervous was an understatement.

“Mark, what if they don’t like me?” you asked on your bus ride to his house from the airport.

Mark laughed, he always laughed as his first respond, “Baby, it’s going to be okay. Trust me.”

You snorted, “You calling me baby is already suspicious, for three years we dated you “dude” me 70% of the time, “baby” was only like 10%”

He did the math, “Then what’s the remaining 20?%”

“You just call me “Bro” for the res of them.” You squeezed his cheek and planted a kiss there.

“I like it though, not too cheesy.”

He grew red. “Gosh I am having the Jaehyun syndrome. Why are my ears burning?!”

He was not 100% wrong, his parents were nice they grew fond of you especially when you helped his mother prepared lunch. Well you both arrived earlier and you decided to give a hand for the busy mom.

Mark sat next to you on dinner and when you were diving into a yummy Christmas pudding, his parents began asking you the “platonic questions asked to your partner”.

You almost chocked on your pudding when they asked “Are you seeing a future with Mark? Can you make our son happy and us too?”

You were not ready, you expected questions like where you work or where you live. They said “We can find all that answers in the internet, but not the answer to our question.”

Mark’s gentle kick from under the table by your side made you looked at him and he gave you that sincere smile only you have the privilege to see. He nodded slightly and shot his eyebrow to his parents side “Answer them… I am also curious of the answer.”

You grew red, it wasn’t the drink or anything, but his parent’s happy and relieved face when you nod your head and said “I am seeing a future with him, if I get both of your blessing.”

They love you and Mark was right. That night, you invited his family to join your dinner instead. The same question was asked from your parents to Mark and Mark was more than ready to marry you.

But your wedding bells did not chime that fast. He has his career and so do you, both of you just keep the stable relationship going on. Together facing the problems and obstacles in your relationship. Fights occur, bickering occur, threads of breaking up also happened once or twice… but both of you used that to build a stronger bond.

You always melt when Mark came home from a long day. After he showered and savored his dinner, he always ended up leaning on your shoulder in the big snuggle sofa both of you never regret buying. His head on your shoulder, his hand scribbling words to a paper and you whispering ideas to him which brought a big smile to his face.

Writing lyrics has been even easier for Mark, he blended your frustration with his, splattered some love words, and voila a masterpiece! People said his lyrics were relatable and both of you always keep it to yourself that “those happened in our life, no wonder it looked real.”

He always kissed you gently on your lips, tasting the faint cherry flavour of your lip balm. Mark’s lips tasted of medical lip balm, but you love it nonetheless.

You blinked and realized the flashing cameras in front of you. Oh right, someone from the hot magazine company is asking you a question.

‘Can you please repeat your question?” you asked politely to the lady holding out a mic.

She quickly nodded, “A lot of fans are wondering If you are still in a relationship with Mark. Mark was busy for the last months with projects and comebacks. And the interaction update from both of you are little to none. Fans suspected you were over with him, considering that Mark looked like he is the “plain” type in a relationship.”

You pressed a smile, hiding your urge to laugh out loud. Weren’t the fans always picturing Mark as their dream boyfriend? Why did they judge him as the plain boring type then?

You clear your throat and while looking through the crowds, you spot Mark Lee seated in the crowd with a mask and a hat, giving you a nod, and you turned your mic on.

“We’re still going strong; well I think love is not the type of grand gestures or explosive displays.” You started off and caught everyone’s attention.

“It’s made up of little things,” you felt your heart clench upon remembering all the small affections Mark always did to you. “It’s the little things Mark Lee did that say he is here, and he cared for me and that my life has intertwined so deeply into his that there was no need to think.” You take a pause to look at the audience.

Everyone looked impressed, but amongst them you catch one pair of gleaming proud eyes, the pair of eyes you’ve been waking up to for the last years, and the one you want to wake up to in the future years.

“It’s Mark’s casual intimacy that made us both stay strong and stronger.”

Applaud was heard through the room, you were holding your press conference because you were retreating from all the cooking shows and rumor has it you are going to marry Mark.

“Please pray for both of us, as we will be tying our bonds soon.” You leave the room after a bow and the man with mask and hat is already waiting for you outside the big crowded function hall.

His hand naturally makes its way to your waist and you never felt more sure to step into life with this man you love, Mark Lee.

“That was wonderful (y/n)~”

You smile, he did not dude you nor bro you nor baby you. “I love you Mark Lee,”

He leaned in for a peck behind the tinted black van window, “I love you most (y/n) Lee,” he winked and you rubbed your cheeks “Guess I have the Jaehyun syndrome now! Also I like it when you call me with that name.”

He quirked his eyebrow and smirked, “Don’t worry, you’ll be hearing that soon for the rest of your life.” He reached for your hand and kissed the knuckles.

“I met you thanks to your amazing handy work in cooking unforgettable dish.”

You rolled your eyes, “You were so amazed on my egg benedict Mark! How is that an unforgettable dish?”

He shrugged his shoulder, “I don’t know, something about you, cooking, and love made me this love struck and awfully amazed by simple things you did.”

the end

thanks for reading, put in comments for I’d love to interact with you on the story plot .. rant to me what you hate or like idc :D i want to talk with my readers! to thank you all for reading and spending some time here

omg i didn’t know if I made the right choice of making Mark Lee as this character, but I want it to be him.. I’ve been writing a lot of Jaehyun and Yuta fic and I guess Mark can be a refresher. Please let me know if someone else suits this better!

#mark lee x you #mark lee x y/n #mark lee x reader #mark x y/n #mark x you #mark x reader #mark lee #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark lee oneshot #mark scenarios #mark lee fanfic #mark lee fluff #mark imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 soft hours #nct fluff #mark fluff

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jonsa101 · 4 years ago

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Do you think when Max double back and said “we never talked about it” do you think Helen took it as yes finally he’s opening up and that’s why she hug him and laugh that relieved laugh? And then she asked him that question and she realize he still doesn’t get it??

Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!! This is a great question and such a hard one to answer as well! I’ve honestly considered a lot of scenarios in my mind about where Helen’s mind was at before and after the hug. I have gone back and forth about it but after analyzing it for awhile these are my final thoughts on it.

In my last ask I got from @abriaashley, I had mentioned that there was a very brief moment in that rooftop scene that reminded of me their rooftop scene in 1.17. Before I answered this ask, I took a couple days to really make sure that I knew what I was talking about but after analyzing it I know without a shadow of doubt this is the exact same expression. To me, this brief moment below is the most important key in understanding everything that happened during and after their hug.

But in order to understand why Helen has this expression on her face, we need to first examine the scene where we saw this expression first. In episode 1.17, Max and Helen are having a conversation within a conversation about their relationship. Everything is subtext but essentially Helen tells Max that she needs to “triage,” she can’t be his “all of the above” and that she’s removing herself as his doctor. Of course Max is upset by this and with his wonderful Freudian slip he reveals his true heart’s desire when he says...

But what if I want you?

After this declaration, we get this expression on her face and then Helen STICKS TO HER RESOLVE!

In the context of this scene, Helen’s expression here tells me two things:

Max telling her “what if I want want you” is exactly what she wants to hear. She clearly has feelings for him and hearing that is supposed to tempt and sway her resolve. But based on their current circumstances the idea of them is simply not possible and it’s heart aching.

She clearly doesn’t want to do what she’s about to do in this moment but she’s BUILDING UP THE WILL POWER to do what she feels she has to do!

This is my interpretation of why Helen has that expression on her face. When I look at episode 3.10 where Helen has that same look before she hugs Max, I think the same reasons apply for this moment as well. As an avid Sharpwin shipper it’s easy to fan girl about these intimate moments and get carried away but when you logically look at their scene and the scene that took place right before, hopefully what I explain will make perfect sense to you.

Before Max and Helen’s moment on the roof, Helen had a GUT-WRENCHING scene with her niece. Mina is still heavily grieving her father and this explains so much of why she’s also had a lot of behavioral issues. She’s suffering emotionally and is desperately trying to find some semblance of peace and healing. Shanthi Sekaran, the writer for this episode, said the inspiration for this scene was Micaheanglo’s Pieta and how fitting it was for this moment between them.

“Pieta” which translates to pity or compassion, shows the the Virgin Mary compassionately holding on to the dead body of Jesus as she sorrowfully contemplates the death of her beloved son.

Like this sculpture, Helen compassionately holds Mina and comforts her as Mina is overcome with her grief and as Helen is trying to empathize with the depths of Mina’s sorrow! It’s just such a beautiful thing to witness and why I’m hoping Mina sticks around for the long haul. There’s so much emotional investment already and in this moment of their lives, they desperately NEED EACH OTHER! So when you look at everything from a wholistic perspective and you look at the chain of events that led Helen to be on that rooftop in the first place, does it LOGICALLY make sense that Helen would be in the headspace to address her relationship with Max or even kiss him? Nooooooooo!!!!

It doesn’t make sense!

If anything, her actions in this scene is a reflection of what she did earlier with Cassian when she broke up with him. As she made her niece first priority with Cassian, she is essentially making her niece first priority again with Max, despite being in love with him!

Let’s breakdown 3.10’s rooftop scene so y’all can know where I’m coming from.

Part 1 of this scene is Max and Helen discussing parenting and him emotionally supporting her when she feels like she had a parenting fail. This should have been the first clue for us to understand how this moment between them would play out because this issue with Mina was the main thing that was clearly plaguing her mind!

In part 2 of this scene, Max turns to leave and then after briefly hesitating, he turns around says

“I’m sorry about Cassian.”

As soon as he says this we see this same expression we saw in 1.17. Then Max continues and says.

I don’t know what to...say. I mean, we never talk about it.”

Y’all I said this in my last ask but this is a really big deal! This is Max’s first attempt to bring up the elephant in the room between them and it’s something that he’s never attempted to address before. Helen knows this is a big deal too and she knows where this conversation was headed. Hence why before the conversation could even go anywhere, Helen cut him off with a hug!

Like I said at the beginning of this post, the expression Helen makes before the hug is the key to understanding this scene in it’s entirety! Similar to 1.17 I believe the same reasons apply for her expression in 3.10 but vary slightly.

Once again, what Max is saying is exactly what Helen wants to hear but also what she’s been waiting for him to do! Unlike in season 1, Max and Helen are in completely different circumstances than they were back then. Subconsciously, they had feelings back then but now they are both fully aware that they’re in love with each other. The massive elephant in the room exists between them because they don’t talk about their feelings and they’re to afraid to voice that they’re in love with each other. There is no doubt in my mind that Max finally being able to at least broach the topic is something that she has always wanted Max to do. They seemingly don’t have anything that’s holding them back from being together but based by how I see it, the heart aching look on Helen’s face tells me that in Helen’s mind it’s essential she puts her sole focus into Mina, even if this is something she’s always wanted. (This Is KEY!)

Like 1.17, I think Helen was building up that will power to tell him that she’s happy that their friends even though she’s in love with him. That hug between them was a lot of things. It was deeply loving and heartfelt. It was cathartic with pent-up angst and longing semi-released but most of all, it was desperate and supportive. Despite this, I also believe that this hug was used to avoid a conversation that Helen didn’t want to have. If she allowed that conversation to go any further she would have 100% been swayed and would have probably given into her feelings. But Helen didn’t want to be swayed. She wanted to stick to her resolve that Mina is her first priority! Is this a problematic mindset? Yes! But after that emotionally charged moment with Mina I can see how Helen might think she’s making the right decision.

Also, I’m convinced that if Mina’s breakdown didn’t happen before Max and Helen’s moment on the rooftop, they would have probably had that conversation. But since it did happen, it totally plays a role in what transpires between Helen and Max.

For the moments after they hug this is how I interpret those interactions:

When Helen says to Max “what you said earlier” initially I thought she was referring to something he said earlier in the day. Now that I’ve taken a couple of days to really think about it, I just don’t think that makes sense. Again, after Helen’s moment with Mina, I don’t think she was in the headspace at all to talk about her feelings for him. This scene was more so about Max stepping up and being emotionally supportive of her and I think what’s she’s actually referring to is Max saying “But it helps not to be alone.” In that moment Helen recognized that Max will unequivocally support her and I think that’s something she’s incredibly grateful for. When Max responds with “what did I say?,” I genuinely believe he’s not thinking straight because he so overwhelmed and overjoyed to have Helen in his arms. Also, I think naturally he asks that question because he wants to know for future reference what he needs to keep saying to keep her in his arms 🥰.That look that she gives Max before she tells him that she’s really glad that they’re friends isn’t necessarily a look of disappointment because of Max. After I watched it again, that look to me is more so of a look of “I hate that I’m doing this but I have to do this.” As she is gazing into his eyes, it’s her final push to stick to her resolve! Her mind was already made up and she was going to see that decision through.

Y’all I’m going to wrap this up here because this ask wasn’t supposed to be a meta but ended up that way! Lol! Though these are my opinions on what transpired in 3.10 that doesn’t change my opinion of how I see things unfolding for Sharpwin this season. I just think it’s important to put scenes in proper context. Though Helen might have said that they’re friends, it is so evident that she is clearly in love with him. Like Max, she can’t pretend or neglect her personal wants and needs forever! The great sleeping bear of her desire stirred and is wide awake! Sooner rather than later that bear needs to be fed!

Feel free to reach out to me through my Dms on Tumblr or on Twitter! @oyindaodewale. Also my ask box is always open! 🥰

None of the Gifs in this post are mine!

#new amsterdam #sharpwin #max goodwin #helen sharpe #sharpwin meta #max x helen #new amsterdam meta #jonsa101 ask

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captainrexforever · 4 years ago

Text

One Unique Gift

Rating: T

Word count: ~1k

Summary: The reader convinces her riduur to sleep in a real bed for once.

Warnings: fluff, more fluff, a couple kisses, some suggestive themes

Note: Oh, hey, this isn’t me posting a Christmas Day oneshot the day after Christmas...well, maybe. Hopefully I can you bribe you with the promise of fluffy times ahead. I hope you enjoy!

P.s. I have not yet accepted the destruction of the Razor Crest, so just assume this is set before the beginning of Season 1.

Din is nothing if not stubborn, but you have also come to learn that he can be quite the tightwad. He never spends money on something if he can get by without it. In all honesty, it’s not really that surprising, you’ve seen the tattered cloaks he wears and the bare necessities that furnish the ship. In fact, you often wonder how long it’s been since he took a proper shower with actual soap.

So, the next time Din lands the Crest on a friendly planet, you decide to spring your latest idea on him.

“Won’t it be nice to stay in a real bed for once?”

Of course, the only response you receive is a muffled grunt and a tilt of his helmet. But you aren’t about to give up so easily.

“Remember when I took that knife wound for you last month, and you promised that I could ask for any favor in return?”

He just grunts a second time, but you take it as a good sign; when he’s not listening, he will refuse to make a sound at all. Eventually, you talk him into booking a place at one of the hotels that sit in the nearby city. Truthfully, it’s a little suspicious how easily he gives in to your request, but you’re definitely not about to complain. Maybe he is finally realizing that he needs to take a break every now and then.

Now, really any hotel would have seemed fancy to you. It’s not that you don’t enjoy living on the Razor Crest, but it doesn’t even have a door on the fresher, for goodness sake. However, here’s another fact about Din, he never does anything in half measures. So after giving in to your request, he books a room at the fanciest hotel he can find. Obviously, you protest immediately, quick to point out that there are only so many credits at your disposal for personal use. Yet, he just waves off your rebuttal and instructs you to begin packing a bag for the stay.

With a huff, you turn and head to your sleeping quarters to do just that, even though there are only a handful of items that you will need. Once that task is accomplished, it’s off to the hotel. A brilliant idea crosses your mind, maybe if you’re clever about it you can convince Din that the hotel is far enough from the ship to warrant using his jetpack. Oh, you’re definitely going to have fun with this.

It’s much later that evening that you’re lying in bed, counting the speckles on the ceiling while Din crawls underneath the covers beside you. Of course, he’s already swept the entire room for any tech and deemed it safe enough to remove his helmet and armor. You have to admit there was something about watching him prowl about the room that set off an instinctual hum inside you though.

You have already tested the heated bath tub and the plush couch, but the bed...the bed is something else entirely. When you initially settled over top of the mattress a few moments ago, you swear it sunk down a foot. It’s impossible to resist nestling further into the soft pillows and blankets, if only to further appreciate the experience. Din finally slides beneath the covers as well, and you roll onto your side to fully face him. He is just as gorgeous as ever, but he looks a little unsure of himself, and you decide that is a problem which you must rectify immediately.

“What’s bothering you riduur?”

He releases a soft huff before responding. “I hope that I never...disappoint you.”

The vulnerable tone tugs at your heart strings, and you rush to correct his wayward assumptions. “You never let me down Din. Ever. And that’s final.”

He offers a soft smile at your response, and you’re humbled by how easily he allows you to ease his worries. Yet, you can’t resist teasing him just a little bit. Contrary to what you believed when you first met the Mandalorian, Din has quite the sense of humor.

“So what’s my Life Day gift?” It’s accompanied with a wiggle of your eyebrows and a cheeky grin.

He looks a little surprised at your question, wrinkles forming across his brow as he ponders a response, and the confusion that spreads across his features only encourages your humorous mood.

“You didn’t forget about Life Day, did you?”

“What gift did you get me?” He finally answers.

“You can’t answer my question with another question.”

“Yes I can.”

“No you can’t.”

He locks his gaze with yours and you huff when he goads you into a staring contest. Truthfully, you don’t have a real gift for him, just a promise of your continued love, but it suddenly feels silly to admit that sentiment aloud.

When a couple minutes have passed, and he hasn’t so much as blinked you finally give in.

“Fine. I’ll go first.” You finally blink, stalling for a second. It’s not that you haven’t already exchanged promises of love, but this time seems special. There’s something so domestic about laying in a proper bed and exchanging vows of love. “For what it’s worth, I offer you my heart.”

His breath catches as he leans in to plant a kiss on your forehead before tucking you closer to his chest. A pleased hum escapes your lips and you almost forget that he has yet to answer your previous question. Almost.

“What about my gift?”

His responding chuckle is a wonderful rumble beneath your palms. “Well you already own my heart, so I will have to get a little creative here...” He pulls away a little, only to pin you with a wicked smirk. “Let’s just say your gift involves you, me, this bed-” Then he leans in close, whispering the rest of his sentence into your ear, while his breath tickles his neck. The remainder of his words leave you a blushing, flustered mess and he pulls away with a self-satisfied smirk. You can’t decide whether or not to kiss or smack the smirk off his face, until another idea crosses your mind. In a flash, he’s pinned beneath your body as you press a heated kiss to his collarbone. His next breath hitches at the action, eyebrows shooting into his hairline while he mutters under his breath.

“I don’t like the look on your face.” Din complains.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you love it.” It’s spoken against his neck while you suck a mark into his skin. He just releases a muffled groan, and you follow up with another kiss.

“I fully expect you to deliver on that gift by the way.” You remind him, then move to plant a kiss to his lips.

There is no doubt that the delicious sound which escapes him will be seared into your memory forever.

#i don't even know what this is #my hand slipped #that's the only explanation #the mandalorian x reader fluff #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin fluff #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #pedro pascal x reader

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perksofhs · 4 years ago

Text

“Baby you know I love you right?”

Hi lovelies! Here is my first request piece! I originally posted this ages ago but it seemed to be blocked and wasn’t viewable in tags. Anyway enjoy! Xx

He’d started feeling ill a few days before Christmas Eve, a sniffly nose, sore throat, hot and cold sweats and a fever leading to the conclusion that he had in fact come down with a rather bad flu. He was nuzzled under a mound of blankets that every couple of hours would be thrown off at the onset of a hot sweat even though he knew he’d be freezing in about 10 minutes and have to pull them all back up. He was surrounded by an ever growing number of used tissues and half empty cold and flu medicine packets. You’d been there the whole time insisting that you loved being the care taker for him like he’d done multiple times for you in the 10 months you’d been together. And it was true, plus he was cute when he was sick, he was super cuddly, wanting nothing but you to be next to him holding him close. You knew getting sick yourself was inevitable but you really couldn’t care less, he needed you and you relished in it.

