#And ALSO now they should probably stop it from holding the most dangerous rave | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jeontaeil-archived · 3 years

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a night full of surprises //

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆

pairing: hyunjae x fem!reader

genre: smut, fem receiving, handjob, unprotected sex

words: 2.06k

warnings: 18+ content, read at your own discretion

summary: you reluctantly allow hyunjae to take you on a date. but what you don't expect is to end up having a very good time.

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you were going on a date with hyunjae and it was making you extremely nervous. the only reason you had even agreed to it in the first place was because he'd been pestering you nonstop, asking you out at the most inappropriate occasions. you thought that giving him what he wanted would mean that he'd lay off you for a while. at least then your friends and parents wouldn't cast looks of disapproval on you.

it wasn't like you'd attracted hyunjae on purpose. you had no idea why he was going after a girl like you in the first place. you were quiet and studious, completely different from the type of girls he seemed interested in. but for some reason, hyunjae just couldn't set his sights away from you. maybe if he got a taste of how boring you were, he'd realise you weren't worth it.

hyunjae pulled up at your door, honking loudly so as to alert the entire neighbourhood that he was taking you out tonight. leaving the house, you put on the most genuine smile you could muster and got into his car. his eyes raked over your outfit, a simple skirt and blouse, smirking to himself slyly. though you may disagree, you had certainly dressed to impress.

he drove off, taking you to god knows where. you didn't bother asking, knowing that you'd most likely have no idea where the destination was even located. hyunjae didn't seem like the type who'd take you to a restaurant for a fancy dinner or something cute and cliche like that. honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if he landed you at some rave.

things were quiet between you two. no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't find the courage to speak first. you also had no idea what to say to him other than the obvious. luckily for you, he caught you glancing at him and smiled, deciding to spark up a conversation.

"so, what did you do today?" his question was normal. this caught you off guard. he was always so chaotic and excited. it was a surprise seeing him be so casual. you sighed and shrugged. "nothing much. i did some homework and then i spent most of the day wondering what i should wear," you answered. the last part wasn't true but he wouldn't know that so it didn't matter.

"well i think your outfit looks nice," he complimented, sounding sweet. you couldn't help but smile. "thank you."

hyunjae smiled back, keeping his eyes on the road. "aren't you curious to know where we're headed to?"

you shook your head. "no, not really. i can tell i've probably never been there anyway so what's the point?"

he seemed surprised by your words. it felt like your roles had reversed. hyunjae never recalled a time when you were so confident and outspoken. he liked seeing this side of you.

the only reason you were acting the way you were was because you felt comfortable. which was a bit odd considering the fact that you'd been dreading having to converse with him. hyunjae was really leading you to believe that your time with him would actually be worthwhile. you hoped the night would continue like this.

eventually, hyunjae made a turn onto a narrow off-road. it was a bumpy ride. he apologized and shared that the destination was just around the corner. soon enough, he pulled up into a small grove. hyunjae turned off the car and clapped his hands together.

"this is it," he revealed. you took in your surroundings, raising a brow in confusion. "you brought me to the middle of nowhere?"

he nodded, smiling expectantly. "i figured we could just talk and get to know each other better." you glanced at him, completely baffled. "really? i thought you lured me out here to fuck me." hyunjae snickered to himself and shrugged. "i mean if you're down then we could do that too." rolling your eyes, you shook your head and leaned back in the seat. "this isn't too bad. i like it."

just like that, hours passed. the sun had finally lowered beyond the horizon and the air had gotten a bit cooler. you had no clue how, but you were leaned over your seat, lips locked in a calm but heated kiss with hyunjae.

after you'd run out of topics of conversation, all you did was stare at each other with small smiles on your lips. it seemed there was nothing else to do except follow your instincts. his lips were soft, and his touch was gentle. every now and then he'd rub his thumb over your knee, making your skin tingle. hyunjae soon pulled away from you, a giddy smile on his face as he stared at your lips.

"do you wanna keep going?" he asked you, looking fairly expectant. you bit your lip and nodded. hyunjae gestured to the back seat with a smirk. you clambered into it while he simply entered through the door.

his lips were back on yours in a matter of seconds. this time he pushed you down on the seat, hovering over you. placing your hands on his chest, you let him lead the kiss. hyunjae's curious hands trailed over your thighs, coming dangerously close to your panties until his fingers eventually hooked into the thin material. he tugged them slightly, pulling away from you to ask if he could take them off. nodding quickly, you watched him peel them down your legs and toss them into the front seat. hyunjae spread your legs, eyes sparkling at the sight of your glistening core.

"fuck, your pussy's so pretty," he mumbled, licking his lips eagerly. smiling shyly, you tried to shut your legs again. "don't stare," you whined, not having the courage to look at his face. hyunjae giggled and toyed with your clit, just amazed at how cute and innocent you were.

"tell me y/n. have you ever been fucked in the back of a car?" he continued playing with your clit. you squirmed about, trying to process his questions. after a while you covered your face and whimpered. "only once, but it was really uncomfortable."

hyunjae hummed and caressed your thigh with his other hand. "that's a shame. i promise i'll make it worth it."

while he rubbed your clit with his thumb, he pushed your blouse up to your neck, tugging your bra down so that your breasts popped free. his fingers tweaked at your nipples, making you yelp softly.

"does this feel good," he asked, continuing to touch you? you nodded, still avoiding eye contact with him. "well do you want more?"

you did want more. but you were too embarrassed to admit it. somewhere hyunjae realised this and he chuckled to himself. "there's no need to be so shy. i promise i won't bite baby."

your heart skipped a beat that the nickname. you peeked at him from between your fingers, feeling bashful under his intense stare. he just couldn't get enough of you. he pried your hands away from your face and made you look at him. you could tell he was really enjoying the view.

your throat felt dry all of a sudden. it was like you couldn't speak, even if you wanted to. hyunjae seemed patient. he was still fully clothed and that made you feel singled out. so you presented your first request.

"i feel weird being the only naked one," you spoke, still feeling a bit awkward. hyunjae raised his brows, understanding what you meant. he smirked and tugged his shirt off. this was the only time you actually stared at him without shying away. you always knew he worked out but you never realised how effective it was until this moment.

hyunjae laughed at your reaction. "what else do you want?"

you hesitated, looking at him unsurely. "i don't wanna lay here doing nothing." you were too bashful to actually admit what you wanted to do.

hyunjae unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out. he took your hand and brought it to his member. "you could help me out with this," he said, guiding your hand over himself. eventually, he let you do it yourself. once again, his eyes raked over your body as you very timidly stroked his cock. you felt so flustered that the only place you could look was at your hands. hyunjae didn't mind at all. he was too enticed by the sight of having you splayed out underneath him, touching him so lightly.

he squeezed the inside of your thigh and continued playing with your tits as you made him harden up completely within your grasp. he soon pulled out a condom from his back pocket and was about to rip it open before you stopped him.

"don't use that. i'm sure you've got a nice pull out game."

hyunjae swore he was gonna marry you. he couldn't believe you were actually asking him to just fuck you raw, that too when it was your first time hooking up with him. he tossed the condom aside gladly and pushed his tip into you.

your eyes squeezed shut immediately. he was definitely bigger than anyone you'd ever slept with before. it wasn't an easy fit but after a few tries, he finally managed to stretch you out just enough. still, hyunjae pulled out of you and made you watch him enter you once again.

"look how good you take it," he praised, pushing his cock back into you oh so slowly. you wouldn't lie, the sight was a lot to take in, quite literally as well. he bottomed out, holding onto the headrests above you.

he started bucking his hips into you, groaning at how awfully tight you were. everything he did had you squeezing your eyes shut so it came as no surprise to him that you weren't watching yourself getting fucked.

though loud, your moans were soft to the ears. your hands rested aimlessly at your side. hyunjae took your hand in his and simply held it as he fucked you. his thumb came to your clit, unable to resist touching you somewhere.

"oh hyunjae," you cried out, throwing your head back in ecstasy. he held your thigh with his other hand, still continuing to caress your velvety skin.

hyunjae soon pulled out of you and flipped you around, making you get on your hands and knees. he rubbed his cock at your slick folds before pushing back into you. it was hard to remain steady in the cramped space. you put your hands on the window and let one of your legs touch the floor of the car. hyunjae pulled your hips back on his cock, groaning in satisfaction. fucking you felt so numbing. he wouldn't say you were easy to please, but you were. the longer he fucked you the more it felt like he was wrapped up in this blanket of unyielding pleasure and he loved it.

"god, can you go faster please?" you were starting to feel your orgasm approaching. hyunjae silently accepted your request and began pounding into you quickly. your hands gave way, chest falling to the seat. hyunjae grunted, now able to fuck you harder and deeper. his fingers clawed at your ass, needing to dig into something. you moaned hazily, feeling a little dizzy now that you could tell your orgasm was about to hit.

hyunjae snapped his hips up into you before sending you straight to your climax. he continued fucking you, this time faster as he too was nearing his own high. crying in delight, you let out a string of curses. hyunjae snapped his hips into you yet again, sharp thrusts pushing him to his high. he was quick to pull out of you and empty his seed onto your ass. you wished you could have witnessed the scene.

he pulled your skirt back down and paused to tidy himself up. you did the same, returning to your original state.