“You need to eat more than that, two spoonfuls isn’t enough” you said, trying to get him to have at least another few mouthfuls of the soup you had prepared but he refused like a stubborn child. “C’mon its pumpkin, your favourite, please baby have some more, I promise it will make you feel better” he huffed and cautiously pushed himself up into a sitting position “Hm fine i’ll have some more, but only because I love you”. “I love you too, plus you want to be better for Christmas Day, being sick on Christmas is the worst. Eat up buttercup! I’m going to duck to the shop and grab a few things to finish out the Christmas shopping before it gets crazy over the next few days. That better be gone when I get back” you said giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “Ok, can you get me some more tissues and cough drops? My throat is still killing me” he said with a pout “Ok baby I’ll add them to the list, I’ll be back in an hour or so, don’t forget to drink water, and take another cold and flu, the last one will be starting to wear off soon an-” “I think I can handle it babe, just go!” Harry laughed, urging you to get out the door. “Fine! Fine! I’m going! Love you baby” you responded, grabbing your keys and twirling your scarf around your neck before opening the door and bracing the brisk December air.

You’d come home about 2 hours later, trudging inside struggling slightly with the 6 bags of last minute Christmas supplies and a few gifts. You walked down the hallway, dropping the bags on the kitchen island with thud. “Baby how are you feeling? Did you take your cold and flu?” you said, walking into the lounge only to be met with a very asleep Harry, cuddled deep into his blanket nest, messy curls stuck to his slightly sweaty forehead. You placed a soft kiss on his forehead before puling the blankets up slightly, doing your best to gently tuck him in. The room was a mess so you grabbed a spare plastic bag and started tidying the mess. Amongst the tissues, medicine and cough drop wrappers strewn across the coffee table was his leather bound journal, wide open with the a pen resting in the the middle of the two papers. As you reached across to grab the rubbish that surrounded it, you couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of what was freshly written in the journal. What you read made your heart sink, “I really do love her, please don’t let this be another failed relationship where the love is only from one side again. I don’t think I could handle another broken heart at Christmas. I need her to love me too”. It took you a moment to process those words. Why would he ever think that you weren’t truly in love with him? When he’d said ‘I love you’ you’d said it right back, tears in your eyes, no hesitation or questioning whether you loved him back because it was so obvious that you did. You knew his last couple of relationships didn’t end well but you had no idea that his heart had been broken once or maybe twice at what was meant to be the most magical time of the year.

The sound of Harry starting to stir awake snapped you out of your thoughts, quickly swiping the last few tissues into the bag, flipping the journal closed as if you’d read nothing. Although you couldn’t hide the sadness in your face, the fact that you were on the verge of tears was all too evident. “Mmm you’re back” Harry mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Yep, got everything done, all ready for Christmas day now.” you tried to brush off what you’d just found out but your voice was every so slightly wavering. “Babe are you ok?” He said, reaching out to grab your free hand, stopping you from trying to walk away. A tear slid down your cheek at his words, you frantically tried to wipe it away and brush it off “Yeah yeah I’m fine” you assured but he wasn’t that stupid. “No you’re not, what happened? Did something happen while you were out? Are you hurt?” he worried about you going out by yourself now that your relationship was known to the world. Your features softened, you debated with yourself on whether to mention what you’d just read, on one hand it’s a massive invasion of privacy and it was obviously not meant for your eyes to see but you also needed him to understand that you were committed, fully, to this relationship, to him. “Baby you know I love you right? No ifs ands or buts, I really truly love you” you said, finalising your decision, not answering the questions he’d posed. For a moment he looked completely confused, the sudden profession of your love for him taking him by surprise but then it clicked and his eyes flicked across to his journal.

His expression changed to one of guilt. “Did I do something that made you question it? Do I not show it enough? I don’t know what else I can do!” you said, kneeling down to his level, taking his hands into yours, him gripping them tighter than he ever had. “No baby its nothing you did, I’ve just had so many failed relationships that I can’t turn my brain off when it starts questioning things. You know it was around Christmas two years ago that my last proper relationship broke down?” He was nearly crying, his already red eyes welling up. You knew his last girlfriend was a piece of work but you never imagined she’d be that heartless, especially at Christmas. “Harry I had no idea” you said, placing your hands on his cheeks, lifting his tired sad eyes to meet your similarly watery ones “I can promise you though, right here right now, that that will never happen with me. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone. Not only have you added to my life in the most positive way but you have changed me for the better. You helped me realise my worth. You are the most kind, most genuine, most loving partner I have ever have and ever intend on having because you are my end zone Harry. There is no doubt in my mind that you are my person and you shouldn’t have any doubt either. I love you H, and I will forever.” The tears were rolling down his cheeks, as they were yours, a watery smile on his lips. You pulled in him, placing your lips ever so gently on his, solidifying the words that you’d just said. His hands rose to your cheeks, wiping away your tears. “Thank you” is all he could manage to say. “Thank you for what?” you enquired, puzzled by his response. “Thank you for loving me, for loving me entirely. I love you so much” he said before pulling you up into the warmest hug. You smiled, finally content with him knowing that there was never a need to be insecure, you loved him and he loved you and that was that.

You pulled away from the hug, sniffing back the rest of the tears “Ok now that we’ve got that all sorted, have you taken your cold and flu? You’re feeling a little warm” he couldn’t help but chuckle at you getting straight back into carer mode. “I did take them and I ate all of my soup I promise, all I want right now is for you to stay here with me, I need a proper cuddle.” You laughed, happily obliging, plopping yourself down next to him, his arms wrapping themselves securely around your waist with yours around his neck “I love you baby” you said, pecking a kiss to his slightly sweaty neck “I love you too baby, so much” he said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before closing his eyes contently asking himself what he ever did to deserve any of this.

This is another instalment of the ‘The Words you Speak’ series, I’d normally put the link but putting links seems to have been what stopped this post from being viewable so just click on my profile and the Masterlist link is at the top! xx

#imagine harry styles #one direction #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fic #harry fanfic #harry x reader #harry styles x reader

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whumpiary · 4 years ago

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hell angst mirror piece to this (cassius’ morning after his first time with christopher). this piece is a proper expansion on this ask, as requested by @rosesareviolentlyread, and spurred on by the tears of @untilthepainstarts and @wildfaewhump

content warning: implied noncon (but not actually), drugging (but not actually), emeto, paranoia, confusion, miscommunication in the worst possible way

He’s woken up.

He’s woken up alone.

In a bed that isn’t his with no idea how he got there.

He has last night in his head. And here’s this morning.

And his first thought is Oh. Again.

It should be familiar by now. It should feel so, so familiar by now.

This room is usually so comforting. The sheets smell like Josiah. Like protection and bad moods and steady hands and safety. Except now he’s lying here alone, head full of sand and fog, and he doesn’t know what he’s meant to do with the fact that none of those things are true anymore.

They were true last night. They can’t be true this morning.

Because he doesn’t know what happened in between.

And worse than that, he does know. He knows exactly what happened. Doesn’t he?

He sits up and it’s like the world shifts and melts around him, settling in against the carpet as he curls his fingers around the edge of the mattress. The fog, heavy and familiar and horrible, sits around him like a numb layer between him and the world around him. He wishes it felt like armour. It feels more like a pillow smothering him.

A knock at the door. He looks up at it. Doesn’t answer. It opens anyway.

Josiah’s standing there with a mug in his hand, brow wrinkled in that ever-present almost frown. It looks a little like worry this morning. Maybe that’s the fog too. The fog and wishful thinking. “Hey.”

Cass swallows the sand in his mouth.“Hey.”

“Didn’t expect you to be awake.”

Yeah. I bet.

Cass shrugs. Swallows again. “Sorry.”

“Oh. No. I didn’t mean...” Josiah frowns and shakes his head a little as though to clear it. Cass blinks slowly. Tries to keep his eyes on Josiah. Tries not to lose him to the mist. Miss the moment he’ll move closer. “How’re you feeling?”

Cass raises a shoulder. Drops it. He’s tired. He’s tired and he’s fucking sad. He’s so, so sad. He knows this feeling. He knows this fog. He can’t see the edge of it.

It’s been so long since he’s woken up like this without knowing, at least, he did it to himself.

The last thing he remembers from last night is… The last thing he remembers is…

“Cass?”

He looks up. “What?”

Josiah lifts the mug in his hand up a little.“I said I brought you tea.”

Cass blinks. “Why?”

Josiah blinks back, looking as lost as Cass feels. “To… drink?”

Cass stares at him. Is he meant to respond to that?

“Lou’s friend says I need to keep your fluids up. And I thought tea might be… soothing. Or something.”

Cass kinda wants to laugh. He wasn’t really aware there was a handbook for post-roofie aftercare.

“Oh.”

His eyes follow Josiah’s hands as they move to set the mug down on the bedside table. There’s steam curling up from the rim. Tag of two teabag still hanging over the edge ‘cause Josiah knows he likes it left in. Is he meant to be grateful for that?

“-lu or something.”

“What?”

“I said you have the flu or something.”

Cass looks at him. Blinks. Don’t lie to me. But he’s so tired.

“Right,” he says. He nods slow. Wraps his arms around his middle. “M’sick, right?”

“Right.”

He wants to gag on the lie but he swallows it instead.

He swears he blinks and suddenly Josiah’s hand is against his forehead. He flinches back, turns his head away. “What’re you doing?”

Josiah moves back a little. Almost like he’s startled. “Just checking your temp. Like I said.”

“Oh.”

“That alright?”

Cass shakes his head before he can think better not to. “I don’t… I, um. I don’t-”

He puts his hands under his thighs, rocking forward. The fog is thick and churning. He can’t think straight. He can’t focus.

“I don’t want you touching me.”

It’ll work or it won’t. But at least he’s said it.

Not now. Not anymore.

It’s a dangerous thing to say. It’s the worst thing he could say, probably. But it’s the only thing he’s sure of in a fog he can’t see through. He takes in a shaking breath.

“I don’t… I don’t want-”

“Okay,” Josiah says. So simple it seems like a trap. So soft that Cass wants to crash forward into his arms. Even now. Even after. Especially after. “Okay, I won’t.”

Josiah keeps talking. Something about a thermometer.

The charade of it all is confusing. Kinda cloying.

The fog, today, is more like static. More like white noise.

Cass curls his toes against the carpet. His shoes are resting just by the door, socks too. Which means at some point Josiah took them off for him. It’d be nearly sweet if it wasn’t for, like… everything else about this.

Josiah’s standing between him and the exit. Cass wonders if that’s intentional.

He doesn’t understand.

Usually when he wakes up like this, he kind of gets it. Some lost puzzle piece slots into place.

Some feeling of Oh. Right. Of course.

Some realisation of a sign he missed. Some huge flags suddenly turning bright red.

But today he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand why Josiah… Why, of all people, Josiah would-

“Cass? You still with me?”

“Why would you do that?” Cass says. The question slips out of him. Escapes on the exhale but once its out, it’s all he wants to know.

“What?”

His skin hurts. His head hurts. The fog is forever. Infinite. Inevitable. He needs this done with. He needs this over.

“Why would you…” he takes a breath in and it feels like the world is falling away from him. Down and down and down. “Why would you do that to me?”

Josiah just looks at him, stupidly. “Do what?”

Cass screws his eyes shut. Hangs his head forward. “Please don’t make me fucking say it.”

The silence that falls between them is mountainous. Loud. It seems to echo off the walls, off the ceiling, off the floor. It seems to go on and on and on.

Josiah clears his throat and Cass tries not to flinch. “Cass, I’m not sure-”

“What, um, what were they?”

Josiah frowns, shakes his head in confusion. Like he’s the one in fogs, “What were what?”

“The… the, um. What you gave me. The, the pills. Last night. They were, what were the, um-”

“Panadol,” Josiah says, frown deepening. “For the fever.”

“For the fever.”

“Yeah.”

Cass looks up at him, frowning. “I don’t… I don’t get it.”

“You’re sick Cass.”

Cass shakes his head and screws his eyes shut tight. He shakes his head and he shakes his head and he shakes his head. “I don’t understand.”

The fog is inside of him now. He could swear it. Inside him and eating him whole. Like he’s drowning from the inside out. He whines, holding his head. God, he feels sick.

“Cass-“

“I would’ve done it,” he says. He feels like waves are crashing against his skull. He feels like his head is full of sand. He feels seasick. “Whatever you wanted. Whatever you were… I would’ve done it.”

“Done what?”

“You didn’t have to- I don’t understand. I would’ve just- you could’ve just-“

He lurches forward. Josiah must’ve noticed something before he does because the other man is already there, holding a bucket – an old ice cream tub – in front of him, just in time. He gags again, dry retching, as Josiah’s hand lands on his shoulder as though to steady him.

“Jᴏsɪᴀʜ, ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ ᴍᴇ,” he gets out, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Josiah’s hands retreat, leaving him with the bucket. “I said- I told you I don’t want you touching me.”

“Sorry.”

Cass almost wishes that it hadn’t worked. He almost wishes Josiah would just slap him. Hold him down. Hurt him. It’s so much easier than the tricks. Than the fog. Than the lies.

He doesn’t understand. He throws up again.

This time Josiah doesn’t reach for his shoulder. He can see the other man out of his periphery. Standing there, uselessly. It’s another minute or so before the spasms in his gut stop. A sob wracks him instead.

“Why?” he asks, hands wrapped around the container. Another sob. “Why?”

Why would you do that? Why would you do that? Why would you do that to me?

Josiah doesn’t seem to understand what he’s asking. “You’re… you’re just sick, Cass. The flu we think.”

We.

Jesus, what did that mean? What the hell did that mean?

He can’t remember, he can’t remember, he can’t remember.

“If I’m sick then why did you… Why would you…”

He can’t say it. Can never say it. Putting words to it feels like making it real all over again.

How are you meant to make real a horror you can’t even remember?

“I would’ve done it,” he says. “I would’ve just done it. You could’ve just asked. Just… just started touching me even and I would’ve… I wanted you anyway, I would’ve…”

“I don’t know what you’re saying to me,” Josiah says. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

Cass coughs a laugh. He’s so dizzy. “What the f-fuck is there to understand?”

“I’m just trying to look after you.”

“Why?”

Why bother? Why try? Why pretend? Why me?

“Because, Cass. You’re s-”

“Because m’sick,” he says. “Right.”

He sits there with his head hanging. He’s so tired. He’s so sad. It’s just fog and exhaustion and sadness and the same empty thought on a loop.

Why would he do that to me?

But he knows why, doesn’t he? Knows it perfectly well.

It’s been so long since this has happened and now here’s here again and he… He can’t do this. He’s so tired. He doesn’t want to fight. He doesn’t want to reason. He doesn’t want to understand anymore. He’s too tired.

Whatever happened, he doesn’t want to know.

“I’m sick,” he says, eyes screwed shut. “I’m sick. Flu or something.”

He offers out the bucket. Josiah takes it. “Yeah. Lou’s friend said-”

“Yeah. Fluids.”

“Yeah. Can you do that?”

Cass looks at the tea, the steam coming off it, the tag of the tea bag hanging over the side. He nods. What else is he gonna do?

The fog is thick. It weighs him down. It feels heavy enough to smother him. Cass lays his head down on the pillow, feet still brushing the floor.

“Gonna… try and sleep it off,” he mumbles, eyes slipping shut. Tries not to think about the echoes in his head.

“Okay.”

The sounds of Josiah’s footsteps on the carpet are so relieving. So, so relieving. He’d thought for a second he might try and sit on the bed.

“I’ll come in and check on you later.”

Cass nods against the pillow, pulls bare feet up onto the bed sheets.

Ignores the echoes. Ignores the echoes. Ignores the echoes.

“Just… yeah. Try and sleep it off.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

What else is he gonna say?

It’ll happen anyway.

#implied or referenced noncon #except not #drugging cw #except still not #emeto cw #paranoia cw #cassius #josiah

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

Text

[CN] Love Carnival - Part 4 (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an event which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

There are five parts in total! Brace yourself for tons of fluff :>

Part 3: here

[ LUCIEN ]

Looking around the adorably and warmly decorated cafeteria, and then the little gift that came along with the meal, I’m a little confused.

A few minutes ago, we were thinking about what to have for dinner, and we walked into this warm and adorably decorated small shop.

But we didn’t expect...

MC: I really didn't think it’d be so “hardcore”.

I hold up the little gift, placing it in between Lucien and I.

It’s different from the small ornaments and objects with a feminine aura from my memories.

This cafeteria gives a heart-shaped Burr puzzle to patrons who order the couple set.

MC: The dishes are so delicious that they’re comparable to top-grade restaurants. Even the gifts they provide are just as hardcore. It’s amazing.

Lucien is tickled by my dead serious expression.

Lucien: Looks like the organiser has put in much effort, wanting to leave every visitor with unforgettable and happy memories.

MC: But giving visitors a heart which can’t be unlocked - what’s the owner of the shop thinking...

Without a proper strategy, I play with the Burr puzzle, and can’t help but grumble.

Lucien chuckles, taking this “heart” from my hand.

Lucien: With a little technique, it can be opened easily.

He sits slightly closer to me. Slowing down, he gives me a demonstration while explaining the technique of how to unlock the Burr puzzle.

With the movement of his fingertips and a gentle tug, the wooden lock, which was linked for a very long time, opens, revealing a tiny empty space in the heart which can be used to store things.

MC: Even though you’re already sick of this phrase, I still have to say - Lucien, you’re truly incredible.

Lucien: If I say that I haven’t gotten sick of this phrase, would you be willing to say it to me even more times?

Lucien turns his head over slightly to look at me. In his eyes are the familiar smile and slyness I’m most familiar with.

MC: If I say it, will I get a special prize from Professor Lucien?

After hearing this, Lucien actually ponders over it.

He narrows his eyes slightly, as though he’s facing the most complex, important, and difficult question.

Lucien: If it’s a prize...

All of a sudden, he leans over to my ear. Every gentle word brushes against my outer ear, trickling into my heart.

Lucien: Would an especially happy Lucien be enough?

MC: ...Professor Lucien, that’s called being unreasonable.

Lucien: Is that so? I even thought you’d be very satisfied with it.

Lucien blinks, pretending to be taken aback.

Just when I think of how to best turn the tables, he places the wooden mortise of the Burr puzzle, which is used to store items, in my hand.

Lucien: Want to think of what to put in here? Given its structure, I’m thinking this is a safer place to store tiny keepsakes.

MC: Yes.

I turn towards the staff at the side, asking for a few sheets of post-its and pens, and also to allowing the temperature on my face to dissipate.

After we write on our respective notes for a while, Lucien and I exchange them.

On mine, there’s a simple drawing of a man opening a lock, a handsome smile on his face.

What Lucien hands over is a sketch.

In the simple composition, in the midst of light and shadow, he impressively draws me.

The me in the picture has her head lowered, writing on the post-it note, smiling very sweetly.

MC: Now, we’re doubly satisfied!

[ VICTOR ]

We walk and pause, finally ending up before the Pendulum ride.

Pointing at the attraction, where shrill cries can be heard constantly, I think of that children’s day when he had taken the “Time Traveler” ride with me.

And how time had stopped for a few seconds during the descent.

[Note] This is a reference to Fairytale Date!

MC: Want to give this a try?

I turn my head, looking at Victor expectantly.

Victor: No.

As I expected, Victor rejects me.

MC: Victor, could you be scared?

Victor: Of course not.

His expression is stern, and he looks forward.

MC: In that case, ride it with me!

While saying this, I pull him along with me and we sit down.

There’s still some time before the ride begins. The chatter and laughter from people in the queue before us continuously drift over.

Enthusiastic visitor: A friend of mine took the Pendulum before. When it was over, he calmly said that it wasn’t much. In the end, he started puking after taking a few steps.

Happy visitor: Hahahaha, the same thing happened to my colleague. He sat for the ride in another place once, and screamed until his voice was hoarse at work the next day. He had to drink chinese medicine for the entire day.

I’m somewhat tickled by the conversations.

MC: They’re speaking so exaggeratedly. How could that be possible? What do you think?

The criticism I expected doesn’t arrive.

Finding this a little odd, I look at Victor, realising that he’s strapping on his seatbelt seriously, his expression stern.

Oh...?