"i never thought you'd be down to fuck on the first date. you seem like the type who likes to take things slow," he admitted. you smiled and shook your head. "i mean, usually that's how things would be. but with you, i just couldn't resist."

hyunjae smirked. "you must like me more than you let on."

your eyes widened slightly. "yeah, maybe i do."

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#hyunjae smut #the boyz smut #hyunjae imagines #hyunjae scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #kpop smut #ficscafe #kpop-script #kpopscape

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before-we-get-started · 3 years

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My Favorite Mistake Pairing: Colin Shea x Reader Word Count: 3525 Warnings: Fluff, angst Image by pinterest.com “You sure you don’t want to meet us later? We should be done with dinner by 8.” “No thanks.” “Y/N, you haven’t been out in weeks. You can’t just stay in that apartment all the time. Put on that cute black dress and meet us at Rave’s.” You pulled the blanket up higher around your chin, making sure it covered your socked feet on the coffee table. “It’s ok, I really appreciate it but I’m really comfy here. I’m gonna check out a new series on Netflix.” Your friend sighed through the phone. “Ok. Call me if you need me, ok?” “Thanks,” you said, ending the call and tucking the phone under the blanket in your lap. It was 7:30 on a Friday night and you were alone, a pint of Ben & Jerry’s serving as dinner as you surfed the TV for something good to watch. It had been exactly three months. Three months since your heart was shattered, three months since you thought your world had ended, three months since you’d allowed yourself to enjoy anything. Everyone warned you, including a few friends that had traveled the same road. Colin was trouble. While everyone agreed he was dangerously sexy and incredibly handsome, everyone knew that for Colin, variety was the spice of life. He’d even told you that he tried one time to settle down with someone, and it was so painful when it ended, he would never do it again. That didn’t stop you though. You’d never forget the moment you’d met him – you were moving in to apartment 6C in a gorgeous, historic building in Boston. It was your first place of your own – your folks were so proud of you and helped you get moved in. On day 3 in your new place, your world changed. You were stepping out your door for work when your neighbor in 6A opened the door to grab his newspaper. He was naked but for a flowered bathroom towel that he held to keep his privacy. He was tall and lean with defined pecs, muscular arms, spiky blonde hair and blue eyes that reminded you of the ocean. And then he smiled, a million watts reaching across the banister to your apartment. “Good mornin’ 6C. I’m Colin,” he’d said in that delicious deep voice. Somehow you’d managed to squeak out your name, trying hard to breathe and keep walking. You had to pass him to get to the stairs, trying not to trip and fall or make an idiot of yourself. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around,” he said as you made your way down the stairs. “I hope so,” you’d replied, your voice sounding stronger than you imagined. A corner of his smile turned up and he gave you a little salute as you headed downstairs. True to his word, he’d knocked on your door that night with a bag of Chinese food and you’d invited him in. You played hard to get that night, even though the four beers and those blue eyes nearly broke your will. But on Friday, when he knocked again, you didn’t even make it through the tacos he brought over. Before you knew it, you’d gone from deep kisses on the couch to your bed, where you fell asleep wrapped around his body after hours of incredible sex. When the sun came up that Saturday morning, you blinked your eyes as you awoke, looking up at the most handsome face and long eyelashes you’d ever seen. You’d kissed his cheek, then peppered his neck and shoulders with kisses, releasing him from sleep and encouraging him to take you again. You’d wrapped your legs around him and he’d carried you into the bathroom, where you ran a hot bath and the two of you snuggled under the bubbles for an hour. The next few days you were inseparable. As soon as you got home from work, he was there. Most every night he stayed in your bed. More than once you’d watched the glow of the sunrise on your bedroom walls as you and Colin couldn’t get enough of each other’s touch. You’d watched some movies, binged a couple of shows, and shared the kitchen preparing some of your favorite recipes. You’d also talked, and talked, and talked. You told him about your ex, the guy you thought was “the one,” even though you certainly never felt for him what you did when you were with Colin. He told you about Allie, who had lived in your apartment before. He’d fallen hard for her and thought maybe he should think about settling with one girl, but she’d broken it off suddenly, and later he learned she’d eloped with one of her exes. The hurt in his eyes had been unbearable. That night you’d made it your quest to make him forget her – he’d called your name more than once and you’d held on to him tight, kissing him with enough passion to wipe out the sad memory of her. There was something so thrilling about being with him. Most of the time you didn’t have a plan, and you loved how each time with him would unfold. You’d spent a few evenings listening to your favorite tunes on the roof of the building, dancing under the moonlight. Colin was always working on songs for his band. He’d strum the guitar and you’d listen intently - you’d even helped him with lyrics on a few. One night Colin texted and told you he had plans and wouldn’t be able to see you. You’d texted back and told him to have a good night, happy to find him waiting at your door the next night after work. A few times he’d left to spend then night at his apartment. You’d noticed he’d checked his phone and figured he had something on his calendar for the next morning. You’d mentioned him to your girlfriends and gotten more than one eyeroll. “How many of you have slept with Colin?” your friend Jenny asked your friends at a bar one night. A few raised their hands. “I’m not stupid,” you’d responded. “I know he likes girls. We’re just friends with benefits.” The words came out, but you knew they were a lie. You were in love with him. Head over heels, heart and soul, forever and ever in love with him. You were in love with a total player who made it his goal to sleep with every girl in Boston. And so, on the morning of the 6-month anniversary of your first evening together, the truth had reared its ugly head. You’d spent the night before at your parents’ house after having dinner with them and had run home to get ready the next morning before heading to work so that you could bring him a gift. You’d picked up his favorite cannolis from the local bakery. You knew he was probably still asleep so you hung the bag on his door and texted him to check when he woke up. As you left for work, you heard a giggle across the hall. A girl opened Colin’s door and peeked around the edge, grabbing the bag of cannolis from the doorknob. You heard his laughter behind her as she closed the door. You froze. You couldn’t catch your breath. Your knees were weak. Tears burned at your eyes. The next few moments were a blur. You marched over to his door and knocked softly. You heard a rustle, then he was there, bare chested, wearing your favorite ripped jeans. “I hope you two enjoy your breakfast. I’m glad I went out of my way to bring it to you on a day that at least means something to me.” You turned on your heel and rushed down the stairs, ignoring him calling your name. You’d broken down on the train, dabbing at the tears to try and save your makeup. The older lady next to you patted your arm as you pulled yourself together. Your phone had dinged all day. Text after text from him, none of which you read. You were upset, but mostly mad at yourself. It was your own fault. He had told you himself that monogamy wasn’t his thing. But it had been impossible not to believe he felt something for you every time the two of you came together. The way he looked in your eyes, the way he held you so close, the way the two of you were entangled for hours on end. Could it really not be more than just sex? That night you’d stayed with a friend, leaving from her house the next morning for work. You’d left work early and slipped into your apartment in the afternoon, changing into his t-shirt and climbing into bed. You’d slept through to the morning, trudging in for another day at work. You couldn’t help but wonder what was happening behind his apartment door. It was unbearable to think of him holding someone else, kissing them the way he kissed you. For weeks, you’d managed to avoid seeing him. More than once you’d heard him come home, then heard a soft knock at your door, but you didn’t answer. There were so many text messages. “Good morning Y/N. Hope your day is good.” “Good night, sweet dreams.” Worst of all, lots of “I miss you” texts that made you want to open the door the next time he knocked. You wanted to see him again. You wanted to just accept that you’d take what you got from him and be happy with it. But knowing that you might be his Thursday and another girl would be his Friday was just too hard. How could he kiss you in that spot on your throat that drove you crazy, and then do the same thing for someone else? How could something so intimate not mean more to him? So for three months, you’d been miserable. Friends had tried to set you up on a couple of blind dates, your mom had even tried to introduce you to one of your dad’s associates, but you just weren’t ready. And now you were sitting home on a Friday night, wrapped up in frumpy sweats and a blanket, feeling sorry for yourself. You didn’t know exactly what got into you but you threw the blanket off and headed for the bathroom. You peeled out of the sweats, turned on the curling iron and grabbed your makeup bag. In 20 minutes you’d pulled on your favorite little black dress, applied makeup for an evening out, curled your hair and grabbed your beaded clutch. You slipped on your strappy high heels and headed for the door. You’d text your friend and let her know you’d be at Rave’s to meet them. As you opened the door, you stopped cold. Colin was in front of you. He had on gray slacks and a pale blue button up shirt, the first three buttons open. His hair was styled, the thin silver chain of his necklace and the tattoo on his chest peeking out from his shirt. His ocean blue eyes lit up when he saw you. He held a bouquet of roses in his hand. You smelled the musky scent you loved so much. “Hey,” he said shyly. “You look amazing.” He licked his lips as he looked you up and down. You went from startled to smug in a few seconds. “I’m on my way out,” you said. “Meeting some friends tonight. Mind moving out of my way?” He hesitated but stepped aside. You brushed past him, looking over your shoulder at him as you rounded the banister. “Y/N, I really want to talk to you.” “Not tonight,” you said confidently, descending the stairs. The club was rocking when you got there and the girls were all glad to see you. You took advantage of all the free drinks they were supplying and did your share of dancing, including a couple of slow dances with hot guys that were knocking each other over to flirt with you. When one asked to walk you to your Uber, you agreed, and took him up on making the ride to your apartment. He’d taken your hand as you ascended the stairs to the 6th floor, chatting and laughing all the way up. You fished in your clutch for your keys when you heard the door behind you open. Your escort put his hand at the small of your back and pulled you in for a kiss just as Colin peered out. You opened your eyes just as he started to close his door. You saw that sadness, the same sadness you’d seen when he’d told you about his broken heart. Your escort started to turn the key but you stopped him. You thanked him for walking you up but said you needed to call it a night. He gave you another kiss and you exchanged phone numbers, then he headed down the stairs. You let out a huge sigh as you stared at 6A. You thought the night out would help extinguish the fire but it continued to rage inside you. You walked over and gently knocked. You held your breath as you watched the door knob turn. “Hey.” “Hey.” “Can I come in?” He pulled the door open a bit more so you could step in. He stood still, looking down at his feet. You pushed the door closed. “Why were you dressed up tonight?” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I had a date.” You felt your heart sink a little. “Oh. How’d it go?” “I don’t know.” You cocked your head a little. “You don’t know?” “Nope.” You shook your head a little. “Why don’t you know?” “Didn’t happen.” You blew out a sigh, a little frustrated. “You had a date, but you didn’t have a date.” “Right.” “Ok,” you said. Maybe it was a mistake coming over. You turned towards the door. “Well, sorry to bother you, just thought I’d say hi.” “Don’t you want to know why it didn’t happen?” You sighed. “Sure, I’ll bite. Why didn’t it happen?” He stepped toward you, then put his hands on the small of your back, pulling you closer. “I went to ask her and she was on her way out.” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and looked into those ocean blues. “Where’d she go?” “I don’t know,” he said gruffly, “but she didn’t come home alone.” “Hmm,” you hummed, “wonder if he likes cannolis?” He looked down for a minute, something flashing across his face. Guilt, maybe? To his credit, he met your eyes again. “I’m sorry.” You’d hoped to hear those words for so long. You hoped he’d at least acknowledge that he’d hurt you. “I was an ass. Easily the most asshole thing I’ve ever done. And that’s saying a lot. I’m sorry.” You let out a quiet chuckle. “Definitely a move that will get you in the Asshole Hall of Fame.” It was his turn to laugh and he met your eyes again. “I was scared,” he said. “Scared? Scared of what?” “Of us,” he said. Your eyebrows scrunched in surprise. “What do you mean?” He let out a huff of air and squeezed your hips a little tighter. “You and I, we were really good. I got so used to being with you. Everything about you made me happy. And I got scared. I tried feeling that way before and it broke me. I had to put some space between us.” “So you let some bimbo eat our anniversary cannolis?” He laughed a little, dropping his head and shaking it. “Yeah. I know. I’m a shit.” “Yep,” you said, popping the ‘p’ loudly. “I tried to talk to you. Tried to apologize. I texted, came over a few times. It was clear you weren’t interested in hearing what I had to say. So tonight I decided to step it up.” You felt tears burn at your eyes. You wanted to stay strong and blinked them away. “I did something incredibly stupid,” you said. “Yeah?” “Yeah. I fell in love with you. Even though everyone told me and everything inside me knew I shouldn’t, I did. All of those times being with you,” you said, your eyes glistening with tears. “All of those kisses, all of those touches, they meant something to me. More than just hooking up. I let myself believe they meant something to you too,” you said. “They did,” he said softly in that deep, sexy voice. He lifted a hand to your face, cupping your chin and gently touching his lips to yours. You closed your eyes, soaking in the feeling. You pressed your hands to his chest. He deepened the kiss and you instinctively let your hands slide up and encircle his neck, burying your fingers in the hair there, pulling it a little between your fingers. A soft moan escaped him as he pressed his body closer to yours. He dropped his hand to your hips again, pulling you so close you could feel him through his jeans. Sirens sounded in your brain. You were letting yourself fall down this hole again. You knew how hard it had been to climb out. You gently pulled out of the kiss, licking your lips and rubbing the tip of your nose on his. “I can’t,” you said, a tear escaping your eye. He pressed his forehead to yours, pulling his hand behind your head and caressing your soft hair. “Y/N.” There was no sound like that of your name on his lips. It was like music. You felt yourself shiver as you fought with everything you had not to melt into him. “I want more than you do. It’s too hard. It’s not your fault, it’s just how it is. This – hurts,” you said, a soft sob escaping. “I want it too.” You felt a sad smile cross your lips. “Not like I do Colin. I want all of you. Everything. I don’t want to share. I don’t want you to touch anyone else.” You gently ran your hands up his chest. “I don’t want you to kiss anyone else,” you said as you pressed your lips to his. “I don’t want you to find that special place on anyone else,” you said, pressing your lips to that place on his neck that drove him wild. He growled deep in his throat, encircling your waist with his arms. “Y/N,” he breathed. “It’s ok,” you said sadly. “I was lucky to have you while I did. Most people don’t get to feel what I felt with you.” You ran the backs of two fingers down his cheek, letting yourself dive into those eyes. Every inch of you felt warm. “What if –“ he started, then hesitated. “What if we start again. And I don’t fuck up this time.” You let out a low laugh. “You’d just be setting us up for failure. It’s ok Colin. I don’t –“ His fingers circled your wrists and he covered your lips with his. “It’s not ok. I hurt you.” He kissed you again, this time a little deeper. “It took me seeing you with someone else to really get it. I’ve missed you so much. But seeing you tonight – I just ache. Please tell me we can try again.” He smothered your mouth with his, sucking gently on your bottom lip. “Please Y/N.” You tried taking a breath but it caught in your throat, your heart beating wildly. You’d be a fool to do this again, put yourself out there for more. How did that saying go, insanity was doing the same thing over again and expecting a different result? “Colin –“ “I love you.” You blinked at him, certain you’d just imagined it. “What?” He smiled, that smile that could light up the entire city. He gently pushed a piece of hair behind your ear and let his fingers linger on your earlobe. “I,” he said, kissing the tip of your nose. “Love,” he said, pressing his lips to the apple of your cheek. “You,” he said, locking onto your eyes with his, then gently kissing your lips. “I love us.” You leaned into him, burying your face into the side of his neck, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m afraid.” He pulled you to him, stroking your hair, a hand at your lower back. “I know baby,” he said. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s ok. I’ve got you.” You let yourself melt into him more. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to let go. “What if – what if you get scared again? What if I’m not what you really want? What if you wake up one morning and look at me and realize I’m a mistake?” You felt his chest rumble with a little laugh. “Trust me baby, you’re my favorite mistake.” He pulled back and kissed you, and you let yourself melt into the love of your life.