I really wish I could take out my phone and snap a picture of this Victor before me.

The Pendulum truly lives up to its name.

At first, I even thought it’d be so-so.

But when the Pendulum’s amplitude grows increasingly larger, till it feels like I’m being tossed around, I can’t help but scream.

MC: Ahhhhh--

This! Is! Too! Scary!

Just when I’m forced to sit through these parabolic motions, my left hand is gently held onto by someone.

Bracing against the violent wind, I open my eyes. Victor is sitting straight and quietly in his seat. His posture is tense, yet he looks as though he’s very calm.

Amid the shrill screams, I can vaguely hear his voice.

Victor: Don’t be afraid.

Stepping off the Pendulum, I immediately grasp for the railing at the side.

However, when I see Victor’s crooked tie and slightly unkempt hair, I can’t help but burst into laughter.

This time, I don’t let this chance slip by, and keep this dishevelled Victor in my phone.

I make a decision to have this picture printed out to be placed at the bedside.

Victor: ...what are you doing this time?

MC: Nothing, nothing! Oh yes, what do you think of this attraction?

Victor: ...so-so.

MC: If you’re afraid, you can just say so. It’s a normal human reaction, and I won’t laugh at you.

Victor: I’m not afraid.

MC: In that case...

I look at Victor, my smile growing wider.

MC: Let’s ride it again!

Victor: ...

MC: You aren’t going to prove that you aren’t afraid?

Victor: Let’s go then.

MC: Eh?

Victor: Since you’re so enthusiastic about this ride, you’ll definitely experience it together with me. Am I wrong?

Seeing Victor arch his brows slightly, and turning my game against me, I respond with certainty--

MC: I’m sorry! We’ll head to another attraction right now!

[ KIRO ]

The cafeterias in the Love Carnival must have gone through a lot of designing in order for moe flowers to appear easily for couples.

Every single themed cafe is packed to the brim. I hurriedly pull Kiro, who is wearing a wig, away from these “danger zones”.

There aren’t many people in the forest right now, leaving only the rustling of leaves.

MC: It’s a good thing I thought of this scenario beforehand.

Kiro: Deng deng deng deng!

When we speak in unison yet again, we retrieve picnic mats from our individual bags, and look at each other blankly.

MC: ...I made enough for two. Did you also buy two sets?

Kiro: I was worried the cafeterias would be too crowded and we’d be hungry.

Kiro: But...

His voice grows soft, and I don’t know what he’s struggling with.

In the end, he purses his lips, turning his eyes to me.

Kiro: I didn’t buy them.

MC: ...hm?

He chuckles in embarrassment, spreading the picnic mat smoothly on the ground, and taking out food boxes from the bag.

Seeing these food boxes, I’m left slightly stunned. Based on my memory of how long I’ve known Kiro, it seems that I've never had a taste of his cooking.

Kiro: I was thinking that since today is such a special day, even if we couldn’t sit in a cafeteria to have a couple set meal, we should at least have something special. I don’t want you to be left with any regrets today, so I was wondering how to make things different for you.

Kiro: And then... [laughs sheepishly] what you see in front of you happened.

I lift up Kiro’s food box. The rice has been scooped up in a crooked manner. Although the carrots could be said to be in heart-shapes, they look more like the heads of an arrow.

In the messy omelette, the ham seems to have sneaked out secretly. Perhaps it wanted to have a breath of air after being in such an enclosed space.

The octopus sausages are like blooming fireworks, hiding in the gigantic rice ball, too shy to see anyone. Meanwhile, the sandwich looks incredibly full, and it seems to have chicken drumsticks in it.

This looks like a far from perfect bento - shoddy and clumsy.

Kiro: ...what’s in front of you is already the best attempt.

MC: How many times did you make this?!

Kiro: I’ll let it remain an undisclosed secret forever.

He places his palm on his chest, closing his eyes and saying this quietly.

Chuckling, I hand the bento that I've prepared to him. In exchange, he gives me a few minutes’ worth of praises.

MC: This seems to be the first time I’m eating what you made.

Kiro: There shouldn’t be a problem.

He looks at me with certainty. His expression is exceptionally serious, causing me to laugh aloud.

MC: Why didn’t you show this to me before?

Kiro: They weren’t good enough.

MC: Have you met your standards now?

Kiro: Of course not! I just felt... that you’d be happy with this.

His eyes are bright, akin to a sun being hidden by soft clouds which are unable to shroud the light.

This perfectionist is slowly, bit by bit, willing to display the areas he isn’t perfect in before me.

Like the tender belly of a kitten.

MC: I’m especially happy. But if something does happen, you’ll have to take responsibility.

Kiro: Of course I’ll take responsibility! Even if nothing happens, I’ll also take responsibility! [laughs] I’ll take responsibility after eating.

The afternoon sunlight is just right. The quiet forest is reminiscent of a small world, embracing us.

MC: I’ll be digging in now!

[ SHAW ]

Ghost masks on sale are hung on the dark red wall. The masks have a sense of antiquity to them, and their bewitching and bizarre appearances look utterly terrifying.

Simply standing at the entrance of the haunted house makes one feel deeply frightened. And the rule of “Only one person can enter at one time” causes several people to shrink away.

Shaw and MC: ...

Shaw: Got the guts?

MC: What’s there to be afraid of?

Shaw: You first, or me?

MC: ...I’ll go first.

With a solemn expression, I prepare to enter. However, my wrist is suddenly gripped by Shaw, and he pulls me back.

Shaw: Wait. I’ll give you something.

I can feel him stuffing something into my hand.

Unfurling my hand, I see a string of Buddhist prayer beads laying quietly in my palm.

MC: ...

Shaw: Have a pleasant journey.

In the pitch-black and narrow pathway, I bite the bullet and move forward at a tortoise’s pace. My hands continuously twist the prayer beads, muttering to myself.

MC: Whether you're a monster, demon, or ghost, don’t come and scare me, don’t come and scare me...

Thud--

Footsteps sound from behind me, and the hair on my body immediately stands on end.

I’m rooted to the spot. After a few seconds, when I muster the courage to turn around, a hand plops onto my left shoulder.

MC: !!!

At this moment, my blood seems to freeze.

I quietly wait for two seconds, but nothing happens. Suddenly, there’s a twinge of hope in my heart--

Maybe it’s Shaw!

Thinking of how he usually likes to play tricks on me, I become even more certain of my guess.

With a deep breath, I give myself some courage and turn my head.

MC: Shaw--

??: Fuu.......

MC: ...

MC: IT’S A GHOST AHHHH--

With a speed which human eyes can’t capture, I huddle and curl into a corner, using my hand to cover my left ear, sensing goosebumps spreading across my entire body.

Along with my heartrending exclamation, a stream of chuckles resound at the same time.

??: It’s me.

Silvery white electricity appears in the darkness.

The person who’s speaking walks over to me. He squats down, a smile hanging on his lips, looking as though his prank has succeeded.

Shaw: Who was the one who made a solemn vow that she wouldn’t be scared?

I glare angrily at the person before me.

MC: I knew it was you! When you deliberately scare someone, of course they’d be scared! It’s an instinctive reaction. Also, you can scare someone to death, you know!

Weakly and helplessly, I hug myself tight. My voice is also trembling slightly.

He seems to be at a slight loss. After a while, he speaks.

Shaw: ...fine, I was wrong this time.

Perhaps genuinely feeling apologetic, Shaw pauses, his voice also a little more gentle.

Shaw: Hey, want to know a way so you wouldn't be scared?

MC: ...what is it?

I lift my head from my knees in curiosity.

He offers me a hand, his eyes crinkling slightly, filled with a wilful light.

Shaw: Follow me and they won’t scare you.

Shaw and I hold hands as we continue down this cramped pathway.

Because he’s by my side, I feel much more composed.

Female ghost: I’m~ Filled~ With~ Hatred...

All of a sudden, a hand plops onto my shoulder. Shaw and I pause in our footsteps.

I subconsciously tighten my grip on Shaw’s hand. In the next moment, I feel him returning the gesture with a squeeze.

Courage fills my heart. With this, Shaw and I turn around together...

??: IT’S A GHOST AHHHH--

Another shrill cry fills the pathway.

This time, however, the cry doesn’t belong to me, but to the “female ghost” with dishevelled hair.

Shaw extinguishes the electricity in his hand. He removes the ghost masks we saw at the entrance earlier, and laughs.

Shaw: If you want to scare me, you’ve got to put in more practise.

[ GAVIN ]

MC: What should we go for next?

Gavin and I are walking along the street, searching for our next target. A row of vending machines attract my attention.

The line of vending machines contain all sorts of toy capsules. From keychains to ornaments, there’s everything one could wish for.

Especially that one containing couple keychains. The furry keychains look exceptionally adorable.

I notice that Gavin has paused in front of one vending machine.

It’s a vending machine containing robots.

I vaguely recall watching a cartoon related to it when I was young. However, I wasn’t very interested in it, and never really understood it.

However, this looks like something Gavin would like.

MC: Gavin, there’s one vending machine I’d like to try. Could you wait here for me?

Gavin: Coincidentally, I do too.

I grin, nodding at him.

MC: Let’s split up and get the toy capsules we want, and we’ll meet back here later?

When we meet up again, I place the toy capsule in Gavin’s hand with satisfaction.

MC: Open it and take a look? Do you like it?

Gavin twists the toy capsule open, and surprise flashes across his eyes.

Gavin: I like it.

While he speaks, he pieces it together simply, letting the small, monochrome robot stand in his palm.

The little robot is holding a gun in one hand, and a shield in the other. Behind it is a structure resembling a one-sided wing.

On top of its circular head is a yellow antenna. Along with its four short limbs, it looks extremely cute.

Gavin: This is my favourite model.

MC: I got it randomly, and didn’t expect to get the right one.

Gavin: I was lucky too.

Gavin smiles, takes out a toy capsule, and opens it.

It happens to be the furry couple keychains I saw earlier.

One of them has soft and long ears, while the other has straight, sharp ears.

Gavin keeps the one with sharp ears, then carefully attaches the doll with the long ears on my bag. Pleased, he nods.

Gavin: Mm, it suits you.

Gavin keeps the little robot in his pocket, and the keychain swings next to me.

Seeing the gifts we’ve exchanged, sweetness brims from the depths of my heart.

MC: Having been with you for such a long time, I feel that my knowledge has been expanded.

Gavin: I've learnt quite a lot too.

Gavin pauses, then continues confidently.

Gavin: For instance, that the lipstick you're wearing today is the colour of red bean paste. And that you’ve curled your fringe slightly.

Pleasantly surprised, I blink and want to give him a round of applause for his perfect answer.

MC: What else?

Gavin: Also, that I have to separate the white from the yolk when making fried rice. And that succulents don’t need that much watering.

MC: Then... what are the steps to preparing sliced fish boiled in chilli oil?

Probably not expecting that I’d suddenly pose a question, he ponders it carefully before responding in an exceptionally solemn manner.

Gavin: I can’t explain it right now, but I noted it down in my notes.

After he finishes speaking, we look at each other, then laugh in unison.

MC: Gavin, tell me more about this robot. And about basketball, motorcycles, planes and all the things you like.

Gavin: Okay. I’m hoping that you’d give me more cooking classes too.

The corners of his lips curl upwards slightly, and fragments of sunlight flash in his eyes.

Gavin: I want to have an even better understanding of everything to do with you.

Part 5: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers

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ajbwasntwriting · 4 years ago

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Daughter!Reader x Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 2. Great Escape

First | Previous | Next

The previous chapter did rather well since I haven’t posted anything in years so here’s chapter 2. Shout out to my friend @theturtlesgohnnnng for reading all these chapters.

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

The sunlight stirred you, activating your hangover with it. Luckily you only had the headache to deal with. Daily drinking will give you that benefit.

Waking up you were dressed in your F/C shirt and some jeans, with one combat boot still on your foot. They were worse for wear but they carried you everywhere since the end began. You put your other boot back on, grabbed the bottle from last night, and wondered out of your room, stretching as you walked. You walked into the wives’ quarters where they all sat drinking, talking, and doing whatever it took to fill the day. Your father’s newest plaything Sherry was at the bar, talking with Amber. You placed the bottle on the counter next to her

“You need more Vodka.” You turned to exit

“We wouldn’t if you fucked off” she muttered under your breath. You stopped walking, commanding the attention of all the wives. You twirled on your heels,

“What was that Sherry?”. Her face went bright red with embarrassment and she struggled to come up with a good excuse.

“She told you to fuck off” Frankie chirped up from the couch. Sherry began to shiver. She was new and didn’t know how to handle you just yet. She looked around the room in fear but no other wife was responding

“Is this true, Sherry?”

“I-...I just” she continued to stumble until you interrupted her.

“Don’t worry about it Sherry” you said sweetly before leaving, more interested in the thumping of your head than Sherry’s feelings. You made your way to the top floor kitchen which was always stocked for the convenience of yourself and the wives and took a bottle of water. ‘Fuck off, huh?...not a bad idea.’ you went to prepare yourself a proper breakfast for the first time in forever.

You stood just at the edging of the forest, bow and arrow in hand, picking off a couple of walkers as they approached.

“Great shot, Y/N,” Fat Joey said behind you as the new guy Josh clapped. Between babysitting you and kissing your old man’s ass you wonder how they had time to come out here and watch your back.

“Hardly, it took me three shots.” You huffed as you scouted deeper. The archery wasn’t for practical purposes. You liked it when you were in the scouts and your old man figured you’d be sentimental enough to want to have a bow and arrow now. It gave you an excuse to leave...with a couple of babysitters.

“I’m done. Let’s go”. You announced heading back to the compound with your carers in tow. Once back inside the two went to follow you up to the top floor. “I can go by myself” you shot at them.

Josh began to argue “That’s against Nea-”

“Negan isn’t fucking here!” you barked back, causing Fat Joey to jump. You strolled ahead, the others not following you.

“What’s she so worked up about?” you heard them before ascending the stairs. You were usually kinder but today you had a mission and going out to shoot some arrows was just an excuse to descend from your floor without suspicion. You stopped off at a supply closet on the way up to your floor and grabbed a back-pack. It was small but it would serve your purpose.

That evening you showered for an hour, not knowing when you would get such a luxury again. You dressed in fresh pants that would be perfect for the DC spring and a button-up shirt. In your bag, you placed three bottles of water, some dried food, 30 rounds of bullets for your gun, some painkillers, a pair of wire cutters, some rope, and a knife sharpener. You had in your belt a handgun you had stolen from the supply and the engraved knife. Finally, your bow and quiver. Your plan was near perfect, it just needed to be activated. The last piece you left was a note tucked under your pillow. ‘Don’t try to find me’.

When the sky began to turn a warm orange you began running to the back stairwell and placing yourself under behind some steps. Concealed in the shadows you waited. There would be guards outside. Some might recognize you but you’d been hidden away from the world for so long it was more likely they’d think you were a code orange so you waited.

The change of the shift descended the steps, sauntering out the back door without a care in the world. You moved behind them, not earning a bit of attention as the people chatted amongst themselves. Once outside the guards went left and you went right, keeping an ear on their pace and trying to match it so they didn’t turn. You ducked behind a broken wall and was greeted with the final limit to your freedom. The damn walker fence. You pulled out the wire clippers and started working at the fence. Your heart began to beat rapidly ‘If I don’t get out while the guard is changing I’m screwed’.

To make matters worse a couple of the walkers now thought you were a snack, banging on the fence and growling in your direction. With quick hands, you peeled back an edge of the fence and crawled through. You dived out of the walkers grab, now clear of the fence and lying underneath a concrete mound which another walker was chained too, luckily on the other side so it had to lean over the concrete to reach you. Your breathing hastened and you began to crawl, narrowly missing walker after walker. Luckily their chains and spikes kept most of them upright.

You were nearly clear when you heard it. The exit door had creaked open, meaning the guard had officially changed. You had made it to a relatively safe spot but the walkers were wanting you and the guard was now paying attention.

“What’s that?” you heard one of them call. This was it you thought. She’s gonna come over here and shoot you dead. You could hear her heavy boots moving around. She’d see you soon. By some miracle, one of the mounted walkers had torn their attention from you and was now snapping at her. You held your breath as you looked for the pole it was mounted on, finding it within arms reach. You pushed your legs under you then grabbed the pole, trying urgently to loosen it. Your heart sat in your throat as she got closer till eventually, the pole slipped from its position and out of the hungry walker, who you guessed lunged at the woman. Under the cover of her screams, you jumped up and ran, sprinting for the forest edge. Your feet felt light despite the unlevel ground the air in your lungs fueled your adrenaline. And you ran.

As the sky turned light again when you began to hunt. ‘I need a walker’ you thought. You wandered into a small town. There were a few bumbling around you examining each from a distance. ‘Too old...too short…’.

You struck a few down with your new knife, noticing how their blood gave the engraved letters a rather romantic red hue. Through the slaughter, you saw her, the perfect walker. She was about your height and not too old. She even had your hair color! Now all you had to do was...catch her. You whistled at her. There were two more behind her but if your plan went perfect then they wouldn’t be a worry. You walked back to the forest, beckoning her onwards. She growled and grabbed you while two others bumbled behind her. You pulled your bow from your shoulder, aiming for one behind her and letting loose. The arrow struck it in the stomach but for once you didn’t mind. You took a few more steps back and loaded another arrow and let it fly at the other walker, hitting him square in the head. That was bad. You began to panic thinking you might kill your doppelganger. You walked them into the words, soon it would be life or death. You pulled an arrow and aimed for the final spare walker, putting him down too.

You pulled a final arrow into the bow, pulling the string taut as the doppelganger approached. She lunged at you and you kicked her, sending her back flying into a tree. Finally raising the arrow and shooting her shoulder, pinning her there. You pulled the rope from your bag and thickened it into a gag, tying it to her mouth and around the tree so she couldn’t bite you or move. She still could reach you but you’d have to deal with that. With your knife in hand, you began cutting her clothes off, the smell making you want to throw up. You then stripped yourself of your outfit and began to dress the walker, breaking one of her arms to get the shirt on her. ‘Thank god no one is around to see me in my undies’. The next touch was leaving your stuff there. The quiver and bow were dropped and your bag was thrown open. You left everything except the gun, the rounds, and a lone arrow. Finally, you carved off her face, walked around the tree, and cut her free. She moved slowly down the arrow to freedom and you sprinted, dropping the knife as you run.

After all this effort he better believe you were dead.

#twd #twd fanfiction #daughter reader x negan #twd negan #daughter x negan #the walking dead negan #twd fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #twd y/n #twd self incert #twd x reader #twd reader insert #daughter reader #twd reader #negan the walking dead #negan twd #AJ's Negan's Daughter AU

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maruscheese · 4 years ago

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Bust your kneecaps

Pairing: Yandere!Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warning(s): Implied death, cheating, toxic relationships, some angst at the beginning?, just Fuyuhiko doing baby gangsta stuff lmao idk

Your boyfriend cheats on you and you seek comfort in your best friend, who is also the Ultimate Yakuza.

“Darling, please, let’s talk about this,” You begged, showing your boyfriend a pleading look as you watched him hurriedly shove the last of his belongings in a suitcase.

“There’s nothing to talk about, y/n,” He stated coldly with a shrug of his shoulders, pressing down on the suitcase and swiftly zipping it shut, and with that, he pulled the luggage off the bed and on the wooden floor, pulling out the handle and inclining it slightly, ready to head out.

“But you… How can you do this to me? You said… I thought…” You tried to speak, trying to find something to say that could touch his heart, try to find the old him, the one who loved you.

But the words just weren’t coming out.

Mainly because at this point, there really wasn’t much left to say. It was clear by the way he sighed at your pathetic attempts at coercion and the way he raised his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“Y/n… Look, I’m sorry, I really am, but I just…” He ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, holding it in as he tried to find the right words to say. After all, he hadn’t stopped caring about you, he’d just fallen in love with someone else. But what would the right words be for telling someone you’d been seeing someone else for months now? What kind of words could possibly minimize the impact of confessing you’d fucked someone over and over again until it turned into something more than just a carnal relation? There really wasn’t anything that would make this any less painful for you.

“You just?” You asked, desperation in your voice. Did these years of dating mean nothing to him? Didn’t you deserve a proper explanation at least?

“I fell in love with someone else, okay? I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to happen. We weren’t supposed to develop feelings for each other. But we did. And… And I’m not going to stay with someone I don’t love just to protect their feelings. I’m sorry y/n, but I’m putting my happiness first.”

The words hit you like a bullet straight to the heart. It ached, it stung. You found yourself overwhelmed by all these awful emotions you wished you could say you’d never felt before, when you found his lipstick stained collars, or the much silkier, longer hair you’d find on his coat, or the cheap rose scented perfume that’d stick around on his skin even as you slept together, in the same bed.

In that moment, the emotions were more than overwhelming, though. When you’d first found out about his affair, you’d describe that as overwhelming, but this? No, this was so much more than overwhelming. It was on an entirely new level.

The hurt became too much, and your legs gave in, causing you to drop on your knees, stinging mildly from the sudden and harsh contact with the floor, but you barely registered it in the moment, finding yourself trapped amidst all this shock and hurt, realization hitting you like a punch to the gut.

Apparently, you failed to realize exactly when he left the apartment too, but it’s not like that mattered since he was leaving anyway. He was going to chase his own happiness, regardless of how you felt about not being a part of it anymore.

The following days consisted of what you’d come to consider a rather comfortable routine based on sleeping, eating, pretending to watch TV while you stalked his social media, and crying.

The third day after he’d left, he posted a picture with his new lover, along with the caption “Love you forever x” and you chuckled bitterly.

He didn’t even have the decency to wait a little longer.

In all honesty, you felt humiliation. You’d been avoiding the mirror lately, well aware of how red your eyes and nose would be, and how puffy your face would be, and how evident the bags under your eyes would be. How did you let something like this happen? You didn’t want to feel like this, especially about a relationship ending, but you couldn’t help the way your heart seemed to be stuck in a permanent ache. And now, your mutual friends would learn about your break-up like this, and about the affair, too. How embarrassing.

Not even 10 minutes after the post had been made, your phone was bombarded with notifications, texts, and calls. What had happened? Did you break up? Did he cheat? Who is she? How long had it been since you broke up? Why weren’t they the first to know about this?

After a couple minutes of ongoing nagging, they finally ceased.

And an hour or so after that, a single notification made your phone’s screen light up.

“Hey. Are you home?”

It was a text from your best friend, Fuyuhiko, and even though your chest had been aching endlessly for the last week or so, a warmth suddenly enveloped your heart comfortingly, and though you couldn’t bring yourself to actually smile, internally, you did.

“Yeah.” You quickly texted back, and set the phone down on the nightstand beside your bed, getting up and quickly heading to the bathroom, knowing he’d most likely be there in a minute.

Still avoiding the mirrors, you brushed your teeth and washed your face, and just as you were finishing up with drying your face, you heard the door open and then close.

“Still got that key I gave you, I see,” You said from the bathroom, and you thought he’d at least chuckle in response, but all there was was silence.

The footsteps could be heard approaching the end of the hallway, and soon, you met Fuyuhiko’s face, painted with concern, and a small tint of that seemingly always present anger in him.

“Where is that bastard?” He asked, and you sighed, shaking your head and forcing a small smile for him to see.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Fuyuhiko, thanks for asking. I appreciate your concern,” You said sarcastically, and in a different situation, your sarcasm would’ve made him roll his eyes, but they stayed fixed on yours, determined gaze only being intensified by blonde, thick furrowing brows.

Sighing once again, this time in defeat, you walked away from him, and to your bedroom, trust falling onto your mattress, and Fuyuhiko’s gaze followed you, waiting patiently for you to respond.

“I don’t know,” You began, and his gaze softened as he walked closer until he found himself sitting on the edge of your bed, a hand resting on his lap and the other resting on the mattress for support. “He simply packed and left. Said something about putting his happiness first.” Fuyuhiko clicked his tongue and scooted closer to you, index and thumb finding a place under your chin and tilting your face slightly, making you look at him.

“Bastard knows close to fucking nothin’ if he thinks he’ll ever be happy with anyone that isn’t you. As if he could replace you with some slag,” His expression hardened and you could only try to figure out what was going on in his mind the second he looked away from you and fixed his gaze on the blank wall, little habit of his you’d found about shortly after meeting. He always did this when he was deep in thought, and knowing him, for the most part, his thoughts were no good. Especially when he looked so angry, like right now.

“I could bust the fucker’s kneecaps if you want me to, you know,” He blurted out, and you sat up immediately, eyes wide and looking into his perfectly calm and serious looking eyes, no trace of a possible joke.

“Fuyuhiko, no,” You warned him, mirroring the furrowed brows and intense gaze he had shown you before, and he returned it.

“What? Why not? He’s an asshole and the only person who’d miss him is the bitch he stuffs his cock into!” He argued, and you felt your heart ache at the statement, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes, ready to spill. “Wait, shit, I didn’t- That’s not- Fuck!” Fuyuhiko yelled, running his fingers through his hair in exasperation and looking away, his cheeks red from embarrassment.

You shook your head and took his hand in yours, showing him a small smile as tears streamed down your face. “It’s okay, Fuyuhiko, I know you didn’t mean it that way,” You explained, and the blonde felt his heart jump in his chest, not knowing if it was cause of the way you suddenly took his hand, or because of how easily you understood him, and the way he sucked at expressing himself. After all, that’s what got him falling so hard for you in the first place, and what had him so displeased when you started going out with that cheating, good for nothing, worthless bastard. He knew you were too good for him, too kind and caring and understanding, and, to him at least, it truly felt like no one realized just how good you were, and how undeserving of you they were. The only one who could notice was him, therefore making him the only one worthy of your love. He was the only one who understood how good you were, and the only one who understood exactly how much you deserved, and it certainly was a lot more than he ever gave you during the time you were together.

“I don’t want you hurting him,” You explained, and he huffed, holding back from saying anything, but still giving you a look that said he still wanted to do it. In return though, you showed him a pleading look, and he turned away.

“Fine, I guess, but I can’t promise I won’t end him if he ever tries to come near you,” He said, and you rolled your eyes.

“Good,” You said. “With that out of the way, are you busy today?” You asked, and Fuyuhiko cocked a brow, humming questioningly. “You know, since you came over… I thought we could spend the day together. Being with you never fails to cheer me up,”

Fuyuhiko smirked and crossed his arms. “Yeah, no shit. I was gonna be busy, but it’s not like it can’t wait,” He said, and you beamed at him, rapidly lunging at him and pinning him down on the bed with your weight, letting small giggles escape your lips.

Ultimately, Fuyuhiko and you spent the weekend together, and it turned out pretty great if you’re being fully honest. You can’t just lie and say that in all that time you were together there was not a single second that you didn’t feel sad or think about him, after all, that was the main reason he was spending the weekend with you, or so you thought, but as it turns out, he actually did help you cheer up, a lot more than you had initially thought he could. The blonde noticed this too. It seemed like all you needed was someone to be there with you to help keep you distracted and entertained, instead of thinking about what he could possibly be doing, or if he was thinking of you, or what you did that was so wrong that it ended up driving him away.

The little distractions Fuyuhiko kept you busy with made time fly by and sadly, the weekend was gone in the blink of an eye, and your best friend would have to go take care of whatever he had postponed to spend time with you. “Hey, cut it with that pouty shit, you look too cute for your own good,” He said with a smirk, his hand resting on the top of your head, flattening the messy hair.

“You’ll be back soon, right?” You asked, looking at him like a pleading puppy, and he chuckled softly, ruffling your hair.

“Of course I will be, I just need to take care of something real quick, and I’ll be with you again,” Your lips curled up into a small smile at his words, and you stepped forward to hug him goodbye, pecking his cheek and pulling away to walk back inside, still waving until the door was fully closed. Despite missing him already, you sighed happily. It’d been a good weekend.

And as the Ultimate Yakuza was driven back home, a certain young man awaited, tied up and blindfolded in a basement, and his lover right next to him.

The door creaked as it opened, and the couple visibly tensed up, chest puffing, back arching, and shoulders rolling back.

The blonde smirked, walking over to the wooden table in the corner of the room, with a golden phonograph patiently waiting to play. He positioned the needle over the record, and music flooded the room, invading their ears.

“What do you think of the music?” Fuyuhiko asked, perfectly knowing that your ex-boyfriend would recognize his voice.

“F-Fuyuhiko?” He asked in a shaky voice, and the blonde hummed in response. “H-hey, man, y-you know you don’t gotta do this, right? I thought you liked y/n anyways! A-a-and now, she’s all free! She’s single and you can finally make your move! Shouldn’t you be happy? There’s no need to do this!”

“I really like this song,” Fuyuhiko commented, ignoring the guy’s attempt at persuasion. “It seems to fit your situation, don’t you think?”

It was only then that the pair took the time to analyze the music, and it’s lyrics, which had just started right after Fuyuhiko’s comment.

Johnny, don’t leave me

You said you’d love me forever

Honey, believe me

I’ll have your heart on a platter

The blonde’s smirk only grew as he watched the couple start to shake and cry, and he looked at the big man standing patiently next to the door, and giving him a nod, which the man imitated in response.

The man took a sledgehammer in his hands, and dragged it against the floor, the noise provoking sobs to escape from the restrained.

“Please, please don’t-- Don’t do this, I’m begging you, I’ll--” The female’s cries were cut short by the sledgehammer slamming down on her knee, ripping a sharp cry from her throat.

Might you recall, we’ve got a small family business

And the family won’t like this

They’ll bust your kneecaps, ooh~

Fuyuhiko left the room, still able to hear the crying and screaming. Pleased with another job well done, and his hands went straight to his pockets, searching for his phone.

You heard your door open and close, and footsteps approaching your bedroom, right at the very end of the hallway, and when you turned away from the TV to the door, you saw your best friend, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, Ultimate Yakuza.

A bright smile appeared on your face, and you jumped off the bed, running to him and jumping on him, your legs wrapping around his waist, and your arms around his torso.

“I see you missed me,” He said, and you rolled your eyes, nodding.

“Come on, now, I wanna watch a movie,” You said as you got off of him, taking his hand in yours and guiding him to your bed.

“What movie?” He asked, kicking off his slippers and taking off his jacket.

You answered with a shrug and settled comfortable next to him, resting your head on his chest, his arm moving to rest over your shoulder.

“I hope I didn’t make you rush to get done whatever you had to do,” You said, looking away from the TV and up at him. He looked down and looked into your eyes, shaking his head.

“Nah, it’s fine. Don’t worry your pretty little head with things like that,” He said, and you nodded, turning your attention back to the TV.

#another songfic oops #dr2 #danganronpa #danganronpa goodbye despair #fuyuhiko x reader #fuyuhiko kuzuryu x reader #fuyuhiko kuzuryuu

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qtlibehsun · 4 years ago

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imprisonment [part one]

pairing: quackity x gn!reader [angst]

summary: your boyfriend is a criminal, you had no idea, and now he��s being thrown in prison

warnings: cursing, physical violence against reader and quackity

word count: 1.2k

a.n: hi everyone! i’m back again lol. i’ve been feeling really unmotivated lately and i haven’t been liking what i’ve been posting lately but i wanted to get something out, so here it is ig. not very good but it sets up for the next two parts. hope you like it :)

The sun was quite possibly in the worst place, you had concluded. No matter whether you crouched to tend to the crops or stand to stretch your cramping knees, it was right there. Right, fucking, there.

You audibly groaned and decided to give the carrots you were watering a break, situating yourself on a stool, as you increasingly became interested in the volume of rich soil under your fingernails.

Your thoughts were invaded with him.

When was he coming home?

Was he okay? God I miss him.

You missed his warmth, his smile, his laugh. His stupid hats.

However it had only been since this morning, when you sent him off with a chaste kiss on the cheek, him retorting with ‘that’s not a proper kiss,.’ You couldn’t help but let the heaviness in your heart from longing consume you and leave a wretchedness in your day.

You retired into the comfort of your shared cabin, the evening breeze slowly becoming too chill for your liking. You occupied yourself with chopping a collection of vegetables for a soup, whilst fantasising that he was just upstairs in your room. A noxious habit bred from detachment issues perhaps, but one that left your lover with a gleaming smile and a swell in his heart.

You were interrupted from your love hankering thoughts to the door being thrown open, cabin rattling.

You nearly squealed from excitement, he was home, but you kept your cool and focused on the task at hand.

Cutting those carrots paysanne style.

Two slender arms wrapped around your middle; a gathering of kisses being placed against your neck.

“Hey, my love,” he had mumbled, voice croaky with exhaustion.

“Hey Alex.” You turned to place your lips against his, the butterflies that erupted never ceasing to fade, only persistently growing with each new time your lips met.

He bounced on the balls of his feet, bringing you with him. “What are we chowing on tonight?”

“Just soup. I could barely get any work done in the garden today. My mind was just so preoccupied with things. Had me zoning out without even realising.” A laugh rumbled against your back, Alex nuzzling his nose into the corner where your neck met your shoulder.

“It’s because you missed my handsome face, isn’t it?”

“No way!” Yes way.

It took you longer to wipe down the table after dinner concluded then it did to cook the actual meal. Alex insisting that he held your hand during the entirety of your meal never got old, but it did make it increasingly difficult to eat with one hand.

After blowing out the candle, you slid into your shared bed, the pastel-yellow winged man instantaneously taking position as big spoon. You wished him goodnight, as he responded with a ‘goodnight mi vida.’

And just like that your consciousness had slipped from you, chest blooming with love and admiration for the man placed behind you.

It was almost terrifying, to the two of you. Just how in love you were with each other. Your world was in the palm of his hands, one inch of movement or pressure, and destruction could occur. However, the intense brown of his eyes, and the sparkle they held, was worth the risk of any merciless, bad phenomenon happening two your relationship.

However, you were not prepared for this.

No. Nothing could prepare you for what was about to happen.

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

Alex awoke to your scream.

Your bloodcurdling scream of pain followed by a smash that sounded like glass.

Springing out of bed, clothes dishevelled and not even stopping to put a hat on his head, he bounded for the stairs, adrenalin pumping in his head, making him dizzy from fear.

What had got to you? Who found you?

He jumped the last few stairs and was immediately met with two masked men, standing over your crumpled body on the floor, blood gushing from a new wound settled in your hairline.

Swathed with rage Alex stormed over and punched one of the men in the face. Nonetheless both individuals were considerably taller than him, taking him to the ground, hands behind his back.

“Hey what’re you doing with them?” Keep your fucking hands off the-,”

A sharp searing pain in his cheek, a split in the skin from a now blood coated ring caused his sentence to stop.

Alex went to wriggle out of their grasp, to escape and bring you into his arms. To wipe away the tears away and hold you forever. Whisper to you how he would never ever let anything, or anybody hurt you again.

Oh, how those words would do nothing.

“Beat him till he loses conscious,” A man with a low, monotone voice ordered.

“Wait no!” You had screamed but it was futile.

Blow after blow had Alex grunting and groaning in pain. Black particles had started to swarm his vision but all he could think about was you.

Please don’t hurt them. Leave them alone. They did nothing. You want me. Me. Not Them. Leave them please, I love them.

“Fucking hell it’s not working, just break his fucking wings.” White hot searing pain erupted from the two wings on his back. He screeched and cried with every twist and crack he felt in them.

“God please no stop! I’m sorry please! Fucking fuckers please god get the fuck off me.” He swung and wriggled through every last ounce of strength he had, but it wasn’t enough. The darkness slowly began to engulf him, his limbs heavy, and with one last whisper of your name he slipped into the abyss.

Please let them be okay. I’ll do anything. Please.

You felt like your voice was going to give out. The pain settling at the top of your forehead turned into a dull ache from the over-bearing agony you felt emotionally as you saw your lover. So tranquil on the floor, eyelids shut, his back rising with unsteady breaths. Two daffodil wings bent at uneven angles, feathers hanging by string to the bone, scattered on the floor.

“What did he do? Why did you do that?”

The taller of the two turned to you, fists caked with your boyfriend’s blood.

“Quackity will be thrown in prison at dawn tomorrow for the crimes he has committed against this land.”

A lump lurched in your throat. He hadn’t done anything. Had he?

The man picked up on your confused state and barely answered your unspoken question.

“Your boyfriend here has been caught with a multitude of delinquencies that will serve him a life in jail.”

“Like what?” You had snapped.

“Drug dealing. Identity theft. Attempted murder.”

Had that been why he never brought you into town with him? He was a criminal.

Sensing your steps towards Alex the two men picked him up and shoved you back onto the floor.

“If you have half a brain you’ll stay here. We’ll deal from him from now on.”

And with that you let them take him away, the door slamming like it had later last night when he come home.

And as the dawns sun peaked through the slightly ajar curtains you whispered under your breath.

I’ll see you again, my love.

#mcyt #mcyt quackity #quackity #quackityhq #mcyt quackityhq #quackity x reader #quackityxreader #quackityhq x reader #quackityhqxreader #quackity imagine #quackityhq imagine #quackity scenario #quackityhq scenario #quackity angst #mcyt angst

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valkyrieelysia18 · 4 years ago

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RWBY Rewrite: The Jaundice Arc

Hey there everybody! Sorry it’s been awhile since you’ve heard from me, but I’ve got a job now and less of writing drive than I had when I was high school/college. Doesn’t mean it’s completely gone though and now I’m going to tackle the point that people started to really have problems with RWBY: the Jaundice Arc.

I know, big guns, but frankly I wanted to get this one. Partially because I want to do Jaune’s post eventually and I feel like I need to do this one before I can do that one, and partially because like I said before: this point where people really started to have problems with the show. And more specifically, this when people REALLY start to dislike Jaune.

Now, I’ve touched on my feelings on him before, but let me get this all out and over with. I don’t hate Jaune and I don’t think he’s an inherently bad character. Almost everyone on this show has been written badly and I think the absolutely simmering undercurrents that some parts of the RWDE community have for him is perhaps a little over the top. Personally, I think the core idea of his character is pretty good and he’s at his best in my opinion when he’s playing support to the other characters.

That being said, I completely understand why people dislike him. He has been constantly given focus away from the main team, which started in Volume 1 which was already short as it was to devote about a quarter of your episodes to a non main character in your first season. He also doesn’t suffer nearly as much for the consequences of his actions while the female characters get constant crap for theirs. I’m not even going to go into the Miles Luna Author Self Insert thing.

After having read fan fiction and seen some rewrite scenarios on Youtube, I personally think that Jaune can be written well so long as he’s not being written by Miles and Kerry. With that, I’m ready to take my crack at it.

Setup

As I said, Jaune took massive screen time away from the main characters since early on in the series. There’s an easy way to fix this. As I stated in an earlier post, I was going to spend the first volume/season focusing on Team RWBY aside from a small potential team up with Team JNPR. Jaune, and his other teammates, would mainly be relegated to comedy and background support for the main four girls after the Initiation. I’d throw in a few hints of what’s to come with them, but that’s it. Thus, I’d actually put the Jaundice Arc in the second volume/season which would be significantly larger than the first.

Because we’d be doing it then, we’d have bit more buildup for this story. Cardin’s bullying and enmity towards Jaune would be set up in the prior volume/season’s class interactions. As I noted in my School Rewrite, Jaune’s strategic abilities would also be showcased early on as well as Cardin’s tendency to go head on and brutal without realizing potential problems with that approach. Jaune’s relationship with Pyrrha and the rest of his team would also be better set up.

Now that the board is set, let’s get to it.

Student Days

The first thing I would absolutely change is making it clear that Jaune is actually trying. That was the thing that really did irk me with how Miles and Kerry wrote this arc, despite having gone through the effort of cheating his way into a huntsman academy, he then proceeds to goof off and put absolutely no effort into it. So, before and during this arc, it’ll be clearly shown he’s been studying like crazy and putting in extra time into the fighting simulations that are available for students. He’s not failing in terms of his regular studies, but he’s not top of the class either. In terms of physical combat, he’s the worst in his year, but he’s exceptional in Strategy and Tactics. This I think would be a good and reasonable place for Jaune starting out given his character and background prior to the series.