#chrisevans #colinshea #whatsyournumber

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chaseatinydream · 3 years

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pirate king (18) || atz

You and Wooyoung are sitting in the rigging, staring out to sea.

The Treasure has left Tortuga for a few days now, sailing in the open sea for the town of Nassau. From what Wooyoung has told you, Nassau, Seonghwa’s hometown, used to be a port thriving with pirate activity… until one day, the Royal Navy decided retake the town from the pirates. Pirate ships were burnt to the ground, the crews hung at the gallows and anyone associated with them brought in for questioning.

It is during that purge that Seonghwa’s parents were killed.

Seonghwa has finally left the confines of the galley, escorted to the sickbay to sleep and rest. Yunho is keeping a vigil beside Seonghwa, while you’ve taken over his cooking duties and Yunho’s lookout role. You may not be as well suited to the job as the two of them are, but it’s the most you can do for being to blame for Seonghwa’s condition.

If only you had known what to do.

You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut.

If only you hadn’t let the herbs be stolen.

You know it’s stupid, but the thoughts won’t stop echoing in your head.

If only you hadn’t gone out to celebrate your name.

You chew your lips.

If only you hadn’t come to this ship.

Guilt tears at you from the inside like the teeth of a piranha. The pain is all too acute, all to real.

“Hey.”

You’re jerked back from your thoughts by Wooyoung, who’s grinning at you. Somehow, the head gunner has pushed past the air of gloom surrounding the ship, managing to keep a broad smile on his face despite the weight on everyone’s shoulders. How he’s doing it, you don’t know, but part of you resents how easily he can seem to forget that Seonghwa is still in the sickbay, struggling to block out the voices of his dead family from his ears while all of you are absolutely powerless to help.

Even now, Seonghwa’s still refusing the sleeping incense, but Yeosang has given given him back the steak plushie, which he hugs to sleep every night. Jongho helps by singing his hyung to sleep. San mixes relaxing teas for him. Captain and Mingi studying the overlay of Nassau, trying to find the most inconspicuous way they can enter the town without garnering the attention of the authorities.

It’s only you and Wooyoung who can do nothing. And the guilt you feel is swallowing you whole.

Wooyoung suddenly leans forward, shackles clanging as he uses his fingers to turn your mouth up in smile. “I’m sure captain and Mingi will think of something. We’ll help Seonghwa-hyung and everything will be fine soon. Don’t be sad.”

Anger rushes forth.

“Don’t be sad?” You snap, smacking his hand away. Wooyoung looks visibly wounded, pain flashing across his face as his hand falls to his side, but you’re too caught up in your fury to notice. “Seonghwa-hyung is in this state and you have the gall to smile and act happy?”

Something in Wooyoung’s normally bright viridescent eyes darkens suddenly as he silently watches you rant.