Thing is, this pisses Cardin off. He sees how much of a weakling Jaune is as a fighter and can see that he is so out of place at Beacon. Despite this, he’s paired with arguably the strongest person in their class who hangs on his every word and has (unintentionally) been showing him up as a leader during Strategy and Tactics. He knows something is off with Jaune, leading him to spy on him to figure out what’s up.

I wouldn’t change that much with him and Pyrrha’s interaction on the roof, I already briefed the reason why Pyrrha trusts him as a leader in her rewrite post. Maybe throw in a hint that his father really didn’t want Jaune to become a huntsman, but I’ll get into that when I get into his backstory proper.

I also wouldn’t change that much revolving in his talk with Cardin straight after save for one thing. After Jaune is left alone with his thoughts on this situation his lies have gotten him into, the scene shifts to being shown on a screen, making it clear that this is being watched from a camera on the roof. A finger taps on the screen a few times and we hear a familiar pensive hum.

The fall out with his team and his one on one with Ruby isn’t really changed, aside from Ren and Nora being more vocally concerned about Jaune’s actions and Pyrrha’s frosty change in behavior which the latter shoots down the concerns sharply.

Forever Falls/Aftermath

I don’t think I’ll change that much regarding the trip itself. I was thinking of mentioning the reason the teams are there is because this is their group task for the month (gathering sap for Professor Peach, who would actually be here taking originally Glynda’s place) and that’s why it’s only these three teams here. Same overall events occur: CRDL tries to get Pyrrha, Jaune stands up to Cardin, Grimm take down with Pyrrha’s unknown aid.

Jaune does apologize to Pyrrha like in the original and ask to train him. Though I was thinking that he’d get something a bit more painful than just a hard shove. I was thinking she’d take his hand and tackle him to the ground hard while pointing out his weaknesses.

This will cut to Ozpin’s office, with Cardin finishing up with telling his version of events who is obviously very agitated from the day’s events. In this Rewrite, there is no reason why he wouldn’t just tell on Jaune. Ozpin merely takes it all in with pensive expression before asking about the light that seemed to protect Jaune. Cardin answers this with confusion and some surprise, Ozpin nodding with a “Good to know” before updating a file on his tablet. Cardin is even more confused and asks what the Headmaster is going to do about Jaune. His answer: Nothing.

Cardin is shocked and furious at the Headmaster, going into him a bit before threatening to go to the board with this. Ozpin responds that even if he did so, he wouldn’t have a case. Cardin is completely confused as Ozpin explains: When students apply for Beacon, their applications go through extensive background checks before there are selections for the second round (ie the Entrance Exam). Such fake transcripts would have been discovered around that time.....had they actually gone through the admissions board. As it was, Jaune’s was accepted through an alternative.

But honestly, that’s not to say the admissions board is completely infallible, Ozpin would muse. Some are very inclined to promote those connected to them, others are interested in advancing their career elsewhere,.....and some might be inclined to take money from very influential people, such as a well meaning Uncle whose Council seat is up for reelection soon. Cardin gets noticeably stiff at that last one. Then Ozpin bring up some videos to the screen, all of them showing Cardin and his team bullying others, particularly Faunus students. The headmaster then would muse aloud that he wonder how Councilman Winchester, or moreso his Faunus opponent, would react to such un-Huntsman like behavior getting out into the news. Cardin immediately gets what the headmaster wants and goes completely quiet. Ozpin would merely say that he is a big believer in second chances and that while he understands that shenanigans in such as a school as this is to expected, Cardin would do best to remember that even if he thinks no one is watching he should act like there is. This cuts the meeting to a close with Cardin leaving quietly and Oz going back to his tablet, clicking back to a file with Jaune’s symbol on in it amongst others files with symbols on them. Only Jaune’s is a different color than the others and a scroll up would show us only one other file with that same color: Ruby’s.

Okay, it feels like I spent a lot of this post musing on the Cardin and Ozpin scene (really I could have done a oneshot on it), but this really was an important scene to establish some very important things to this Rewrite.

1. Ozpin is not an idiot. Ozpin is shown to be very aware of what’s going on at his school. While he may not get directly involved with things, he is shown to be watching his students. And while he is shown to be merciful in giving Cardin a second chance after the crap he pulled, he is also shown to not be a pushover. With such vigilance showcased, it will the Fall of Beacon even more devastating in how Ozpin missed his enemies working under his nose.

2. Ozpin’s true nature and goals are thrown into question. This rewrite is going to be more morally gray, especially in regards to Ozpin. Not only has he blackmailed a student to keep it quiet about another student, he knowingly let someone into his school he knew wasn’t qualified. In this rewrite up until this point he would have been shown as a distant but well intentioned headmaster. Now, he’s just gotten plenty shady. It would also bring into question Ruby’s enrollment into Beacon given that she got in in the same way (also strengthening those two’s parallels, but I digress).

3. Makes us question why Ozpin let Jaune in and sets up that Jaune is important in some way. As noted in my musings in a previous post, it makes no sense for Jaune to have gotten into Beacon unless Ozpin saw his transcripts and accepted him on that alone. Since we are shown in this scene Ozpin is aware of the transcripts, it makes us question what did he accept Jaune for. This also sets up that he will be important to the story moving forward, and not just as the revenge driven not ex boyfriend of the girl who tragically died.

Now, why did Ozpin accept him? Well, that will be covered in his own character post. I think this is plenty long enough and I think I will do something different before I get back to these Rewrite post. I hope like this one more than the last.

See you all! And stay save in this Covid time!

#rwby rewrite #Jaune Arc #pyrrha nikos #cardin winchester #rwde #team jnpr #professor ozpin

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maeve-of-winter · 4 years ago

Note

I stopped reading omgcp a while ago, but Kent was always my favorite. Can you tell me what the update about him was? I don't want to slog through the rest of it to find it.

Sorry it took so long to respond to this anon, but I really appreciate the ask. I’m going to give a summary of what actually happens in canon in Kent’s ending, and then a short breakdown of why I dislike it.

This turned into a lengthy post and a collection of what I’m sure is only a fraction of the retcons surrounding Kent’s character, so I apologize for that.

If there’s one takeaway to understand from this ending, it’s that this ending really isn’t about Kent or for Kent’s fans, and I’ll explain below.

The canon ending:

—Bitty is taking out the trash at the Haus one night after a kegster when Kent unexpectedly pops up, dressed like every one-off drug addict character ever seen on any crime drama ever. He says he didn’t know how to contact Bitty (I guess Bitty’s Twitter and Facebook must still be on lockdown at this point? Can anyone confirm?), hence why he appears out of the blue. He says he wants to talk.

Note: Kent mentions here that he’s been getting kegster invites from Ransom for years now. It’s unclear why he didn’t try to contact Ransom to get Bitty’s contact info, but that’s really just a nitpick.

—Kent says he wants to wish Bitty good luck in the playoffs (which I guess he’s been following?) and to wish him good luck with Jack. Bitty responds by inviting him in for pie.

—Kent proceeds to try Bitty’s pie and gush about it at length, like every character in the comic has at this point. Actual quote: “Oh my God. Oh my fucking God. This is. Wow. Jesus. Thank you.”

—Kent mentions again he really does want to wish Bitty good luck, and then mentions Jack and wanting to tell him something.

—Bitty asks if Kent would apologize to Jack. Kent seems surprised and says no, but then he says maybe. He brings up the last time they talked, and specifically points out the last time he and Jack spoke and comments, “Not like I said anything terrible.”

—Bitty informs Kent that he was there and confronts Kent about how he treated Jack. At this point, there’s yet another retcon, this time more subtle, about what Kent said.

4.19 version:

Parse Part III (2.09) version:

Note: No mention is made in 4.19 about anything the could be interpreted positively or sympathetically about Kent’s conversation with Jack, including his offer to Jack about freeing up cap space on the Aces so that Jack can be a part of the team [basically that means trading away current Aces players to make room for Jack’s salary], telling Jack repeatedly that he misses him, expressing frustration that Jack shut him out, or telling Jack that he and others still care about him even if Jack thinks of himself as worthless. More on that last part here.

—Kent looks defeated and responds that there was no excuse for what he said, and follows up by saying he’s sorry that Bitty had to hear what he said and also expresses that he’s sorry for saying it at all.

—In the next part, Kent explains his thoughts. Actual quote: “When Jack left hockey, it sucked. And...yeah, he shut me out of his life. But he was taking care of himself. The shit I was doing at eighteen, as a rookie, in the league...wasn't good for him. And if he thinks he owes me an apology for that, he doesn't. I made it about me. But at this point, trying to say all that to him, yeah, that'd still be more for me than for him, you know? He's way, way past...Zimms has done so much for himself...It might sound weird, but I'm proud of Zimms. Even though I was shit to him. I'm proud he's moved on in a big way. He's a great player and Jesus....I'm twenty-six and our shit was forever ago."

Note: Kent unequivocally stating that Jack doesn’t owe him any apologies is a direct narrative retcon of this panel from 2.10.

Second note: Many fans speculated Jack completely cut off all contact with Kent after his overdose when Kent went ahead into the NHL as Jack took time to recover. Kent’s statement in 4.19 is explicit canon confirmation.

—Bitty responds that they were both kids at the time. Kent dismisses that notion in regard to himself. Actual quote: “"Yeah, but Jack grew up. And seeing you guys together? That center ice kiss? Holding the cup? Listen, when I said I came here to tell you good luck, I meant it. That's why I came here, because the more things work out for you, being out and stuff...you know? The more things could work out for everyone else. You guys are doing good stuff. So thank you for that."

—Kent follows this up by effusively complimenting Bitty’s pie again and telling him he should open a bakery.

—Kent goes to leave and finds Scraps (the one other named Aces player besides Carl) hanging out with Ford and Tango. Scraps was helping them both clean up. It’s unclear if Kent is actually out to Scraps at this point.

—Kent thanks Bitty for the pie again, wishes him luck, and then leaves.

—Also, as an extra, Ngozi responded to an ask about “What’s Kent been up to?” with another drawing of Kent with Bitty’s pie and paying thousands of dollars for it because he loves it so much.

Link here.

My thoughts:

1. It’s been said before, but this scene taking place between Kent and Bitty is utterly bizarre. These two characters have no history together to make this conversation compelling or meaningful. They’ve never even spoken a word to each other on page before. Additionally, Kent is a closeted NHL player whose career could be destroyed with this information, and so he’s used to keeping his emotions in check. His decision to have this conversation with a stranger at all severely stretches the willing suspension of disbelief and makes it clear that this conversation isn’t occurring because it’s a natural decision for the characters, but for narrative convenience.

And when you factor in the part about Kent being Jack’s ex-boyfriend who was seemingly in love with him for years after their relationship ended painfully for them both, and that he’s having this heart-to-heart with Jack’s new boyfriend, it shatters the willing suspension of disbelief into a million tiny pieces. Why would Kent want to talk about his baggage with Jack to Jack’s new BF who he’s never spoken to before? There’s no real reason for it. It only happens because Ngozi wanted to have Kent apologize to Bitty regardless of how weird or illogical the scenario for them to talk. And so that’s what happens, even if it’s utterly absurd.

2. This ending really goes out of its way to paint Kent in a negative light as possible while still having Bitty be the righteous but charitable arbitrator of what’s Good and Decent behavior.

Notice that Bitty offers up an excuse for Kent’s behavior: “Y’all were kids.”

But the narrative makes it clear that the audience is not meant to excuse Kent’s behavior, as Kent then rejects that excuse and shoulders responsibility: “Yeah, but Jack grew up.” (Implying here that Kent did not.) “And seeing you guys together? That center ice kiss, holding the Cup? . . . Listen, when I said I came here to tell you good luck, I meant it. Because the more things work out for you, being out and stuff . . . you know? The more things could work out for everyone else. So thank you for that.”

And I know that as an audience, we’re meant to nod our heads in agreement with Kent and be like, “Yes, what he said was beyond the pale, good for him for admitting it, and good for him for admitting that it was perfectly fine for Jack to spend years refusing all contact with him.” But I’m definitely not nodding in agreement, and the narrative’s refusal to allow this justification really bothers me, because Bitty is right: they were kids. Jack and Kent were kids of the same age and in almost identical situations. So why is it that Jack gets a free pass for his bad decisions while Kent doesn’t?

The answer is, of course, to pacify the section of fandom that really, really wanted to see Kent come crawling back and beg for forgiveness or “get called out”, but that really isn’t any kind of satisfying answer within the story itself.

Simply put, everything about the situation and the dialogue goes to great lengths to paint Kent as the one in the wrong who’s now doing the right thing at long last by shouldering responsibility, all while simultaneously playing down any culpability Jack might hold for the tensions between the two of them. It is the “Kent Was Wrong” show, and it’s being aired because a certain portion of the fanbase thinks that Kent is villain who needs to repent for all of all of the terrible crimes against Jack and Bitty that he has committed, while Jack is an innocent smol bean who has never done anything wrong in his life.

From 1.05.

However, I will point out that while the 4.19 accomplishes that specific goal, it also fails in the area of character development. Because the narrative works so hard to make it known that Jack is completely blameless, Kent, a minor character whose appearance here in 4.19 marks only the fourth time he appears in canon proper, ultimately winds up growing more as a person than Jack. As much as I dislike his ending, Kent is someone who can admit when he’s done wrong and apologize for it. Jack, to date, has never apologized for how he treated Bitty during the latter’s freshman years. At the end of the day, Kent’s refusal to accept any excuses for his behavior, even the ones that are reasonable and justified, paints him as a more mature individual than Jack.

3. It’s impossible to ignore the equivalency of Jack and Bitty publicly kissing and coming out with “growing up” and implying that Kent’s decision to remain closeted is therefore immature. This bugs me for several reasons, which I’ll explain below.

The NHL is a highly homophobic environment, as is juniors hockey, where Kent and Jack met and became romantically involved. There’s recently been a lot of discussion on these points from former NHL players Akim Aliu and Dan Carcillo. Conformity is perceived as commitment to the team, and being different or even showing off too much is frowned upon and criticized. RL NHL players like Alex Ovechkin have been criticized for celebrating too much after scoring a goal, and just to show you how extreme it can get, player PK Subban faced ongoing tensions within his then-team the Canadiens because he opted to start his own personal charity for the Montreal Children’s Hospital rather than use the team’s established program. The incident is actually speculated to be a factor in the reasons for his trade to Nashville. That’s right; conformity is so valued that players are criticized for giving to charity the wrong way.

So, yes, Kent’s growth is very likely to be stunted because he’s coping in such a highly pressurized homophobic environment, dealing with at least one homophobic teammate. Yes, he has chosen his environment insofar as joining and continuing with the NHL, but he didn’t specifically chose its homophobic and toxic culture. And it’s worth mentioning that he’s being contrasted with Jack, a character who took several years off from hockey following a drug overdose, attended an LGBTQ-friendly liberal arts school for four years where he could find himself and grow comfortable with his sexuality and build a strong support network, and then landed on an NHL team where every member was miraculously accepting and not homophobic.

Of course Kent is going to look immature in comparison to Jack if you compare them that way. Kent has been locked into a culture of toxic masculinity and homophobia since he was a teenager and forced to be closeted so he could have a career. And why should he have thought differently? He was being exposed to homophobia on his team, which would have cemented his fears of not belonging in hockey or having a place on his team if he came out as gay.

Meanwhile, with every Falc unfailingly supportive of Jack and Bitty, Jack really had nothing to fear. Honestly, from the way the story develops, it seems as though Bitty’s life was made more difficult by their post-Cup kiss, rather than Jack, who is the celebrity athlete, and, according to canon, the first gay athlete in the history of pro sports.

So while Kent (and canon) might continually praise Jack for growing up and coming out, Jack had far more time to become comfortable with himself and the idea of being openly gay, given that he’s had Samwell as a safe haven for years and multiple close friends he trusts. Kent hasn’t had either of those things. Of course he’s not ready to come out like Jack and Bitty—after all, he’s not out, and he ends up having to listen to Carl’s mockery of queer individuals. And yet, canon would have us think that this decision means he’s not “grown up” like Jack is. So Kent essentially ends up being implied to be immature for . . . being afraid of the homophobia that he already experiences.

From 3.16.

Also, I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again: it’s never sat quite right with me that Jack and Bitty both gets teams that are unfailingly supportive of their sexualities and relationship, while Kent isn’t even out as gay but is stuck dealing with open homphobia from a teammate and has no known support system. Almost as if canon is okay with protecting its main gay couple from homophobia while pushing the struggle against homophobia onto a gay minor character, all while proceeding to put the main couple on a pedestal for “growing up”. I don’t care if Ngozi told us not to worry about it; it really annoys me that no one on the Falcs or SMH is homophobic, but at least one person on the Aces is, and we’re supposed to be okay with it. After all, Ngozi herself told us: “Okay, first of all, ignore Carl”, as if homophobia is something that queer people can totally dismiss and forget about.

Link here.

So, as far as the OMGCP narrative is concerned, homophobia is meant to be something that’s should be easily shrugged off and ignored, and being afraid of it and unwilling to deal with it means that you’re immature and not ready to “grow up” in the way that openly gay individuals have already chosen to.

4. The implication that Kent was wrong to be bitter or upset about Jack cutting him off.

This is a fairly simple one, and one where the characterization does an exceptional job at refusing to admit normal behavior. It is perfectly fine for Kent to be upset and hurt that Jack ghosted him. Canon has him accepting all of the blame and saying that he was wrong to not want to let Jack go, but let’s examine the scenario.

You’re dating a guy for several months and then he abruptly overdoses in a deliberate suicide attempt right before the jump-start to both your futures. You’re forced to abruptly move away to begin your new life without any real closure from the incident, so you’re left hurt and traumatized and wondering if you could have done anything to stop him. You try to reach out to him so you can heal, only for every attempt to be rejected. This behavior and your attempts continue for years. Now, even if you decide to move on, are you going to think fondly of this guy going forward? Or are you going to be hurt and confused and questioning your entire relationship and what you could have done differently whenever you think back about him?

Jack did not overdose in a vacuum. This is not an incident that had zero effect on Kent. And yet, canon seems to want us to think that this highly emotional and traumatic event should have washed right over Kent and that he chose to bear a grudge against Jack due to, like, petty vindictiveness or something. When the real issue is that Jack deliberately refused to give Kent any closure over the incident. And if that’s the case, if Jack is just refusing to speak to Kent over and over, why shouldn’t Kent feel bitterness towards him? Maybe Kent honestly wants to give Jack up and get over him, but needs this resolution to move on, and can’t get anywhere without it. Maybe he’s still hurting from watching Jack almost die. Whatever the reason, Kent being upset with Jack is only human.

5. Finally, the complete lack of acknowledgement from Bitty or Kent regarding Kent’s individual accomplishments. It’s less obvious than the rest of what’s on page, but I find that this omission speaks the most strongly out of everything that this ending is written by someone who doesn’t really like Kent, specifically for people who don’t like Kent.

Kent was introduced with a multitude of accomplishments. Thirty-one game point streak, one of the best players in the sport, a recent hat trick (three goals) during a game, which earns him congratulations from Holster for it. And he’s not arrogant about his accomplishments—Shitty refers to him as a “modest bro”. Additionally, even though Kent is only at the Haus to see Jack, he still takes the time to take pictures with various Samwell hockey team members.

From 2.08

From Notes on 2.08.

But glaringly, none of these positive qualities are found here. Instead, all Kent does is compliment Jack on growing up, compliment Bitty on his pie, wish them both luck, and apologize to Bitty (for his treatment of Jack). There’s no mention of what’s going on in Kent’s life, no compliments about his hockey or mentions of any recent milestones he’s reached. There’s no exchange of praise between him and Bitty, even though there easily could. Just as an example, one of the many lines where Kent is gushing over Bitty’s pie could have easily led to a response from Bitty congratulating Kent for reaching the five hundredth goal of his career or something similar.

Or Bitty could have wished him luck at his next game—maybe the Aces are up against their division rivals, maybe they’re up against the top team of another conference. But there’s no mention of anything that has to do with Kent’s present or future, and that’s because this ending really isn’t about Kent or for Kent’s fans. It’s written for Jack/Bitty fans who think Kent is mean or abusive and really wanted this scene of Kent groveling to Jack and/or Bitty. Why else would Jack be absolved of all responsibility for treating Kent badly for years while Kent is left shouldering the blame?