“I hate how you’re still so happy go lucky! It’s like you don’t understand what it’s like to lose someone even though you’ve had family like Jongho-hyung and Yunho-hyung!” You continue raving, not seeing the way Wooyoung’s fingers clench so tight around the ropes his knuckles turn bloodless. “ I’m the only one who has no family, alright? I’m not like all of you, I don’t know what it’s like, but you’ve had family before, so shouldn’t you try to be more understanding?”

Silence falls between the two of you as you finish. Then you realise that you’ve just literally just thrown everything, your hurt, your pain, your guilt onto Wooyoung, who must be suffering too somewhere deep down inside. To your horror, his head hangs low so that you can’t see his expression, but from the way his shoulders are curled in on themselves, you must have wounded him deeply. Regret and guilt fills you.

You can’t seem to do anything right.

“Wooyoung-hyung, I’m sorry-”

“What else am I supposed to do, then?” Wooyoung breathes, turning to meet your eyes head on. You desperately want to look away, but his gaze is unbreakable as steel. There’s something utterly frigid about them, almost terrifying, like a dragon rearing its head. “Cry? Complain? Feel pity for myself? Curl up in a ball and hide until all the problems disappear?”

That’s exactly what you want to do right now under the weight of his of his intense stare, pinning you down.

“Hyung, I didn’t mean it-”

“You did.” Wooyoung cuts you off fiercely, his green eyes burning. “You meant every word of it and I don’t blame you. But I want you to know that I don’t intend on moping around because that’s not going to help anything. So get those stupid thoughts about it being your fault out of your head because none of them are true and smile because you need to believe things can get better.”

The resolve in his voice is unshakable, and you curl in on yourself to avoid Wooyoung’s stare, shame burning on your cheeks. All this while, you’ve only been thinking about yourself and your guilt, forgetting that you also affect the members of the crew and that moping around hasn’t helped at all.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper quietly under your breath, but Wooyoung hears you anyway and his smile returns once more.

“I forgive you.” He beams at you gently, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Your head rests against his shoulder, seeking comfort. “I understand.”

You wipe the tears from your eyes as you swallow down your emotions. Right. Smile. Be positive. Staying negative isn’t going to help anything.

Then Wooyoung frowns as he looks down onto the main deck. “Yeosang is coming over. I wonder what he needs.”

“Wooyoungie! Is Chin Hae up there with you?” The navigator stops in front of the main mast, hand shielding his eyes from the sun as he looks up. Wooyoung nods. “Yeah! Do you need him?”

“Can you tell him to come down? I have something to discuss with him.”

You frown, a little confused as Wooyoung glances at you in surprise. Then he leans forward to pinch your cheeks into a smile again, mirroring his own. “Go on. Don’t forget to smile.”

You manage a real smile for the first time in days.

“Thanks, Wooyoung-hyung.” You say as you climb over the side of the crow’s nest, making your way down and dropping lightly to the main deck. Yunho would be so proud if he saw you doing that. “What do you need, Yeosang-hyung?”

“San spoke to me earlier about your encounter with a fortune teller.” Yeosang explains to you as the two of you make your way across the main deck. Your eyes widen as you realise what he’s talking about. “Since Hongjoong-hyung is steering and Mingi is sleeping in the main hold, the captain’s quarters are empty and I thought that I could take this time to research on what the fortune teller said with you.”

Your heart leaps into your chest with ecstasy at what this could mean, but then you pause a little.

“Should we be doing this now? With everything that’s going on?”

Yeosang stops in the middle of pushing open the door to the captain’s cabin to look at you seriously. You’ve never realised how big and clear his eyes are, completely genuine and free of any trace of ill will. “It’s not like we can do anything now. What we can do is keep our spirits up and be strong for Seonghwa-hyung until we reach Nassau. And you’ve been looking down lately, so I thought I could try to cheer you up by clearing some of your questions.”

Warmth blooms in you at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Yeosang-hyung.”

The navigator smiles happily at you, almost radiant. “No problem. It’s my honour you’d trust me with such an important piece of information.” He opens the door and ushers you in.

You’ve never been in the captain’s cabin without the captain being present, so the room is unnaturally quiet and still. Yeosang, however, seems to know the room like it’s the back of his own hand, moving towards one of the shelves at the far end of the room while you hover awkwardly at the door.

“Please sit.” He indicates to the bed as he pulls out a scrap of parchment. You recognise it as the one Seonghwa had written your prophecy on the other time when you were discussing your visit to the fortune teller. Yeosang brings the paper over to you.

“So, what part haven’t you figured out?” He asks seriously, as he reaches in his pocket for a small wooden case, producing a pair of thin, gold rimmed eyeglasses and placing them on his nose delicately. You look over the words.

“The sea witch and the jar of clay.” You answer honestly.

Yeosang nods and moves over to his array of books. The walls are covered in them, from texts to maps to travel rutters to books of varying languages. There are even some tied up in stacks and placed neatly on the floor, all of them well kept and not a speck of dust on them.

He pulls out a few books, putting them in his arms as he mumbles to himself, eyes flitting among the shelves. Then he returns to you, setting the books on the table with a huff. “Let me look through these for a moment.”

You study him intently as he flips through the books faster than you can blink, fingers flying along the pages. The title on some of the books read ‘Legends of the Sea’, ‘Mythical Folk’ and such.

“The sea witch is a powerful entity who was once human with a bond to both the land and sea. She holds immense power, drawing upon the sea to cast spells. In return for a high price, she grants both magical and non magical folk alike what they desire.” Yeosang reads aloud, meticulously focusing on every detail. “Only people in great desperation can find the sea witch, as her lair lies hidden in a magical realm of the sea in which mortals cannot find. The entrance is rumoured to be off the coast of several uninhabited islands in the Atlantic, guarded by the sirens and fierce tidal straits rip through the waters, smashing any ship that dares pass through.”

“That’s… good to know.” You swallow uncomfortably. The only one who probably knows exactly who you are, and she’s probably out of reach. You’re unwilling to put the crew in danger because of your own problems.

“Those who have made a deal with the sea witch tend to have a token on which the deal was sealed.” Yeosang continues, glancing at the necklace hanging from your neck. “The price is often exorbitantly high, and is rarely something of material worth. It often is something of immense value to the person making the deal.”

Your memories.

You had given up your memories.

“In popular folk stories, she was responsible for taking the voice of a mermaid who’d fallen in love with a prince of the land in return for her legs. She also gives out pieces of ropes with three knots. Pulling the first knot could yield a gentle, southeasterly wind, while pulling two could generate a strong northerly wind, but the third knot would unleash a hurricane.” Yeosang looks slightly interested. “Hongjoong-hyung has one of these, but he’s used the first knot already.”

“Really?” You gape. This sea witch can’t be mere legend now.

The navigator nods as he picks up another book. “We were being chased by the Royal Navy, but he used the wind to blow the ships away. That’s when hyung really started to believe in myths a little.”

He opens a book called ‘Symbolism Through Ages’. “Jars of clay, jars of clay… Jars of clay refer to humans. In many books such as the Holy Bible, humans were described to be jars of clay, having mortal bodies while holding precious souls of great value in them.”

A jewel resting in a jar of clay.

Yeosang’s eyebrows pinch together as he continues reading. “This is a interesting explanation, but not rather helpful as it’s quite metaphorical. You said that the fortune teller asked you who’d made you?”

“Yeah…” You shiver a little at the words. “Then she told me the sea witch was my mistress.”

Yeosang frowns thoughtfully, and you can literally hear the gears in his mind turning. He picks up another book, flipping through it absentmindedly as he glances through it. “Made… Clay… Vessel… Humans… Sea Witch… Bargain...”

Then he stops.

All at once, his eyes fly wide open, pupils dilating in realization, mouth going slack, face ashen. The expression on his face can only be described in pure, unadulterated shock, and he stops breathing for a second as if air has trapped itself in his lungs.

Your heart skips a beat in excitement.

“Did you find something?” You begin to ask excitedly, but Yeosang barely seems to hear you, staring in horror at the page, then at you.

Unease begins to crawl up your skin, but you force it to the side and ask. “Yeosang-hyung… what is it?”

That seems to snap Yeosang out of his daze and he desperately tries to smooth his face in a neutral expression, but he can’t quite hide the terror in his eyes. “It’s nothing. I just thought of something, but it’s no big deal.”

The way his voice is trembling tells you it is anything but.

Your eyes narrow in suspicion and barely restrained anger. “Yeosang-hyung, what are you hiding from me?”

“It’s nothing.” The navigator insists, slamming the book shut. You get a mere glimpse of the cover. Prome-, but then Yeosang’s hand slides over the title and you can’t see it any longer. “It’s nothing at all, so just let it go, please.”

Usually, you’d let anything he says go, but this is different.

“Then let me see it.” You hold your hand out to take the book, but Yeosang wrenches it from your grasp before you can even hold it, eyes flaring in panic.

“Don’t touch it!” Yeosang shouts furiously, clutching the book to his chest. Rage fills you, what may be an answer to your identity is right there, but Yeosang won’t give it to you. You storm over to him, ready to rip the book from his hands if you need to.

“What are you doing?” You snarl at him, almost animalistic as you reach to tear your only clue from him, but Yeosang shakes his head, arms folding around the book.

“You can’t see it!” He screams at you, tears streaming down his cheeks and you feel red hot anger thrumming in your veins, purring to life like an awakening monster. Icy calm washes over you, in complete contrast to the fury burning in your heart. How dare he cry as if he’s the one losing anything from this?