Kent might appear in this chapter, but what we get isn’t actually Kent. This appearance is Kent being used as a device to state information to the audience instead of using interesting and emotional storytelling. We are being told via Kent yet again how Jack is a flawless cinnamon roll, that Jack is oh-so-noble, that Jack and Bitty are brave, that Jack and Bitty are special, and that Bitty’s pies are unnaturally wonderful. And that’s nothing we haven’t seen before.

We ostensibly got an ending for Kent Parson in this chapter. It was just an ending written with a certain audience in mind, and that audience wasn’t people who actually like the character or wanted better for him.

#kent parson #Anonymous #my asks #parse positive #omgcheckpleasecritical #check please #kent parson ending

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se-ono-waise-ilia · 4 years ago

Text

Hinata’s New Toy Chapter 2

Summary: Kiba has some new thoughts about his beloved kunoichi after her breakup with Naruto. Hinata has new thoughts about Kiba too. Mature & smutty content, NSFW.

Read chapter 1 here on fanfiction.net

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto

----

Incessant knocking sounds startled Hinata as she lifted her head from her pillow. The need to squint her eyes indicated it was a sunny day, and the pounding of her head indicated she was extremely hung over. Reaching for her clock, she noticed it was 7am, Who on earth could that be?

Lifting her fingers to perform byukugan, she felt a wave of pain that went straight to her forehead, I suppose this is what peep holes are for.

Bracing her hands on the bed to push herself up, she noticed her beloved new toy was still there. Unwashed. The almost always appropriate heiress crinkled her nose in shame at the white crusty bits clinging to the silicone.

The awful sound of her door being beaten continued. The person behind it did not demonstrate the common courtesy of announcing oneself. Thinking it best to not clearly indicate she was home, she silenced the groans of discomfort she yearned to make, and tip toed to the door.

"Open the door, Hyuga. I'm here on behalf of Naruto."

It was Uchiha Sasuke.

Hinata thought ill of very few people, but the one person she could say that she truly wanted to call crude and inappropriate names was Uchiha Sasuke. She never liked the way he looked down at others as a child, and envied how easy most skills came to him. After he joined Team 7, she was concerned about the way he treated Naruto, and jealous that he soaked up all her crush's attention.

Now she understood that the intense relationship between them was just a precursor to, well, their current relationship.

Then of course he betrayed the village, joined a terrorist organization, then reconnected with Naruto and was announced "good" again, but went traveling, and then came back to steal her boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend, she was still correcting herself.

"Hinata," was the only explanation she got through the door.

Fortunately, there was a mirror by the door that told Hinata to re-do her bun, which she quickly did as the admittedly afraid kunoichi opened the door to the ex-terrorist/ boyfriend thief, "Uchiha-s-s-san."

Oh, how she hated how meek her voice was when she felt insecure.

The blast of cold wintery air was warmer than his presence. He look extremely inconvenienced, "Naruto said I need to apologize to you."

Hinata couldn't decipher if it was the pounding hangover headache or the audacity of this entitled man that had her internally fuming, Apologize?! For telling me to "get out" so rudely when I arrived to see Naruto. Or stealing him from me. Although, it's not like Naruto was completely innocent. He LET you act that way and it only took him over a week to decide something should be done about it. Where's Naruto then?! He's the one who was complicit in your rudeness and didn't respond to my break-up note in any way, shape or form. As if us breaking up was nothing worth discussing. Why isn't he here now, apologizing alongside you. The fucking nerve!

Alas, Hinata didn't say any of these rational thoughts. All she could muster was a simple, "Oh."

The 25-year-old wasn't one to say what she really thought regarding uncomfortable and negative situations. Avoiding personal confrontations was a key part of her social strategies (work related confrontations were another matter, the structure of the ninja work culture made her feel more comfortable voicing her opinions). And when involved in a social confrontation of the harsh sort, her strategy was to say or do anything to deescalate the problem at hand to make the entire confrontation go away as quickly as possible, even at her own expense.

So no, she regrettably did not demand answers regarding Naruto's absence in this matter, nor did she call Uchiha Sasuke the asshole that he was, is, and will forever be.

He seemed irritated at the awkward silence that he likely thought was her fault. Hinata tried to inhale the heavy lavender scent that always permeated her apartment, but was startled to find her apartment had many other contrasting smells to it that weren't entirely calming.

Memories of last night flooded her hurting head. Feelings of embarrassment, shame, and anxiety went straight to her nervous system.

Sasuke must have notice her nose twitch amongst her other symptoms of freaking out. He sniffed, and looked repulsed, "Your apartment smells like lavender, female genitals, and dog."

The blushing nin couldn't help but nod her head in a shocked, mortified daze. She wanted to breathe heavily (three count inhale, six count exhale), but Uchiha was right. Her usually spa-like apartment did smell like ... those things. The lavender and dog notes actually weren't new. But the middle part, how embarrassing!

Scrambling her known social strategies for a way to deescalate, she chose to change the conversation to focus on someone else, "N-naruto's place smells like stale ramen and sweaty men's clothing."

It wasn't intended to be a dig, but Hinata found herself proud that it came out with that tone.

For her efforts, she was gifted the response of an agreeable scoff.

To keep this remarkably successful change in conversation going, "It's worse when he makes clones. That one time he did sexy no jutsu in the apartment, it was overwhelming."

It came out so fast she didn't even stutter. It also came out so fast, it took her a moment to realize what she had implied. With significant terror, she looked into Sasuke's eyes to see accusatory confusion, "Explain," he demanded.

Vigorously shaking her poor hungover head, "I-I-I should air out the ap-p-partment and put on proper c-c-clothes."

Suddenly, one specific memory from last night came to the forefront of her mind. She squeaked with an even higher level of mortification as she patted her shorts, No underwear, oh no, "Kiba!" she squeaked and started to fan herself as a hot flush of embarrassment took over.

She was sure Sasuke was still looking at her with unnecessary critique, but no longer cared. The fact that she gave Kiba not just her panties, but her worn post-vibrator panties, with the implicit specific purpose of him smelling them while he...

Hinata leaned against the doorframe as she started rubbing the spot in her hand that was an anxiety reducing pressure point.

"If I get Inuzuka, will you convey to Naruto I apologized... and will you explain the sexy no jutsu incident?"

She found herself staring into his mismatched eyes, blinking in confusion. He nodded, then teleported away.

What just happened? Did he leave? Or is he going to get ... oh no!

Slamming the door in a panic, she used chakra enhanced speed to open all the windows in her apartment, put all used laundry into a basket with a blanket covered over it as at least some form of scent containment, sprayed an obscene amount of perfume on it (peony scented), put the still unwashed vibrator and lube into her nightstand drawer, and rushed into a shockingly cold shower with her toothbrush. Not knowing if she'd have enough time to wash her hair, she left it up as she hastily brushed her teeth sans paste, and scrubbed herself raw with lavender & vanilla scented soap.

The aggressive knocking at her door minutes later startled her, resulting in her hair getting an unplanned rinse, Maybe it's just Sasuke. He'll have to wait at the door.

"Hinata!" shouted a voice that was absolutely not Sasuke's, "Are you OK?! This asshole pulled me out of bed and said you needed me. I'm coming in!"

Informing Kiba of of the location of the emergency key was now a deeply regrettable decision.

Hinata managed to hastily throw on her luckily modest bathrobe before Kiba burst through the door. Then the bathroom door. Only garbed in pants.

He sniffed her, gave her a quick body scan, turned off the shower, then grabbed her cheeks with his warm hands to aim her face up towards his, "Are you OK?"

Even though her cheeks were already flushed with the exertion of prepping her apartment and the cold from both the open windows and the freezing shower, Hinata knew she was likely turning a strange mix of blue and beet red, Kiba cares about me and he's so handsome.

These observations weren't new to Hinata. Kiba has always cared for her safety, and he was objectively a ruggedly handsome man with an intentional curation of impressive muscles. But since last night, Hinata all of a sudden felt attraction to these qualities.

"Hinata-chan?" Kiba asked again, rubbing her loose wet tresses out of her face with his gentle fingers.

Gulping, she managed to nod. Her shirtless friend let out a sigh of relief as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, He was actually worried something had happened to me. It was just a misunderstanding. I'm sorry you felt scared on my behalf, Kiba.

She felt herself sink into his warm and dry body, feeling the dusting of chest hair tickle her cheek.

"Our deal?" Sasuke interrupted their moment. Hinata truly hated that man. As much as she loved that this weird situation brought Kiba to hold her, the poor nin had to run through the cold without shoes nor a top in fear that something was wrong.

I never agreed to any deal with you, you presumptuous rude man. You never even actually apologized. And I have no desire to discuss your sex life now or ever. I hope Naruto spills boiling hot ramen on you. A whole bowl, she mentally insulted him with all her might.

Alas, she kept it all inside. A growl vibrated from Kiba's chest as he tightened his grip on Hinata. Honestly, the flushed girl was more than happy to allow Kiba to demonstrate anger and resentment on her behalf, as he often did, "What the actual fuck, Uchiha?"

Hinata also appreciated that while she had extensive internal private thoughts describing her more negative expressions, Kiba was able to edit it down into concise and direct phrases.

"Tch," the awful man emoted, "Naruto sent me here to apologize-"

"And did you?!"

Sasuke paused, then directed his eyes to Hinata, "I apologize."

Kiba rolled his eyes, "Asshole."

Hinata couldn't help but nod in agreement against Kiba's delightfully firm pecs.

"Hinata, please explain the other part now."

"What's this fucking deal?" Kiba barked at him, tightening his hold on her. Possibly in a protective manner, or affectionate. Or both. Either way, Hinata was in heaven being held by a shirtless Kiba who was also talking back to the scariest ninja in the world without a hint of fear.

Sasuke narrowed his mismatched eyes, "She accepts my apology and gives me information, in return she indicated a need for you."

"Me?" was the detail he prioritized. Burying her head into his chest seemed like the best response. Her hands may or may not have found a comfortable resting position on his obliques.

"I have places to be, Hyuga," it sounded like Sasuke was gritting his teeth in annoyance. In Kiba's arms, she felt safe ignoring him.

Kiba growled during most conversations, but he was particularly consistent in this one, "No, she does not accept your apology. Not like yours matters to her anyway. Naruto's the negligent ex-boyfriend who didn't appreciate her, and let his new boyfriend toss her to the curb on his behalf. Fuck you, Uchiha. Go deep throat Hinata's ex."

Kami, did Hinata want to drag Kiba's face down to her face and give him the hottest kiss of her life, like the ones she reads about in romance novels. And her robe would just happen to fall off during this steamy kiss.

The aroused girl wanted to keep this fantasy going, but she knew if her body reacted, Kiba would definitely smell it. So she finally looked to Sasuke, and felt all sexy vibes disappear.

Sasuke didn't seem affected by Kiba's excellent speech, nor did he leave. He was doing that thing where he glares at people while thinking through his next move. Always intimidating, even when he's simply thinking.

Kiba had no time for that, "Kami Uchiha, what will it take for you to not be a prick to Hinata and leave?"

Folding his arms, "For the information I seek from Hinata, I will use more courtesy in the future."

Then he scanned Kiba's body with a look of ... appreciation?

"Is there any practical application of exercising your body to feature that many abdominal muscles?"

Kiba must have been surprised, as Hinata had to restrain a whimper of loss when he separated his sinewy body from hers to look at his own stomach. Not growling for the first time in this conversation, "Ninjas don't really benefit that much more from them, I just do the extra exercises and diet to make them look this way," he eyed Sasuke mischievously, "You checkin me out, Uchiha? What will Naruto think of that?"

Sasuke blushed, and it was Hinata's absolute favorite face he had ever made. And then he pouted, pouted, as if his pride withheld him from saying what he really wanted to say.

"Full offense to your pride intended, I'll teach you the exercises some other time if you leave," Kiba grinned as if he was absolutely confident in his ability to win this confrontation.

With extreme reluctance and minimal eye contact, Sasuke nodded.

Kiba made a shooing motion, but not before Sasuke looked to her with expectance.

Covering her face with her hand, "Just have him do the jutsu, but stay in his male form."

Sasuke only blinked with a "Hmm," before teleporting away.

"He's the actual worst," Kiba sighed, "but having him check me out was the weirdest ego booster. Is it OK if I hate him slightly less for it?" He looked to Hinata for approval.

She embraced the chance to blatantly check out Kiba's body herself.

Kami, he is ripped. In her line of work, she's exposed to fit men all the time. But Kiba...he did the most creative sorts of crunches to sculpt his body.

She felt her mouth salivating as her eyes drifted further down to where a V shape made an arrow to his manhood. The trail of hair helped guide the way, but that V...

She noticed he shivered, and realized all her windows were open and wintery air was coursing through her apartment. Shaking herself out of her inappropriate staring, "C-c-ccould you c-c-close the w-w-w-windows while I-I-I get-t-t dressed?"

Her stuttering was doubled by the clattering of her teeth as she felt ice-like hair penetrate her skin and frigid air wrap around her exposed skin.

He shook his head in a dog-like manner, and left to do her bidding.

The freezing girl shuffled and shivered to her bedroom and closed the door. The need to be warm overcame her sexual cravings that had dominated this past week. Ripping through her dresser, she donned her warmest shirt (dark purple), leggings (light purple), and socks (sparkly dark purple). The long-sleeved shirt clung to her curves in a flattering manner, so she resisted to the urge to cover herself with a heavy sweater for the possibility of ... does Kiba like my body? I don't quite know if he covered his eyes last night, oh Kami, why did I do that?

Her hair was an inconsistent mess of wet and dry, so she restyled it into the thousandth messy bun of this week.

Worried for the comfort of her half-naked teammate, she went to the travel section of her closet to pull out an extra change of clothes for Kiba. He used to have this endearing habit of forgetting climate changes when they traveled as genin, and Hinata brought backups for such occasions.

But that was when they were still teenagers. Before Kiba filled out. With broad shoulders and a trim waist. Unsure if the old black sweater and socks would fit, she hesitantly exited the safety of her bedroom in her warm monochromatic clothes.

All her windows were secure, and Kiba was in her kitchen with the kettle on the stove and his face buried in her tea box.

"I don't know if this still fits, but..."

He smiled smugly at the sweater, "You can have that, Hinata-chan," as he took the socks.

Her half-naked friend seemed to be avoiding eye contact with her and her body. Feeling slightly rejected, she chose to use a tactic she often read in her favorite steamy novels: putting on the male's clothes. She tugged the black sweater from Kiba's younger years over her head, and found it snug around the chest.

Alas, her tactic seemed to fail as he swiftly turned back to the kitchen without a second look, and brought his face unnecessarily close to the tea box. Why was he taking so long to pick his tea? Hinata then felt shame at her previous thoughts, Oh no, I'm so desperate for him to give me the savoring look I gave him earlier. Does he feel awkward about last night? We did drink a lot, and I said a lot, and I seduced him maybe a little, took off my pants and panties...

Holding her groans of embarrassment within, she used her social strategy of picking a neutral topic of conversation, "Where's Akamaru?"

Holding a bag of chamomile tea extremely close to his face, he continued to avoid eye contact, "He'll be along soon enough. I yelled to him to bring my travel bag to your place while he was growling at Uchiha," he scrunched his eyes closed and ran his non-tea-bag hand though his gorgeous bedhead, "Kami Hinata, when he showed up, I thought the worst. Uchiha is an asshat, but the missions he deals with are serious shit. More horrifying than ANBU shit. Seeing him and hearing your name..."

Hinata went to him and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. Forgetting her attraction to this man, she simply held her teammate of near thirteen years in the most soothing manner she could think of, "I'm OK, Kiba. It was a misunderstanding. A very strange misunderstanding. I'm so sorry."

He covered her arms wrapped around his middle with one of his. Speaking with almost a whisper, "You're important to me. So important," and he gently squeezed her wrist.

Tears lined her eyes. She felt touched he cared this much about her. Hinata returned Kiba's squeeze around his middle, "You're important to me too."

The moment was sustained until the tea kettle whistled, as did Hinata's anxiety that always found ways to interfere with beautiful moments.

Her anxiety brutally made her realize she should be ashamed for desperately throwing her body at one of her dearest friends last night and earlier in her bathroom.

Kami, last night she treated him as a ticket to her next orgasm. Not the kind and caring teammate she held in her arms.

Letting go of her friend, she moved to the couch to smother her face with one of her less embroidered pillows, I did that awful thing I read about in books when the self-serving girl treats the man who's crazy about her as a dick to ride rather than a person. How shameful.

And where her anxiety failed to punish her, the miserable hangover picked up the work. In addition to the pressing headache, her stomach growled with an uncomfortable hunger for greasy and spicy food.

Fortunately, Kiba was one of the few people who was familiar with hungover Hinata. She heard a mug being set on her coaster on the coffee table, followed by the clamoring of pans and cabinets. How on earth was Kiba the better host out of the two of them? Not only has he spent years adding decor to her apartment with gifts, he also cleaned her kitchen last night for Kami's sake.

Not feeling quite closed in on by all her mental, emotional, and physical feelings, Hinata dragged her weighted blanket on top of herself and curled up into a ball.

----

The next thing she knew, she felt a tentative hand rubbing her back through the heavy blanket, the smell of spicy fried rice filling her nose. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up, Did I fall asleep? Was it a dream?

Upon clearing her eyes, she was treated to the site of a shirtless Inuzuka making the table with two bowls of steaming fried rice with lots of red chili flakes decorating the surface, "Kiba?"

"You fell asleep. Itadakimasu," he chuckled at her before shoveling rice into his large, oh so large mouth.

Might as well be a dream, she mused, forcing herself to have a sip of tea and sit properly for a meal, "Itadakimasu."

The scrumptious mix of fried rice and egg with spicy seasonings allowed Hinata a period of peace she hadn't known in the longest time. Meals from these past few months have been overcome with unresolved tension, the pain of denied and buried emotions, or the misery of loneliness.

But not with Kiba. Although he didn't have the most sophisticated culinary skills, he made the basics with that laid back feeling that all too often eluded Hinata. He balanced her so remarkably well.

With that thought, about halfway through her bowl, Hinata actually did succumb to her emotions. Dropping her bowl on the table, she attempted to cover her face as hot tears poured down her cheeks and her body shook with the waves of loud sobs.

A pressure dropped the couch cushion under her as warm and safe arms enveloped her.

She didn't know if the break up had finally sunk in, that the man of her dreams was an underwhelming disappointment as a boyfriend. Or, if it occurred to her that the artificially inspired orgasms this past week via her vibrator and unrealistic romance novels had been empowering and delightful, but also a fantasy unlikely to come true.

Or, the terrifying realization that Kiba meant everything to her.

And she didn't want to treat him as eye candy, her next orgasm, her rebound, or anything of the things that she had been treating him like since last night.

She wanted him to officially be her everything. But she already fucked that up with her impulsive, drunk, and lust clouded actions.

Needing to atone, she turned her body around and wrapped her arms around his neck with a possibly suffocating hold, "Kiba!" she cried. Sorry wasn't a word worthy of his heartfelt ears regarding the way she had treated him. So she cried his name over and over again into his hair as he held her with a proportionally tight grip, his face also buried in hair. She might have considered loosening her strong grip if it weren't for the encouraging way he cupped the nape of her neck, as if telling her to stay as long as she needed.

So she stayed, and cried until her sobs regressed into deep breaths, until her tears had stained her cheeks and she found herself blinking away the few remaining, until she realized Kiba had been rubbing her back with soothing circles, until she realized his other hand was squeezing the back of her neck in an effort to ease tension, until she was able to focus on Kiba's heartbeat as a calming beacon.

She felt herself melt into his arms as the last of her tears fell. And that's how they stayed for an unmeasurable amount of time.

When she felt stiff from the way she had been clinging to him, Hinata slowly released her arms and sat back on her haunches to fix his tear stained hair. She met his eyes and was surprised to find they were lined with silver, as if he too had needed an emotional release of his own.

Hinata brushed a lone tear from his eye with her thumb, and he leaned into her touch. She felt herself breathe shakily at the intimacy of his reaction.

Kami, she wanted to kiss him. But...

Wiping her cheeks and nose with the sleeve on her other arm, "Kiba, last night was ... I don't want you to think," he looked into her eyes with the wary search for something she couldn't identify. Hinata needed to finish a sentence, so she chose the one thought that truly counted. Not an apology, a truth: "You mean everything to me."

If felt good to finally voice a vulnerable thought. Kiba had always been a safe place for those.

Kiba's animalistic eyes pierced hers, as he remained as still as she had ever seen him. And Hinata wasn't afraid to stare right back.

She felt a shiver pass through him, not unlike the one from this morning, "You are everything to me, Hinata, and I can't believe I didn't realize it sooner."

Her heart soared out of her chest.

As if he realized what he had said and implied, he retreated his hands and began to shift away from her, nervousness painting his face.

Hinata had never kissed with such urgent instinct before.

It wasn't until she felt Kiba's lips moving against hers that she came to and realized what she had done.

Retreating with an embarrassed squeak, she felt heat rush up to her ears as unfiltered thoughts poured out of her, "Kiba you mean everything to me and I don't want you to feel like a rebound because you are so much more than that and I know you caught me staring at you so many times because you have such a beautiful body and you are so handsome but that's not all you are, you cooked such a lovely breakfast and you take care of me by buying me treats for my anxiety you are the sweetest man I've ever met and I hope I didn't ruin anything by my actions last night, I can't believe I gave you my panties but I wanted you to think of me the way I began thinking of you and I would never do such a thing for anyone but you and that's because I see every part of you and adore every part of you and want to please your nose as much as I want to please the rest of you and-"

Her rant was cut off by his mouth. He kissed her as she only thought people in books could be kissed: with passion and hunger and desire. She returned in kind as she held his face with her hands.

As Hinata wondered where his hands could be, for they weren't on her, Kiba broke the kiss with heavy breathing and his own unfiltered rant, "Fuck. Wait, no, I don't mean it like that. Hinata, I'm wild about you. You mean so much to me and I don't want to fuck this up by going too fast. You're too damn good for that. I feel like I need to court you and romance you like they do in all those slow burn erotic books I privately read too. I want you, Hinata. I need you."

Hinata found her face dangerously close to his again. She finally noticed his hands were destroying two of her lovely embroidered pillows with his claws. Then her eyes followed the trail of devastatingly tendons and veins bulging from his strained forearms, to his chiseled shoulders, and sculpted chest, "Fuck, Hinata, when you look at me like that, it makes me want to touch you. I know I shouldn't say this, but...I want to..." he bit his tongue to hold back.

Nothing in the world existed but Kiba and his evident desire for her, and she hadn't even looked down yet.

Taking it slow sounded like a practical idea. In theory.

In reality, she desperately needed to know what he wanted. Leaning forward and again cupping his face in her hands, she simply kissed him, lips against lips, no movement, inhaling via the nose, heavenly. Parting with barely any space between their lips, "Tell me," she ordered.

His eyes roamed to her mouth, to her neck, her her chest, to the place between her legs. Her sitting position on her heels kept her legs closed, keeping the scents on her arousal safely trapped. For now.

He seemed to only be capable of vocalizing a defeated whine.

Hinata knew this was a moment to prove she could take it slow, to make Kiba feel like he meant more to her than a spontaneous fuck. If Kiba and her were serious about this, which she knew in her heart they were, she could take it slow. She would.

As she placed one foot on the floor, opening her legs. She heard the fabric of her long gone decorative pillows rip even further as Kiba's pupils dilated and he snarled. Snarled.

Daring a look down at his pants, she saw the physical evidence of his desire. And she wanted to snarl back.

She didn't know if she launched herself to straddle his lap or if he finally released the pillows to pull her onto him and tightly grip her backside, but the reality was that they were now breathing each other's air as their bodies ground together. The barrier of clothes didn't stop the wondrous pleasure and excitement that coursed through them.

This rubbing was so intense it had Hinata's jaw loose and fingers weak as she rode her man. Kiba's strong and controlling grip had her moving up and down his length at just the right pace. His teeth were bared as his forehead almost touched hers, and Kami did it turn her on.

"Kiss me," she moaned. She felt his mouth capture hers, hot and claiming. It slid to her jaw, her neck. Then she felt claws pierce the fabric of her leggings with an erotic pressure against her skin.

Then she felt it. That crawling sensation through her body starting from her core that indicated she was on the edge, "Inuzuka," she whimpered. His face arrived in her line of sight, and his eyes were full of lust and adoration as she came undone.

Everything stilled except the hands that continued her movements against him, as she felt her brain connect to her center in a burst of pleasure that had her gasping.

Draping her arms over his shoulders as the glorious sensations lessened, the instinct to please him took over and she leaned in to bite his earlobe and whisper, "Inuzuka, cum."

She found herself on her back with his arms wrapped tight around her. He thrusted into her, hard. He tilted his head to gaze at her, eyes half-lidded, and she watched him experience his own mind blowing orgasm.

When his body ceased its jerking motions, he shifted his weight to the side to rest his head on her breast as they both just breathed. She lazily played with his hair. He slowly rubbed her hip bone.

Then there was scratching at the door with a recognizable bark.

Neither of them made a motion to move.

Another bark. Kiba half heartedly shouted, "Give me a minute."

He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at her, a goofy smile plastering his face. She giggled back at him, and leaned up to meet his lips with an appreciative and happy kiss. She felt him grinning as he nearly collapsed his body on hers, if it weren't for the third bark. Kiba ignored it as he peppered her jaw with kisses.

Feeling exceptionally happy yet also concerned for her dearest canine friend, "Kiba, Akamaru might be getting cold!" She chided while her fingers betrayed her, weaving their way through his messy hair. His mouth found one spot at the juncture of her jawbone that made her want to squirm.

"The Hokage wants to see us," A flat-toned Shino said through the door, immediately quelling their affectionate activities. She motioned for them to get up, and he pouted.

Slithering off the couch, she made her way to the door as he covered his stained pants with her blanket.

The mirror informed her that her already messy hair was officially a disaster, especially the back part that had rubbed against her couch cushion. But it was just Shino, so she took the hairband out as she answered the door to let her two teammates in.

"There's been a change in our mission squad, and we are to report to Hokage-sama," Shino greeted them in his usual business-first, mannerisms-second style, "Good morning. Did Kiba sleep over?"

Hinata was attempting to fix her hair by brushing and braiding it, "No, he arrived early this morning for unexpected reasons."

Kiba held the travel pack Akamaru gave him strategically over his front as he made his way to the bathroom, "I thought Hinata was in trouble. False alarm. Uchiha Sasuke's an asshole."

"Kiba stayed to make me breakfast, and then..." She felt herself blushing. Should Kiba and her remain discrete? But Shino is their teammate, and deserves to know about the change in their relationship for a variety of reasons. Yet, the idea of announcing their confessions and activities so casually didn't seem quite right.

Fortunately, Shino's blunt perceptions saved her the hardship of handling the situation, "I see. You two are good for each other."

Smiling shyly, she put on her ninja sandals as Kiba came out with his usual ninja garb. They made eye contact, and the tension between them brought her to him. She felt her face smile widely without her consent as he leaned down to nuzzle their cheeks together and he whispered in her ear, "We'll talk later," she felt his nose twitch, "As much as I adore this scent, I won't be able to focus around the Rokudaime."

"Oh, of course!" she squeaked as she took off her sandals and dashed into the bedroom for fresh panties and pants. Speaking of which, she was reminded that these leggings now had claw marks in a quite noticeable place. Biting her lip, she put them and her panties to the side to give to Kiba later.

----

Fuck, was it hard to focus on the Hokage when Hinata was fiddling with her braid oh so cutely.

The memories of last night at her place, last night when he was in his room, and this morning on the couch flooded his brain. Most significantly, the confession of how much they meant to each other.

But that's the part he's trying to comprehend with as much maturity as possible: she cares about him on an emotional level, but her body is pretty much in heat.

Kiba knows what he wants with absolute certainty: Hinata.

But he doesn't want a fling, or a short term relationship. He wants her for the long run, and he wants it to be romantic as fuck.

Here's the problem: although she doesn't want to treat him like a rebound, her body is showing all the signs of a person who's craving some fantastic fucking.

Could Kiba do that? Yes, but it would ruin his long game strategy of the cliche slow burn plan. He wants his relationship with Hinata to be like one in his romance books. Which he realized he admitted he reads to Hinata during his rant this morning.

Yes, he reads romantic and erotic novels. They are very entertaining and educational. As a teen, is mom and sister not only gave him the talk about safe sex, but also a talk about how to have good sex. And reading about it via these books was his favorite way to up his game.

Admittedly, their dry humping this morning threw off his plan. But damn, it felt amazing. He also owed Hinata some new embroidered pillows.

"Hinata is to be removed from your upcoming mission. We will place another sensory nin on your team to compensate," The Rokudaime's words shocked Kiba into focus.

"Why the sudden change? We leave tomorrow," Shino questioned.

Kakashi sighed, "Apparently, the Hyuga clan have been invited to the Winning-of-the-War anniversary event in the Cloud a month early. As a gesture to make amends for past conflicts, among other agendas," he stared as the ceiling, avoiding eye contact with his subordinates.

Kiba looked to Hinata, who was staring back at him. Her face indicated she had no idea about this invitation. She blinked her eyes at him with a hint of disappointment.

She was going to miss him.

Then her eyes drifted further down his form, and she let out a wistful sigh.

...And his body. Kiba never thought there would be a day when he wanted to shake Hinata out of her sex-crazed state. But here he was. Simultaneously turned on and resentfully objectified. Is this how girls feel when he hits on them with hookup intentions? Now he gets it.

----

The day progressed with Shino and Kiba working with their replacement team member, Yamanaka Ikuyo, while Hinata went to her father discuss her family vacation to Kumo.

Kiba hoped she started the conversation with, "What the fuck?"

He chuckled and continued his day dream while Shino went over their usual team formations and adjusted them to the Yamanaka's sensory style. Ikuyo seemed to be a seasoned pro, and was excited to have a detective style mission, so her motivation made her easy include on their plans.

The sun was setting after a long day of planning, so Ikuyo parted from them to independently study the mission scrolls and her new teammates strengths. Kiba didn't understand such a level of discipline, but appreciated it as it gave him an excuse to invite himself over to Shino's for dinner. Bug boy didn't mind.

Even though they all had clan households they could reside in, modern Konoha culture had this new trend of adult ninja taking a few years to live on their own before settling back into clan households for good. Kiba was the first on Team 8 to get his own place, Hinata followed suit with tremendous encouragement. But Shino didn't lean into the trend. He hated feeling left out of social things with his friends, and the possibility of being left out of family events made him even more depressed. So he happily resided in the Aburame household.

Which was the safest place for Kiba to go. Hinata and Kiba would only be in the same village for one more night before her trip. Such a one-night-only situation was the ideal vibe for a steamy and desperate sex-fest. Which sounded spectacular and like the night of his dreams.

Unfortunately, it would not only ruin his long game of romancing Hinata properly, but it may also ruin their romantic potential entirely. And that idea scared the shit out of Kiba.

What if after a glorious night, Hinata felt like she got-it-out-of-her-system? What if they didn't talk afterwards, and she went to Kumo thinking they are now just casual fuck buddies? What if it enabled her to see him as only a sexual object, and not a viable romantic partner? Or what if she did what she said what she wouldn't do: treat him as a rebound, and then after a month apart, she just wouldn't be interested in him?

These insecure thoughts plagued him every time he drifted into a day dream of all the ways he wanted to touch her, and all the ways he fantasized about her touching him. Instead of playing attention to Ikuyo's explanation of her skills (he would figure it out in real-time), his thoughts alternated between sexy images, the consequences of them sleeping together too soon, and then the best part: what if he stuck to his plan and he truly had everything.

Visions of endless handholding in the village, cuddling in her spa-like apartment, walking Akamaru together at sunset, buying her fresh flowers, moving in together and taking care of her, cooking for her his greasy friend rice whenever she wanted, saving money to buy her a very special and very dainty piece of jewelry...

Those were the fantasies that made Kiba feel invigorated, motivated, and most seldom seen: disciplined. He would stay with Shino tonight as an extra measure, maybe write Hinata a romantic note, and dream about her for a month until he could truly have his shot with her.

Maybe this month apart would be a good thing. She'd have a respectable amount of time to get over the break-up with Naruto, simmer down her rebound seeking sex drive, and then he could commence with his ultra-romantic slow burn plan. Just like in the books.

Just as Kiba was feeling confident in his fantasies and plans while drinking tea with Shino on his porch, all was foiled when Hinata landed in front of them.

"Tea?" Shino offered without a second thought. Kiba was clenching the edge of the porch, trying not to mouth breathe as he stared at the woman of his dreams, who was wearing a lovely yukata reserved for clan meetings. A yukata that had fallen off one shoulder with the abruptness of her landing.

"Yes, please," she replied in a frustrated manner. Not frustrated at them, but by the the undoubtably disagreeable meeting she had with her family. She took her graceful body to lean against a nearby pillar, and stare at the night sky.

The silvery light of the moon bounced off her milky skin, and Kiba wanted to confess all his desires to her in that moment.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Shino helpfully offered as Kiba unhelpfully gazed at his angelic beauty.

Said angel shook her head, "I'd rather not,"

Her eyes then met Kiba's, and the tension from this morning snapped into place. It felt like slow motion when she stood up straight, walked to him, and offered temptation, "Walk me home?"

Yes, of course. He'd do anything she asked. He'd walk her home, kiss her forehead goodnight at her door. Kiss her neck goodnight her living room. Kiss her lips goodnight as he languidly made love to her under the moonlight streaming through her bedroom window.

He found himself falling into these fantasies as he stood in front of her, staring into her twin moon-lit eyes, showing how much she yearned for this as much as he did.

"Kiba requested to stay here tonight," Shino interrupted. The emotional nin wanted to simultaneously throttle him and shower him with thanks.

Hinata's eyes drifted to Shino, then back to Kiba's in confusion.

Shino, never failing to bluntly insert his perceptions into awkward moments, "I don't think he wants to be your rebound hookup before you leave for a month. That would hurt his feelings."

Even though every word out of his friend's mouth was the truth, it made Kiba lower is eyes in shame that he couldn't find those words for himself. Hell, if it weren't for Shino, he might go home with her to avoid telling her how he really feels.

"Oh..."

Then an unexpected pain hit Kiba's chest. She didn't deny any of Shino's words. No matter how much they meant to each other, the reality was that the timing of their feelings of affection overlapped with Hinata's desires of needing a validating night of sex.

Kiba went to Akamaru, who was lounging against the house. He sat cross legged next to his beloved partner, and pet him in a self-soothing manner.

Shino didn't stop being blunt, "Hinata, although you and Kiba are good for each other, perhaps now is not the time to kindle such a serious relationship, considering you and Naruto only broke up a week ago."

He could feel her grow uncomfortable with the unwanted observations and advice. Kiba wanted to pummel Shino for saying such cutting truths, "Shino, enough," he growled under his breath.

But Kiba couldn't face this anymore. Now was the time to wish Hinata well, give her a platonically affectionate wave, and leave to the guest quarters.

Standing up and forcing his face into his classic arrogant look, "We have a mission first thing, Hinata-chan. Shino and I are a bit caught off guard not having you with us. We'll miss you."

Whistling to Akamaru, "We'll say goodnight, and see you in a month after you show those Cloud nin how badass the Hyuga clan are," he forced out a wink and a toothy grin.

But then he noticed her eyes were welling with tears, and he felt his own eyes begin to water as well. They would figure it out after her mission. Dropping the inauthentic arrogance, he allowed himself to use a more affectionate tone, "See you later then."

Oh, how he wanted to hold her. But he knew if he did, he wouldn't let go without revealing his most vulnerable thoughts. So, he turned away from her with a wave.

"Kiba!" she cried before her scent surrounded him just before her arms did.

His hands instinctively covered hers as she held him from behind as she did this morning. After telling her she means everything to him. He interlaced their fingers together and squeezed. He felt tears through the back of his shirt, "Kiba, I-I-I didn't mean to treat you like that. P-P-Please forgive me."

He didn't know how much more his heart could take today, "It's OK, Hinata. I understand," he found one of her anti-anxiety stress points on the inside of her arm, and rubbed it gently.

She pressed harder against his back, and he wasn't going to let go of her arms until he knew she had recovered.

"Kiba, maybe when I've returned, you and I could..."

Before he knew what he was doing, he used one of her arms to bring her to his front, one hand cupping her cheek, the other holding her hand against his heart, "No way am I gonna let you say that now. When I get to Cloud for the celebration, you and I are gonna party our asses off and drink all their good sake," He saw a hint of smile on her face, "And when we get back to the Leaf, I'm gonna ask you out on a proper date. It's gonna be romantic as fuck."

She leaned her cheek into his hand and gifted him with a lovely smile. For the second time today, he brushed residual tears from her cheeks with his thumb. He wanted to end it there, but he sudden'y realized that there was one important thing that she should know, "And while you are in Cloud," he took a shaky breath and stepped away from her. He couldn't hold her for this next part, "You recover from ... that guy... however it makes sense to you. It's OK."

In other words, he was encouraging her to find a rebound there. The details of what that would mean made him sick to his stomach. But it would be OK, because he would ask her out in a month and they would have their chance then.

That's at least what he told himself.

Her eyes did that thing where she looked concerned with eyebrows scrunched together and up, eyes big and blinking, lower lip jutted out in protest. Yet she managed to nod in understanding.

He wanted to run away and destroy something. But he couldn't let that be their last interaction. Grounding himself with the thought of their first date to come, "What kind of flowers would you like?"

Oh, the things those fluttering lashes did to him. His angel smiled up at him, "Peonies."

Not trusting himself to say anything else, he nodded and returned her smile.

"I'll walk you home, Hinata," Shino's timing was often too on the nose, and Kiba was grateful.

She nodded to him, then looked back to Kiba. After a moment of thought, she grew on her tip toes to lean into him. He didn't dare move as she gave him a tender and warm kiss on the cheek. And then, the new light of his life was off with Shino.

He didn't know how much time had passed between when he was standing and when he was on his knees. At some point, Akamaru sat in front of him and pressed his head against Kiba's.

It was probably only 24 hours since she gave him those perfumed panties. And somehow a day later, he felt like he had given her his heart. Kiba shrugged against Akamaru's fur, "Not quite the romance in the books seen in books, but we'll get there."

Akamaru gave a bark of agreement.

----

A/N What a day in the life of Kiba and Hinata!

So, this story might be longer than the originally intended three chapters. Oops. I have the next chapter half written. The smut tho... yeah.

Also, the way Sasuke checked Kiba out?! The thought of them being work out buddies brings me so much joy. It's like a bro-style crackship.

Reviews please!

#kibahina #naruto fanfiction #kiba inuzuka #hinata hyuuga #hinata hyuga #hinata kiba #sns #Sasuke Uchiha #sasuke #naruto shippuden fanfic

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wayward-mikaelson · 4 years ago

Text

The Run In

Word Count: 4692

Pairing: Misha x Reader

Characters: Reader, Misha, Diego (OG Character), Xander (OG Character), Divorce Lawyer, Police Receptionist, George (OG Character), Female Officer, and Male Officer

Summary: The Reader gets away from her abusive husband. After bumping into a stranger, the Reader forms a friendship with him which the Readers soon-to-be ex-Husband finds out about.

Disclaimer: Language, Angst, Fluff, Mentions of Domestic Violence, Mentions of degradation, Blood, Implied Smut

Disclaimer 2: This work of fiction contains Domestic Violence. If you have been a victim of DV please read at your own discretion. If you are in a DV situation please call 1-800-799-7233, of you’re unable to speak safely, you can log onto thehotline.org or text LOVEIS to 22522. YOU ARE NOT ALONE. If you are in an emergency, call 911. There are also DV/IPV programs and shelters in your area who can help you.

Disclaimer 3: Any of the shorts that are hot and steamy, I want to put out there that it's in no way disrespectful towards Vicki at all. I love her to death and respect that marriage between her and Misha. So when reading those shorts, know that it all takes place in an alternate world where they aren't married at all.