Yeosang must see the shift in your eyes as your expression settles into one of dark determination, because his knees start knocking uncontrollably and his eyes dilate with pure, undiluted and primal fear.

“Give the book to me, Yeosang.”

In this moment, Yeosang makes a decision.

His fingers fumble with the latch behind him. Before you can realise what he’s doing, he’s opened the pothole, turned away from you and tossed the book into the ocean.

You feel like your last hope has been crushed into shards and scattered to the wind. Broken fury and grief screams within you like two clashing hurricanes, tearing you apart and ripping through you. Your eyes land on Yeosang, who looks stunned by what he’s just done.

You finally manage to find words in your rage to convey to him what exactly you’re feeling now.

“I hate you.” You spit with every bit of loathing you can muster, and with that, you whirl around and dash out of the cabin, the door slamming shut behind you.

Yeosang doesn’t say anything. Instead, he merely slides to the ground on his knees, body curled into a ball, wishing he could beg for your forgiveness.

And his fist pressed against his mouth to stifle the sobs pouring from his chest.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez jongho #ateez wooyoung #ateez pirate king #w; ot8 #w; pirate king #w; fanfiction

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 4 years

Text

The Lost Boys with an s/o having an anxiety attack + fighting depression would include~

(Not my gifs) (Requested by anonymous)

(As a warning: I’m not really experienced in these things so apologies if these aren’t incredibly accurate or what you wanted.)

David~

Panic Attacks~

- Now David tends to let you wander around on your own when you’re out on the boardwalk though as much as you seem to stray from the boys, he never seems to be far away when something happens. So as much as you may feel like you’re alone when everything starts to become too much, I assure you you aren’t.

- Chances are you didn’t tell him about your panic attacks yet even if you did he’d react pretty much the same. He often doesn’t do something immediately even if he feels as though somethings wrong, not wanting to overwhelm you if there’s really nothing wrong.

- If he’s aware of whats happening, then he’d act fairly quickly once he see’s that you’re acting strange, making his way over to you and/or asking whats wrong to see if his assumptions are true.

- If it’s his first time seeing you have a panic attack; with no prior knowledge of your condition, than he’d most likely just watch you, silently waiting for an explanation or for you to cave and tell him something.

- He kneels/leans down to your level when things are obviously getting bad, becoming more commanding when asking whats wrong before his voice turns sweet as sugar, trying to persuade you to speak/lure you out of it.

- As the leader of a vampire pack, Davids seen a few panic attacks in his day though before you, he most likely wasn’t aware that people could just have them without much of a reason or because of a less than dangerous situation.

- He doesn’t let anyone near you when you, getting you to the nearest secluded area he can while blocking you from view.

- He’s fairly good at calming you down, soothing you with his words and letting you do whatever you need to do to stop panicking: i.e. dig your nails into your hand, hide your face, cling to him, take deep breaths, hit something, etc.

- He usually tries some kind of distraction on you, getting you to focus on whats around you, grounding you to reality.

- Once you’re semi-able to focus, he starts to get you to breathe correctly, praising you with every other sentence. He takes the time to finally ask if you’re alright but usually waits to ask what happened until you’re further away from the place, not wanting to make you think about it while you’re still vulnerable; if it is a trigger that caused it.

Depression~

- David hates seeing and/or knowing that you’re upset but he doesn’t want to smother you. He isn’t an expert in mental health but he understands that you’re just going to have days where you feel like shit for no good reason and days where you feel alright.

- He doesn’t make a big deal out of your condition unless you disappear for a few days, mainly because he knows that there isn’t much he can do to make you feel better. He may be able to temporarily cheer you up but other than that you just have to fight it by yourself.

- When you do disappear for a few days, he’d visit you once the sun goes down, practically breaking into your house to; usually, find you in bed. He’d take a moment to fiddle with your things, watching you for a while before sitting down on your bed and jostling you awake.

- He’d brush the hair from your face, stroking your cheek and asking you how you’re feeling before either pulling off his boots and sliding into bed beside you or ushering you to get up and move a little.

- He’d ask if you wanted to talk about it, more so implying that he wanted you to more than anything though he doesn’t push it if you’re unable to or just really don’t want to.

- David has a way of making people do things that they wouldn’t normally do. Even if you think that it’s impossible for you or someone else to make you join the living; so to speak, you’ll be amazed at just how much he’s able to get you to do for yourself.

- If he managed to get you up then he’d suggest going for a ride on his bike, intending to get some adrenaline in you to; hopefully, get your blood pumping and give you a little more energy.

- David is good at keeping his emotions under control; he isn’t scared off by people lashing out at him, especially someone like you. While it definitely does bother him when you say things out of anger; usually things you don’t mean, he takes it in stride and understands it isn’t really you saying those things.

- Rant and rave all you want, he isn't going anywhere. Pushing him around wont work either; he’s going to stay until you wear yourself out and admit that somethings wrong, then he’s going to help however he can.

- He gets more sentimental and touchy when your depression flares up/when you’re feeling particularly low. There’s just something about seeing you feel so awful that makes him cherish you even more. It certainly helps having someone show you just how loved you are.

Dwayne~

Panic Attacks~

- Dwayne rarely lets you out of his sight so he notices when somethings off almost immediately. He’d watch you closely before softly asking you whats wrong, beginning to worry as you seem to be struggling more and more; though for your sake, he remains outwardly calm.

- He ushers you to somewhere quiet without another word or follows you closely as you begin to walk there yourself, practically pushing people out of your way.

- Although he isn’t a very hostile person, he isn’t afraid to get aggressive when people won’t leave you alone. He doesn’t have the patience to deal with any onlookers when he’s helping you, no matter what they’re there for.

- Initially, he would keep his distance, not wanting to overwhelm you with his presence though he’d immediately move closer if you wanted him to.

- Dwayne; like David, isn’t completely clueless when it comes to people experiencing panic attacks though he’s experienced in anxiety for a different reason: Laddie. While a little boy’s fear is far different than a panic attack, it does give your boyfriend a little leverage when it comes to dealing with scared people or people in a fragile state.

- He’d be rather good at soothing you, quietly assuring you that you’re alright and that everything is okay while you ride through the storm; though he does tend to keep his comments to a minimum, not wanting to add on to the ringing in your ears.

- He treats you very gently; unless you urge him to do otherwise. He see’s this side of you as very delicate and fragile, and doesn’t want to inadvertently harm you or make things worse.

- Once you begin to come to, he’ll ask if he can touch you, puling you into his arms as soon as you allow him to and pressing soft kisses to your forehead. He’d finally ask if you’re alright, the worry beginning to show in his voice as he checks you over closely.

- He’d insist on getting you a drink and maybe something simple to eat, helping you stand up and/or straighten yourself out. If you don’t want to move right then, then he would stay with you until you were ready to go, perhaps asking one of he boys to get you something while he stands with you.

- If it’s your first panic attack in his presence, then he’d insist on knowing all the details and how he can help when you’re more calm. You’ll never have to tell him twice, he memorizes it verbatim so that he’s prepared when you go through one again.

Depression~

- Dwayne is particularly good at knowing when somethings up. He can always tell when your depression has reared it’s ugly head no matter how good at hiding it you think you are.

- He understands what depression is though you’d have to explain some aspects of it to him. When you initially tell him about it, he’d immediately be concerned, assuming that something had to have happened to you, not that your brain could just... do that. He isn’t sure whether he should be glad that nothing serious happened to make you feel this way; it just feels like a rotten thought no matter how well-meaning it is.

- Since Dwayne is good at telling when things aren’t going good, you rarely have to suffer in silence. Though he knows that there’s often little he can do to help; he’s going to do whatever he can.

- Oftentimes, he’ll do things for you without even being asked nor thinking of it as a big deal; even if it is to you. He doesn’t expect any thanks or anything, he just wants to make things easier for you.

- He’d be incredibly patient with you, helping you go about your routine and taking care of you. He’d make sure you ate or drank something, get you to wash your face and put on some new clothes before attempting to do anything else.

- He would definitely lift you out of bed or wherever you were, carrying you off to do something that will help you help yourself. You may hate him in the moment but you’ll realize that it’s for the best later on when you’re feeling at least a little better.

- If there’s something Dwayne does best: it’s staying quiet. Yell, rant, rave, throw things; whatever you want to do, he’ll stand there and let you, though he has a tendency to wrap his arms around you and hold you until you mellow out. He’ll find a better way to help you release all that frustration, he doesn’t want you accidentally hurting yourself or causing someone to call the cops.

- He grows more protective over you when he knows you aren’t in a good head-space. He wants to make sure that no one takes advantage of or upsets you even further. Seeing you like this allows him to see just how strong you are yet also how... mortal; fragile in a way.

- While Dwayne does enjoy his usual nightly activities with the other boys, he doesn’t mind spending a calm night in with you either. Just want to sleep? That’s fine by him. Don’t worry about ruining his night or wasting his time; you could never.

- He isn’t much of a talker but you probably don’t mind. It’s nice having someone be there for you even if being there for you is just sitting with you for hours without any expectations. The point is that he’s showing his love and support for you and that’s welcome more than anything.

Paul~

Panic Attacks~

- You know when your pet knows somethings wrong and will start checking in on you, either worriedly peeking at you while keeping their distance or trying to nuzzle at you and get you to act “right”. That’s Paul.