A/N: Sorry this is late. I have been hitting some sort of writing block. I have the words in my head but for some reason I can’t get them out.

A/N 2: Tag your anyone who loves Misha!

*18+ Content. Anyone younger than 18 will need to move along. I do not want to risk my account being deleted.

**Please DO NOT copy and paste my work anywhere WITHOUT my permission and WITHOUT giving me the proper credit. I work way too hard on my work and don’t want it to get stolen.

***This work is also posted on Instagram, Wattpad, and AO3. Go show it some love over there.

****Please follow me on my other accounts Instagram, Wattpad, Twitter, and AO3

*****DMs are CLOSED for REQUESTS. I gotta finish up my other two projects.

Forever Tags: @donnaintx @myinconnelly1 @magssteenkamp @elansaidaris @hobby27 @440mxs-wife

I sit alone in the apartment, huddled on the couch. The fight had been bad this time. I mean, all fights with Diego were bad but, this one in particular had been pretty bad. I look around the trashed apartment and try not to replay the events that took place almost an hour before. The television was busted, a couple chairs had been thrown over, the mirror my mother had salvaged and repurposed for me was destroyed, glass was everywhere, and my grandmothers clock she passed down to me was busted up.

I don't know how I got here.

I don't know how I let it get so bad.

I slowly get up off the couch and watch my step all the way to the bathroom. I flip the light on and there, glowing bright red, on my face is the handprint of my husband. The throwing of things has been going on for a couple years. Hitting is new and Diego never hit me until recently. I should have left him months ago. Maybe even years ago.

After that first hit.

It was after a Christmas party at his office. We got into a fight about me talking to his co workers and about the dress I wore. He said he had been embarrassed by it all. I'm the stand you ground type of woman who snaps back. The moment I had snapped back, was the moment Diego hit me. Diego has been surprised so he left for the evening. I should have just packed and left. I didn't, I waited an apology that never really came and when it did, I knew he didn't mean it.

Tonight, it was about the fact I went out with a few friends and forgot about dinner for Diego. When I came home with take out, he lost it. Called me every name in the book. Threw things and hit me and left.

I slowly touch the already welting mark. I suck in a sharp breath when my cool hand touches the raw skin. It stings so bad that even my tears make it sting. I look at myself again in the mirror. "How pathetic," I whisper to myself. "How pathetic of you to have stayed this long over a boy that can't handle his anger. That's going to change."

I walk out of the bathroom to the room Diego and I share together. I head straight towards the closet and pull out a duffle back and begin to fill with the important things. Clothes. Some shoes. Bathroom and shower necessities. I swap out purses, leaving both my car keys and phone in my old one. I can't risk having Diego try looking for me. I log into my bank account and change every security question and answer. I close my eyes. I never thought I would need to do this yet here I am.

I look around the apartment one last time. My eyes land on the photo from our wedding day. I grab it and rip the picture from the frame. I take a lighter and set it ablaze in the kitchen sink with a few other photos. Taking a deep breath, I finally make my exist from the apartment.

I walk to the nearest bus stop and wait for the bus to show up. Even in the dark it's difficult to hide my swollen face from the world. So I keep it down and tucked behind the collar of my coat. When the bus finally shows up, I get on it and pay my fair. I go sit in the back and ride it all the way to where I need to get off. The ride is quiet. A few people stare at me when they catch sight of my face. I turn away from them and keep my face hidden away. I stare at my bags and think, this is all I have now. A few clothes, money, these bags, a few personal items, etc.

The bus stops and I quickly grab my bags and get off. I turn this way and that looking for the building I need to go into. I spot it, It's hidden behind some trees and another bus stop across the street. I make my way across the street and into the police station.

There is a lady sitting at the front desk. It looks like she's packing up to go home. She gives me a friendly smile and sets her bag aside.

"What can I do for you?" She asks. I see her zero in on the mark on my face and the look in her eyes looks like she's about to cry. "I think I know what papers you need." She turns and leaves the area and returns with a few papers in her hands. She slowly hands me the papers and a pen. "Do you need a safe place to fill these out? Theres a room I can take you to."

I nod, I want to cover as much of my trail and steps as I can. Diego is a smart man. He will soon learn I left him and will soon come looking for me. The lady walks me to a room with a table. She tells me that she won't close the door because some people in my situation get triggered. She walks to the officer that is sitting at a desk across the way and tells him something while pointing to me. The officer looks at me and then nods to the woman.

I look down at the Order of Protection and Restraining Order papers and take a deep breath. When I start to fill the paper out, I notice that I am still wearing my wedding ring and band. I take them off and set them in my bag. As I finish my paper work, I slowly get up and walk out of the room. The officer sees me and slowly approaches me.

"I can take care of this for you," He says reaching for the paper. "Now how about we get some ice for that mark and have a look to make sure it isn't more than raw skin." The officer sits me down and leaves. When he comes back he has a small ice pack and places it on my face. The cool pack feels so nice.

"I have a question," I say as the officer pulls out a first aid box and starts to look at my face.

"Yeah?" he responds.

"Is there a way to put in your system that I am not a missing person but on the run from my husband?" I flinch when the officer wipes my face with the alcohol wipe.

"Sorry," He starts to apply an antibiotic to my face. "If or when your husband comes to us looking for you, our system will actually show that these orders are on him. What will happen is that they will take your information and tell him he has two days until you are declared missing. In that time frame he would have been served with the restraining order." The officer puts a large band aid over my face.

"Good," I say.

"How long?" the officer asks.

"Long enough to finally say fuck it and leave his ass."

***

A few days pass. I'm staying at a hotel and paying by the day. I purchased a brand new phone and got a new number. I called my parents and told them what was going on. They were mad and sadden by the situation but are happy that I got out when could. I got word from my officer friend that the restraining order was delivered but he said that Diego didn't look happy.

A week passes and I am still staying at the hotel. Not many apartments won't rent to me until I'm legally separated from Diego. I meet with a lawyer to have divorce papers drawn up and served to him but according to her, once the papers were signed, it would take a few months for them to be filed.

"Now all we need to do is get you two in here to sing these?" the lady says.

"About that," I fold my hands. "I have a protection order and restraining order on him."

The lawyer nodded her head. "I see. Well, I will have someone deliver to him and see if he will sign them. Just be prepared," She reaches for my hand and takes it in hers. "Some men like him, they will stall this as much as they can to get you to meet in person."

I nod. "I understand, in that case, if I have to meet him, I will have someone I trust with me."

As predicted, a week later, the lawyer calls me ups and tells me that Diego refuses to sign. Says I'm having a mental breakdown and needs to just come home so we can work it out. The lawyer also mentions that Diego had said that I'm lying about him throwing things that it's all me and that he only hit me in self defense because according to him, I slapped him before he slapped me.

I sit back in my hotel room in hot anger. I can feel the steam of my anger coming off my skin. I'm angry he won't sign the papers. I'm angry he started to make up shit about me. But jokes on him, I kept a private album on my iCloud of all the times he hit me. It my friends idea, she encouraged me to document it all somewhere where he doesn't know the password to. She passed away about a year ago from getting hit by a drunk driver.

"I'm going to need a printer," I say looking at the countless pictures of abuse.

***

The next day I go out and purchase a decently priced printer. And a decent laptop since everything was on my phone. As i'm walking down the street back to my hotel, with my things, I find myself falling onto hands and knees. The printer box rolled a few feet from me. I hope it isn't damaged, I think slowly sitting back on my knees and just staring at it.

"Oh my goodness," a voice says. "I am so sorry."

I look up to see a man with a ragged hair, black sunglasses, a black t-shirt with a jean jacket over it, and dark skinny jeans reaching down to help me up to my feet. I take his hand and slowly get to my feet. I notice the scruff framing the rest of his face. The sun shines perfectly behind him and I can't help but feel drawn to him.

"I should have watched where I was going and make sure there wasn't a beautiful woman carrying a large object," the man says turning to pick up my printer. "Doesn't look damaged from the outside."

I smile and feel my face burning. I'm sure it's bright red. "It's okay, I should have called an Uber instead of walking three blocks. I'm sorry about your coffee." I gesture to the fallen cup and spilled contents on the sidewalk. "Let me buy a new one."

The man laughs and waves a free hand. "No need to waste your money on my accident."

"What can I do?" I ask after I made sure my laptop box was fine.

"How about you let me help you with this so another person doesn't run into you?"

Taking a deep breath, I accept the strangers offer. We walk the last block talking about the city. When we get to the hotel, this man offers to carry the printer all the way up to the room. Didn't even question if I was living there.

"Thank you for doing this," I tell him as he sets the box on the small table.

"Anything," he smiles. "And when you are ready to search for apartments I know of a few good ones."

I give a small smile. I guess it's obvious that I was living in the hotel. "Thanks," I watch as he walks himself to the door. "I did never get your name." I call after him.

"Misha," he smiles. "Collins."

***

A month goes by and I am no longer looking like a crazy person after submitting all my pictures to my lawyer. Still Diego refuses to sign the papers unless he can meet with me alone. Of course I say "fuck no."

"If you want to be rid of him forever, then you have to compromise," my lawyer tells me.So I makes plans for the inevitable. But I have my officer buddy tagging along with me to the meeting.

I stare at the divorce papers and I am praying Diego will sign them at our meeting. But I doubt it. Ever since I left him, I started to see the red flags. Even friends that I still have and that haven't been manipulated by Diego, have told me they saw the way he treated me and spoke to me.

I need fresh air.

I get out of the hotel and walk to the the nearest park. It has a lake right in the middle of it. I rest my arms on the railing and then drop my head on my arms. This is more stressful than when I planned a wedding with Diego. I'm closing a door on almost seven years of marriage.

Diego was never like this. Even when we dated for five years. He was always so sweet, so kind, understanding, etc. He would buy me flowers for no reason. My apartment would be covered in them and I would tell him that I would donate some to nursing homes just to make room. I don't know what snapped in Diego to make him the way he was now.

Sighing I look up and stare at the lake. There is a small flock of ducks swimming passed me. Their color feathers shine in the afternoon. It puts a smile on my face. Something that is hard for me to do lately with everything going on.

"I was wondering when that smile would come," a familiar voice makes me turn to my left. There, a few feet away from me, Misha stands. I haven't seen or spoken to him since he left my hotel after giving me his number.

A number I never called or texted.

I had too google him to see if I could find anything on him. Well, I found a crap ton on him. An actor who did a crap ton of good. He is loved by millions.

"How long have you been standing there?" I ask. Another smile creeping onto my face.

"Not long," he says walking closer to me. "Just long enough to see that frown turn upside down." He gives a small smile. "Are you still at that hotel?"

I chuckle. "I am, I haven't had the time to look at apartments. I've been preoccupied trying to get my soon to be ex-husband to sign divorce papers."

Misha leans up on the railing along side me and looks at the ducks. "Maybe he's holding out to want to try and work things out with you?"

I laugh. "No, he's abusive and isn't having it with me being in control of myself now. The night I left him, it was really bad. It took a while for the mark he left on me to go away. Then he tried to convince my lawyer that I was having a mental breakdown."

"I'm sorry," Misha pulls back from the railing and pulls out his wallet and shows me a penny. "Here's to him signing the papers so you can officially be free of him." He tosses the penny into the water. "Are you doing anything, tomorrow?" He asks.

"Besides meeting Diego to get him to sign papers? No." I answer twiddling my thumbs.

"How about after you meet with him, I take you to look at apartments?" He leans towards me with a smile. "I can get you a really good deal. I'll even drive, so we don't have to walk."

"Sure."

***

"He's late," Xander says stirring his now cold coffee. Xander is the officer that helped me the night after I left Diego. Xander was also the one who helped set me up at the hotel I'm staying at. Xander's wife, was a domestic violence victim and he was the officer that pulled his ex husband off her. They didn't get hook up until a year later when they ran into each other. They have been married for almost ten years with two kids.

"Just give it a few minutes," I say contemplating buying another coffee eying the divorce papers on the table.

Five minutes later, Diego waltz into the Starbucks and spots us. A smile spreads across his face when he sees me. Then it instantly fades when he sees Xander. He crosses the little shop in a few short strides. His black shoes squeaking from the rain outside.

"So," he sits down and crosses his arms. "Is this who you left me for? Some wanna a be body builder."

Xander smirks. "No, I'm actually a police officer. Since YN here has a few orders drawn up on you it's best that she have the right protection. Even in a public place." I notice that as Xander leans over he has his badge in his hands.

Diego looks over to me. "Can' you stop being so dramatic about this? So that we can just do this alone"

"Not ever going to happen," I say firmly. "And I'm not dramatic. Not about you hitting me."

The look in Diego's eye's grows dark but he puts on a fake smile. "I would never hurt you," He looks around as a few people over heard what I said. "I can't believe you're still on that."

"Look," Xander leans back and pushes the papers towards Diego. "All YN needs you to do is sign these. This game you're trying to play, just keeps hurting her."

Diego stares at Xander. "I don't think I will." He pushes the papers back and starts to get up. "Until next time."

"You're just going string this along aren't you?" I stood up so fast that Xander's coffee spilled. "I don't want to be married to you anymore. I stopped wanting that when you threw the first book and kicked a hole in the wall. I stopped when you hit me. I just let it go on for so long that I forgot how to not walk on eggshells. You don't own me. I don't love you. So sign the fucking papers."

Diego stares at me. I hadn't realized, but I pretty much yelled. I gather my bag and make my way out. Xander follows me.

"Hey," He hands me the papers. "Do you need me tot drive you back?"

"No, a friend is picking me up," I pull my phone out and text Misha. "He should be meeting me in a few minutes. He's taking me to look at apartments."

***

Another month goes by and I'm moved into my new apartment. All thanks to Misha and his ways of persuasion. I got the first six months half off. It was a nice little one bedroom apartment with a little den. Misha even convinced me to let him buy the furniture sets I had my eye one in a catalog.

"I'm just use to working hard for stuff like this," I say when the last of the movers move the stuff in. "I literally don't know how to thank you. Even just saying 'thank you' doesn't seem to be enough."

Misha laughs. The laugh takes up his entire body. "Just a simple thank you would be enough. Unless you want me to come up with a way to convince you to let me take you out to dinner. As friends of course."

I feel my cheeks start to burn. This dude is smooth. "Okay, dinner, as friends, it is."

Misha smiles big. "Awesome, now lets get this place looking as good as you."

For the next two days, Misha is over helping me settle down in my apartment. Whenever he leaves for food or whatnot, he always comes back with something to add to the place. I didn't even argue once.

The time I spent with Misha, he always hyped me up for stuff, he said things how it was and never ever sugar coated things, he held doors open, and gave me words of encouragement whenever I told him that Diego, again, refused to sign papers over.

Diego not signing papers was frustrating. The more time I spent with or talking to Misha, the more my feelings for him grew. But I was still tied to the asshole of a man who knew what he was doing. He knew of my interactions with Misha, he always brought it up but I would shut it down.

"He's just using you for public gain," Diego would tell me. But I knew Misha pretty well at this point. Things I've read on Twitter about him, Misha would never use someone like that.

Each meeting I had with Diego, I started to see him for who he really was. I don't even know how I fell in love with him. He's even gotten his parents convinced that I'm a lunatic. His mom would text me calling me all sorts of names and telling me that I should be the one paying for Diegos therapy sessions. She would also tell me that she knew I was trouble when he brought me home to meet them. His father wanted me to pay back every dime he had spent on mine and Diegos wedding or he would get a lawyer involved. He would even send disturbing texts saying that he's got people watching me and that I should be be careful.

I won't lie, that scared the shit out of me.

That last one pissed Misha off. I have never seen him go off about someone before. After that text, I went out and put restraining orders on Diegos parents and Misha convinced me to have someone look after me while he was gone for his show. I agreed and my new 'bodyguard' went with me everywhere and made sure I got home safe. Misha even hired a security company to set up an alarm system at my apartment.

If I didn't know better, Misha was or has developed some kind of feelings for me.

***

A year after I made my escape from Diego, I finally have my own car. Paid for all on my own. So no more walking. I park my car in my apartment parking spot and pull out my phone. I see the text from Misha, it's from an hour ago. His flight is delayed and that he would see me at some point tomorrow.

"Bummer," I lay back and watch as George, the bodyguard, pull his car into the parking spot behind me. I unbuckle and get out and watch as George do the same. Before I could get a word out, I see two police cars come up and two officers run passed me.

I slowly turn around and watch them run up to my level. My heart beats fast and I follow them. George, of course follows as well. I skip the steps two at a time and watch as one officer kicks my down. I hear yelling and banging around. Suddenly, George has both his hand on my shoulder and pulling me back as an officer finally come out.

With Diego in handcuffs. His nose is bleeding and a bruise is already forming on his face.

I pull away from George and run into my apartment. There standing in the middle of the room was the other officer talking to Misha. Misha has a busted lip and small gash on the side of his head. I notice that the glass bowl that Misha got me was in pieces and the coffee table was destroyed.

Misha sees me and I rush over to him. "Oh my gosh," I take hold of his face. "Are you okay?"

"Are you the lady who lives here?" the officer asks.

"Yes, and this is my friend," I don't my eyes off Misha.

"And the gentleman we arrested?"

"That's no gentleman," my voice is hard. "That is my abusive soon-to-be ex-husband. He has a restraining order on him."

The officer puts her note pad away. "That will explain a lot. We will contact you if we need anything else." With that, the officer left.

"Everything is all good?" Georges voice makes me turn around.

"Everything is good, George," Misha says. "You can go."

After George leaves I turn back to Misha. "You said you're flight had been delayed. What happened?"

Misha leads us to the couch and we sit down. "I only said that so I can surprise you. I hadn't been here for even an hour before he broke in. He wanted to know where you were and I wouldn't tell him. I guess a neighbor called 911 due to the yelling and stuff. Officer saw my stuff and I said my friend lives here and is letting me stay with her."

I nod my head. "I'm just happy you're okay. I don't know how Diego found me."

"It doesn't matter," Misha takes my hand. "He will answer for it in court.

And Misha was right. A week after everything went down, Diego was charged with breaking and entering, assault, and basically breaking the restraining order by stalking. I sat in during the hearing with Misha. Diego's parents tried to fight the five year sentence but the Judge said that if they said anything else before court ended he would double it without parole.

A few weeks after that, I am getting dinner ready when Misha shows up. He had been showing up a lot lately. I don't mind it at all, Misha makes me feel sane and safe.

"Hey," Misha says setting his coat on the couch. "I see that new coffee table came."

"It did, thanks to you," I say pulling a second plate down. I've learned to make a bit extra whenever Misha came over. "Also, I have some good news." I point to the orange envelope on the table. Misha looks at it and then back at me.

"Did," he starts to say.

"He sign it?" I finish his question. "Yeah, he called saying he will sign it. So I dropped by and had them take the paper to him to sign. I wasn't going to see him. They brought it back all signed. I am mailing in the morning."

"That's amazing, YN," Misha comes up to me and hugs me.

"Well, let's celebrate with dinner."

After dinner, after we clean up, we are sitting on the couch. Talking about whatever came to mind. We are talking about things we are still embarrassed by when Misha takes my hand.

"YN," He says softly. "I want to tell you something."

"Sure," I put my free hand on over his.

"I...I really care about you and I am glad that it was me here and not you when Diego broke in," Mishas voice is soft still. "I honestly don't know what I would do if you were here and he hurt you. All I ever wanted was for you to be safe."

"And I am," I slowly rub his hand with my thumb.

We stare at each other for what feels like forever when Misha pulls his hands from mine and put them on my face. His eyes look search mine for permission but I lean closer to him and brush my lips over his. He closes his eyes and I feel the shiver run through his body.

His gentle grip on my face forces my face back to his where his lips wait. They're smooth and there's a lot of passion behind his kiss. My hands run up to his collar as I move closer to him. The kiss deeps and Mishas hands trail down my sides to my hips where he pulls me onto his lap. It makes it easier for my tongue to push pass his lips and into his mouth.

Without breaking the kiss and with a low growl, Misha stands up, both arms supporting me as he walks us to the bedroom. Kicking the door shut.

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