- Paul isn’t the most observant so he won’t notice that something’s up until it’s pretty obvious, like when you get up and leave without a word or grab onto him. He’ll initially respond in his usual good-humored fashion before he sees your face or as you refuse to stop for him while he follows you.

- It’s when he realizes somethings actually, really wrong that his smile drops and he becomes concerned, trying to get you to talk to him and/or assure you that everything's alright.

- He refuses to leave you alone once he understands whats going on though he’s torn between staying by your side and getting one of the other boys who would actually know what to do.

- Seeing you so “upset” pains him but he forces himself to watch you closely while attempting to get through to and calm you down. He wants to make sure you aren’t dying which he completely believes is happening for like the first minute or so of your attack.

- He takes the same approach as a babysitter who doesn’t know how to stop a baby from crying; attempting to distract you with things and hoping something will catch your attention enough to bring you back to reality.

- Paul would be the most outwardly and internally worried. He’d panic himself though he’d try to remain calm in an effort to help you become that way. You know how hard it is to try and model how someone should breathe when you want to hyperventilate yourself? Paul now knows.

- He’d really want to hold you but wouldn’t push it; he’d immediately stop if you showed any signs of discomfort with it. He’d scoot away but would try to stay as close as he could, his hands itching to touch and physically comfort you.

- He wants to help in any way he can so you just say the words and it’s done. Whatever it is you need, he’ll get/give, no matter the cost and without question.

- Once you come to, he’ll keep calling you pet names, asking if you’re alright and cuddling up to you once you let him. He really wants you to explain everything but he lets you take your time catching your breath and really calming down.

Depression~

- Once again, Paul probably wouldn't immediately notice, especially if you’re good at pretending to be fine. It wouldn't be until you stopped answering your phone and disappeared for a while or broke down in front of him that he would finally see that something was wrong.

- He’d initially think that you hadn't been getting enough sleep because of him and his lunar cycle or that you were physically sick; like with a fever or something. He’d ask you if you were alright, feeling downright awful for you.

- You’d definitely have to explain it to him. Paul is the least likely out of all of the boys to know what it is or more so understand how it worked. Before you, he just thought that depression could only happen after something terrible happened like the loss of a loved one. Even after you explain it, he probably still wouldn’t quite understand but he’d understand enough.

- He’d still try to get to the bottom of why you’re upset; for lack of a better term, wanting to know the reason; if there is one, and how he can help you.

- He always innocently asks if you took your medication; if you do take any. He doesn’t understand exactly how it works but he does know that it’s meant to help you which is why he asks before trying anything else.

- His next course of action would be to drag you off and take care of you: brushing your hair, washing your face, getting you something to eat, dressing you in fresh, comfy clothes, etc. He’d be a little more serious than usual though he’d still keep his usual sweetness, a little smile always tugging at his lips. He doesn’t like seeing you upset but a part of him enjoys being able to take care of you, to be somewhat needed by you.

- If you just want to “sleep it off” then he wouldn’t argue with you. You know what’s best for you so sure, he’ll stay with you while you rest, holding you tight and taking the time to admire your features. He doesn’t mind doing nothing, he’s just happy being by your side.

- Please try to avoid lashing out at him, it breaks his heart. If you want to yell then he’ll take you somewhere no one will see or hear you. Get it all out and raise hell if it will make you feel better, he’ll do it with you.

- It certainly helps to have someone around who can momentarily cheer you up even when your body screaming at you to feel miserable. Even if he can’t get you to smile, having him around is better than surrounding yourself with things that will only make you feel worse.

- Every time he comes to see you when you’re depressed, he’ll tell you he loves you about a hundred times. He just really feels the need to constantly let you know, hoping that that will help you in some way.

Marko~

Panic Attacks~

- Marko acts before he thinks most of the time so he’s prone to springing into action without having any real plan. He won’t immediately understand why you aren’t looking too hot but he’s going to find out which may; initially, only succeed in making things worse from time to time.

- Once he realizes that you aren’t in any shape to explain things then he’ll soften his approach, coaxing you to calm down and telling you that everything's alright. It’s not far from what you’d do when trying to lure in a frightened animal.

- Though he’s seen a few panic attacks; being a bloodthirsty creature of the night and all, he isn’t experienced in handling or trying to fix them. Anytime he’s seen a panic attack, it’s over in a minute because he’s killed the person who’s panicking.

- He grows extremely protective of you, ensuring that no one comes anywhere near you while you attempt to calm down. He’s more than ready to threaten or throw someone if they won’t move away.

- Believe me, if he knew somebody had caused you to have to “go through that”, he wouldn’t hesitate to find them and get rid of them, even if they had no way of knowing. He’s furious once you can actually explain to him what happened.

- His go-to method of dealing with an attack would be to bring you to the beach and drag you into the cold water in an attempt to shock you back into reality. If he knows you wouldn’t want to completely go inside then he’d bring you to the edge, dipping your hands into the water or splashing some on your face.

- Once you’re alright, he’d pull you into his arms, defying the urge to hug you tight as he rubs your back. He’d assure you that everything's alright, maybe even cracking a little joke to try and ease the tension away though he’s still quite worried himself.

- He wouldn't push you to explain anything right then an there but he wouldn’t let you out of his sight for the rest of the night, checking in with you every time you seem just the least bit unhappy.

- He’d urge you to drink and would want to take you home, thinking it best to get you in bed instead of staying on the boardwalk or wherever else you are. If you refuse to go home; even after he tries to argue with you, then he’d reluctantly let you stay; though he’d relocate the two of you to a quieter area.

- Once he knows of your condition, he’ll try to keep you away from the more alarming situations the boys get themselves into; i.e. killing or aggressive adrenaline-junky activities, not wanting to spur another attack. He’d still be wary even if you explained that he didn’t have to worry about that sort of thing.

Depression~

- Marko comes to see you for a little while just about everyday so it wouldn't take him long to figure out somethings the matter. Why don’t you want to go out, why do you seem so tired, why does your smile seem forced, etc.

- He’d ask you if there’s something that’s upsetting you, just in case there was a reason but would understand if you don’t have one. After he gets his answer, he’ll ask you what you’ve been doing, mainly to see what needs to be done.

- It may be hard to imagine Marko at a library but he does his research once you tell him whats up. He’s going to understand whats going on with you and find out the best ways he can help.

- He’s used to running errands for the other boys so if you need something, don’t hesitate to ask him. He’ll never mind so don’t worry about inconveniencing him.

- If he knows that something will help you then he won’t take no for an answer, you can be annoyed with him or complain all you want; he doesn’t care. All he cares about is making your life better even if you don’t appreciate.

- If you need to take out some frustration then just let him know, he’ll take you to some junkyard he frequents and smash shit with you. He’s hot tempered himself so it’s best if you try not to snap at him; even though he knows it’s not “you” talking, he can’t help but get a little aggravated.

- Even if he can’t fix things, he can at least make you feel a little better, right? He’ll throw some comfy clothes at you, get you some good food and crack some light jokes in an attempt to make you crack; at least, a little genuine smile. Would seeing his pigeons help?

- He makes little deals with you when trying to get you in a better place. You do this and he’ll do that sort of things; compromises that seem pointless but put you on the right track.

- Want him to just hold you? How can he say no to that? He understands that it’s hard and that sometimes it’s best to take a long break; hide out from the real world for a little. Even though he usually prefers more wild activities, he can’t deny that he likes just laying with and cuddling you.

- He never lets you be too hard on yourself. Whenever you call yourself weak or “jokingly” apologize that he has to see you “like this”, he’ll tell you he loves you no matter what and to cut yourself some slack. You might not feel like you are but he thinks you’re incredibly strong and is rooting for you harder than you can ever imagine.

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years

Text

I... don’t know what comment to make about this chapter. Oh, uh? i got like maaaaybe an hour of sleep last night? not even? I read fanfics. @petrichormeraki

Grian ignored the other smp members as he tried to get through the portal. Stupid watcher form and stupid small portals! He just needed Tommy. Tommy needed to be safe. Mumbo wasn’t leaving so he would be safe, but Tommy was through this portal. That wasn’t safe.

He went through the portal himself, just leave him. No, obviously Philza pulled him in there. We are going a little crazy though, maybe it’s safer? No way!; We were protecting him, not Dadza. Should we even be calling him dadza? Watcher.; Release them from the portal. Is there any way to get smaller. I take back what I said about the 6 wings being cool, they’re just in the way now. Make one of the bots go there for him? If Jrumbot goes, he won’t be coming back. Lol yeah, he wouldn’t.

There were a lot of good suggestions, though two similar ones stood out. He could send someone through to get Tommy. Grian started to make another watcher portal to pull someone out, but then shook his head. No, why grab one of them? That wouldn’t be safe for Tommy. He closed the portal again, then looked around and grabbed Mumbo. The redstoner didn’t expect it and had no time to resist and now could only rest helplessly in Grian’s talons.

Grian plopped down on the ground to get better movement of his legs. For a moment things got even fuzzier. What did he have? Was it food? He moved it closer. Oh no, that’s Mumbo! That is not food. Why did he have Mumbo?

You idiot we need Grumbot. Is Grian okay? Guys, what if this is our fault? Mumbo can probably get us to Grumbot. DO NOT EAT THE MUMBO! Guys, it’s obvious why he thought Mumbo was food. Dude, say it and you might get banned. Watcher.; Release them from the portal. Lol I’m only joking. What if he just uses Mumbo instead of the bots? He can rebuild Grumbot if he dies. Dude, not cool. Noooo what if grumbot diesssss!

Grian briefly thought about opening the portal again. Grumbot wouldn’t like it if he got broken and Grian didn’t want to send Mambo there. Mambo. Mambo is a fun type of music. Is there any music around? That would be nice to listen to.

Aaand we’re losing him again. Is Zloy going to come fix this or what? Pixlriffs might instead. Guys, Caterpillar rave! Oh no what have you done! Boo chee boo chee boo chee bu.

Grian started dancing. The voices were making nice music. Oh and what was that? Mamb- Mumbo was saying something. “Grian? Are you okay? What’s going on?” That’s right, he wanted someone looking for Tommy! And Mumbo could do that, couldn’t he. So Grian put Mumbo through the portal. No the infinity portal. Why did he almost put Mumbo in the watcher portal. In fact, why was that there? He was supposed to get something from there right? Why did his head hurt so much?

Grian stopped thinking about that when Mumbo came back through the portal, but he didn’t have Tommy, so the Watcher pushed him back. But again he returned. And again and again and again! He couldn’t get Tommy back if Mumbo didn’t get Tommy. Wait, he was talking.

Grian focused on Mumbo as he spoke. “Grian, that portal that keeps appearing, did you put Xisuma and Tubbo in there? Yes or no.” Oh he was always so nice. He knew just what to do. “Yes. And. No.” Mumbo’s own voice came back.

“What do you mean yes and no?” Oh wait, how do I put it so you can answer. Hmm… Oh, maybe one at a time? Is Xisuma in there?” “Yes.” “Is Tubbo in there?” “No.” Mumbo rubbed his chin. “Okay, well, we still need Xisuma back.” Why did he need Xisuma back, he would just keep letting these enemies in. “Your form is a bit dangerous right now, and if you somehow killed one of us, there’s the chance we couldn’t come back.”

Grian scoffed at the idea. He wouldn’t hurt his friends. They were his friends! How could Mumbo suggest such a thing! But… Tommy probably had that fear. Maybe he had gone willingly because he was scared of that. Oh no what had he done! Grian opened the portal again and then flew into it.

Crumb had curled up on Iskall’s back and started to sleep. None of them had any idea how long they had been falling, just that slowly they had gone from one to two to four and now to seven. Iskall was projecting a game of checkers with his eye which two smp members were playing with to pass the time.

There was a noise, and everyone paused to look up, expecting to see someone new falling in to join them, but they were surprised to see Grian. The lack of gravity proved a problem as some smp members drew their swords and axes with enough force to actually start them spinning around. The Watcher stared down at everyone before speaking. “What is going on? I thought, well last I saw there were only four of you!”

“Grian?” Xisuma spoke up, hopeful about his lucid state.

“Right, this is a watcher plane!” He ignored Xisuma for the time being. I wish I could remember what I was doing before I came in here.

“Maybe you were here to get us out?” Xisuma spoke up again, getting Grian’s attention.

“Oh X, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean I literally don’t know since I can’t remember what I was doing just a minute ago. But yeah, getting you all out of here does seem reasonable and… oddly familiar. Probably just me trying to remember.

“Are you doing okay?” Xisuma asked, really taking in Grian’s form.

“Yes and no? I don’t know what’s happening. The other Watchers pulled me away to help me sort of figure out what’s going on, but it’s not the perfect method to let me know what’s going on. For all I know the moment I leave, I’ll try to throw you all back in here.”

“Woah, dat’s a giant bird man!” Crumb exclaimed, waking up from her nap. Grian looked down at her, cocking his head to the side.

“Hello there. I don’t think I’ve met you.”

“Oh! I’m Crumb! My dad is Sprinklez!”

“Sprinkles?”

“Jordan Sparklez. One of my friends from the vault days.”

“Right. Vault gods.” Grian frowned. “Never were a fan of them. Freaked me out when no one could see where you three went.” He then chuckled. “You know, if all of you were here, I would have thought it was their fault.”

“Yeah, well Antonio didn’t make it, though H did.” Iskall pointed to Hbomb, who waved.

“Well, that might do it. I can’t be sure but… once you’re out, before I can do anything more, you’ll need to shout out about it possibly being Vault gods. Zloy should see.”

“Zloy?” One of the smp members asked, making Xisuma look over at them.

“Grian Is a Watcher who just resides in Hermitcraft. There are Watchers, normally multiple, that watch every world. Grian’s told me that one named Zloy is a Watcher of Hermitcraft.”

Grian nodded. “Yeah, you guys have a number of them, but the one in charge is Gxrgeous.” Grian shook his head. “We’re getting off topic. I’ll grab onto some of you and the rest hold onto me.”

After everyone was situated, Grian flew them up and out through the portal he came in through in the first place. The sudden change of energy affecting him made him crash, sending most of the rescued people flying. Immediately, Xisuma was shouting into the air the message Grian wanted sent and just as he finished, he was grabbed again by Grian.

This was good. He got Xisuma out. Mumbo would be very happy. But wait, there are more people out. Why are they out too? They are supposed to go in the portal. They must have escaped when he was grabbing Xisuma. That wouldn’t do.

Grian tried to grab the others that were rescued from the portal, but a few of them followed Mumbo’s guidance to the infinity portal and escaped that way. Grian was upset, but ultimately it was fine. They were still gone. There were just two left to get rid of. This cat thing and one other person.

Isn’t that thing a shapeshifter? Oh, what if she turns into a giant cat? Small brain: Godzilla vs King Kong, Big brain: Grian vs shapeshifting cat. Cat vs bird will not go well. If grian is tweety and the cat is sylvester, he’ll be fiiiiiine. Hey, if it’s really Tommy’s friend, maybe it’ll also leave.

Grian stopped listening to try and grab Crumb before she could do anything more. Just before his talons could wrap around her, a form moved in front of her, holding a sword of some purple material. “Stay away from my kid.” They spoke. For a moment Grian was upset at the new opponent before realizing it would be much easier to get rid of these people with them now in the same place.

A portal formed behind Crumb and Sparklez. Grian could see as the cat noticed it and panicked, though her dad refused to talk his guard down. When the watcher attempted to push them in, he was stopped by Xisuma. “Grian, you need to stop.”

“You need to stop.” Grian replied, wanting the admin to get out of the way.

We kinda did just try to save X, so we don’t want to get rid of him again. Maybe these two are fine and we can just leave them. Why does that guy look familiar? Watcher; Tubbo. What kinda sword is that? Ah yes, I too call my cat my child. Again, isn’t she a shapeshifter?

Grian was trying to figure out why the voices thought this person was familiar. And why had someone mentioned Tubbo. Suddenly one idea popped in his head. “෦႑፩㍘¹١₁𝟘 ꘠❶᱑⓿౸۰༳๑ ႐Ⅰ㍘〇¹႞٠१ ౦Ⅰឱ꣠༠৴០߁” He asked, but no one seemed to respond well, most of them covering their ears. A few people cried in pain, but one stood out. Grian looked at Mumbo and immediately regretted saying anything. The mustached man looked like he was in agony.

Right now everything else could wait. Grian moved and grabbed Mumbo. Grian heard someone try to stop him, but this was important. He took to the air and let magic swirl around him until he was suddenly back at his mansion. The watcher ignored whatever Tubbo was saying to focus on the redstoner, hoping nothing too horrible would happen to him. “M-Mumbo…” Grian mumbled, worried about what might happen.

Tubbo moved closer and immediately Grian was ready to attack them. How dare he try to get closer to Mumbo! But then Grian saw how terrified he looked. Tubbo was Tommy’s friend. He cared for Tommy as much as Grian cared for Mumbo. Or almost as much. Grian… Grian should bring them back together. He needed to. Why did he need to? He didn’t question it and just grabbed Tubbo. The teen seemed to yell in fear, but the Watcher didn’t listen, just took the two of them back to the infinity portal.

Grian put Tubbo through the portal before sitting down in front of it. If anyone could bring Tommy back, it would be them. Their world wasn’t safe and Tommy would want to come back. So he would. It was just a matter of time.

Zloy mumbled as he looked at the documents Pixlriffs had brought. Vault gods weren’t common to deal with, but it would help explain why none of the Watchers could figure out what was going on. Zloy sent for someone to find Pritt since they had the most experience with Vault gods in recent times. The biggest event had been when three of Zloy’s hermits were taken by the Vault gods, but smaller events had occurred after that.

In an accident, they had tried to make claim to Grian, not recognizing his Watcher status. Immediately after that, they tried for Mumbo, but that was also shut down. He doubted they were attempting to go after Grian again, but at the same time, he knew there was some truth to their claim on him. Vault gods were powered by the voices that were channeled through a person. Everyone had the potential for that, some more than others. The three hermits had taken days to recover from the sudden silence that met them on their return. And Grian had always been hearing them. He had learned to block them out, but maybe that wasn’t enough anymore. And if it wasn’t a Vault god, what could do all this?

Dream got the notification of Tubbo’s return. Everyone was back. He could close the portal. But an idea crept up from the back of his mind. What if they tried it again? What if one of them built a new portal and it led to somewhere else. Using a Watcher was helpful, and Dream didn’t want to give that up.

The former admin turned to look at the still unconscious form of Tommy. He could try and use the connection to convince the Watcher to come here. Then he could close the portal. It would be perfect.

#hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #tommyinnit #grian #grian xelqua #watcher!grian #avian!grian #tubbo #mumbo jumbo #xisumavoid #crumbl #cuptoast #iskall85 #captain sparklez #dreamwastaken #still not a fan of how dream's persona eminates someone... problematic #zloyxp

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jadethest0ne · 3 years

Text

In need of Refueling, Chapter 1 - Start

Summary: “You?! Why would I trust you? You have brought me nothing but failure. Time and time again; nothing but disappointment!”

His father's words might have been a result of his possession by the White Bone Spirit, but whether or not they were his true thoughts, Red Son vows to prove them wrong. To do so he seeks to attain a power strong enough to destroy his father's immortal enemy. After all, he'd much rather throw fire at his problems.

Word Count: 902

Ratings/Warnings: Teen and up; injury, burns, angst and hurt/comfort, toxic thoughts caused by toxic parents

Notes: This fandom is just starting out and I don't see that many continuous fics for it out there. So I guess if I want to see one, then I'll have to make it myself! I hope y'all enjoy it! Big thanks to @painted-arachnid and @simplyfornardo for helping me bounce ideas off of them. And also thanks to @lemonsqueazie for providing me with "Journey to the West" lore. I don't know much about the original novel or other iterations, but I still tried to keep some things compliant with the lore. You should check all of them out, since they're really great content creators with neat ideas!

Read on AO3

———-

“You?! Why would I trust you?”

Red Son recalls his father’s words the day that the White Bone Spirit had possessed him and they had to be assisted by their own enemy in order to free his mind. He is trying his best to meditate and control his thoughts. He was never particularly good at meditation. He is much better with action than thoughts or words. Still, his analytical mind attempted to focus on the task at hand - trying to figure out a way to bring his father the glory he deserves. But these petty thoughts of that day keep coming back to him. He resists the urge to tug at the tails of his jacket, as he sits cross-legged in his room.

Yes, the Demon Bull King had been possessed at the time, but how much of what he said had been his inner thoughts? They had to simply be the ravings of a demon possessed by another demon.

“You have brought me nothing but failure.”

This is true though, isn’t it? The weather station, the race, the skeleton key - Red Son really had failed every time he tried to defeat that Noodle Boy and Dragon Girl on his own. He always needed help; rescue. He feels flames bristle at the back of his equally flaming red hair, and the tip of his pony tail twitches in the heat.

No! Red Son shifts his thoughts back to figuring out what to do now. He is an engineer; he works out difficult problems all the time! He’ll definitely think of something! He made his father’s armor! That’s certainly been useful! Ergokinetic absorption was such a handy ability - stealing energy to make energy, and the more powerful the substance, the more powerful his father would become! That was the first thing he had presented to his father when he was released from imprisonment beneath the mountain. His father had liked that. Perhaps Red Son could make another piece of armor or a weapon for his father that would be even better! It was the armor that helped give his father strength enough to combat the Monkie Kid! Not enough to defeat him though. And if he couldn’t defeat the Monkie Kid, he probably couldn’t defeat the Monkey King himself. And it was also that gift that allowed the White Bone Spirit the means to possess the Demon Bull King in the first place...

“Time and time again; nothing but disappointment!”

Red Son’s thoughts come to a standstill. His dark eyes blink open, staring at nothing. He has to remember to breathe.

Red Son squints his eyes shut, angry at the interrupting thoughts of his father’s words. But they weren’t his words. Right? He didn’t really think those things. He wasn’t a disappointment! He wasn’t a failure! He just needed to find the right way to prove that he could be useful to his father. That he could be strong!

Maybe that was the key! Some new form of strength! Some new power that Red Son himself could attain, so as to stop being the weak link in the chain of his family. For that he’d need some sort of ancient artifact or power source. That was what his parents seemed interested in anyway. Despite his numerous attempts at providing them with modern technological solutions like the weather station or even the internet, they seemed intent on focusing on older more “reliable” power sources. If that’s what they wanted, then Red Son would try to focus on that, too. Besides, going by the same logic of the very armor that he had made for his father, the older and rarer the item, the greater the power it could potentially hold. Perhaps it would even make him strong enough to help bring down the Demon Bull King’s greatest foe - the very one who had buried him in the mountain for hundreds of years.

That was it! If Red Son could defeat the Monkey King or provide his father with the means to do so, then he would surely be someone deserving to be called the son of the Demon Bull King! Red Son latches on to this thought like a lifeline, pushing down the echoes of his father’s words of “failure” and “disappointment.” Well, he would be neither of those things! Whether or not his father truly meant those words, Red Son would prove them wrong on principal.

He attempts to not get entirely carried away by some of his fantasies, however, with a bit of logic. Where to start? Who would know of an ancient power source and be willing to divulge such information? He couldn’t let his parents know. It had to be a surprise. He could present it to them himself. Perhaps even test it out first...

Habits die hard, and Red Son finds himself turning to the internet for answers. Just because he’s going to find an old school solution, doesn’t mean he has to completely forget about modern conveniences. Apparently the Demon Bull King family weren’t the only demons running around the city. There had been sightings of others, and hints as to what they wanted. But one demon in particular stands out to him. One who is highly dangerous, but incredibly ancient and would be the most likely one who holds the answers he is looking for. And he could find her lurking underneath the city.

It's a start.

next -->

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #in need of refueling #red son #demon bull king #princess iron fan #fic #fanfiction #lmk #my writing #jadethest0ne

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Ever in Your Favor, Chapter Seven (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: After the kiss, Rosé and Denali struggle to deal with their feelings while trying to reach the end of the Games.

A/N: Thank you so much for the feedback on the last chapter! It really means a lot, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter. Also, thank you to haiplana for letting me talk this one through with you.

*I know I made a general disclaimer at the start and in the tags, but I want to say that this chapter is probably more violent than the others, so please be aware.*

---

In the bakery, Rosé’s father has a giant rolling pin, and she feels like she’s been trampled with it ten times over. Her joints are stiff from days of shivering and her leg twinges when she walks. But she’s alive, and she’s grateful to be. She and Denali wash up in the stream, and Rosé savors the cool water on her sweaty skin, enjoys the sun warming her back. She tugs her shirt and jacket back on, stroking the lion pin. There was a time in that cave when she thought the pin wouldn’t get home, that she’d never feel the sun again. But she made it, and she’s going to go home and try to appreciate that, and tell her sisters she loves them even though they know.

And she can do that because of Denali.

Denali, who refused to leave her, who got leaves and water every day to keep her alive, who stroked her hair and whispered that everything would be okay when Rosé was too sick to believe it. Denali had kissed her without hesitation to save her life, and Rosé will never be able to thank her enough for it. For her life.

But part of Rosé feels awful about it. She knew, in theory, that their fake relationship might require kissing, even if a relationship is so much more than kissing. She pictured a little cheek kiss for their post-Games interview, but last night was something else entirely. It feels like she just used Denali, begging for a kiss so she could live. That was part of it, admittedly, but Rosé cares for Denali too much to just use her, and she wouldn’t have done it unless she absolutely had to. What if Denali hated it? What if she never wanted things to go that far? What if she hates Rosé? She needs to talk to her. She can’t push Denali away like she did after her first Games.

Rosé trudges over the rocks, stopping at Denali’s side. “Your hair,” Denali laughs, pointing to Rosé’s tangled mop of wet curls. “Forget the pin, that’s why they call you the Lion.”

“Well, some of us can’t braid our hair in five seconds, Miss Foxx.” Rosé glares at her, but she can’t help the laugh that escapes, and soon they’re both laughing, the sound so strange after days of fear, but also the most natural thing in the world.

“Okay, okay,” Denali gasps, holding her sides. “Let me do your hair.”

Rosé’s heart skips a beat. “Okay.” She shivers as Denali’s hands brush against her neck, fingers expertly weaving through chunks of hair.

“Much better,” Denali says, admiring her work.

Rosé recovers her breath, neck still tingling. “So, um, last night.”

Denali bites her lip. “I didn’t think you’d remember. You were pretty out of it.”

Rosé was out of it. Her skin was burning, her head was foggy, and all she remembers is an endless stretch of time where dreams melted together, and she has no idea what was real and what wasn’t.

But she remembers the kiss.

She remembers waking up and seeing Denali, feeling in her heart that it was real. She remembers telling Denali she loves her, the surprise in Denali’s eyes. And she remembers the kiss: cool lips melting over the feverish heat of her own, her heart racing until she thought it would burst.

And she remembers how much she liked it.

“That kiss was...memorable,” Rosé says.

Denali’s eyes go to her feet, to the sky, to anything but Rosé, and Rosé wonders if she said the wrong thing. What if she did something else last night that she can’t remember? What if Denali hates her?

“Are you...okay?” Rosé asks, voice low in case of cameras. “I know the kiss was a lot, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable putting you on the spot like that--”

“I’m fine. You didn't do anything we didn't agree to. It’s just a game, right?” Denali looks away again, cheeks bright red.

Rosé feels like she got punched in the throat. “I...right. Just a game.”

It is just a game. That’s all it ever was, all it’s supposed to be. A way to help even the odds. Of course that’s how Denali sees it; Rosé’s mumbled love confession was strategic at best and delirious ravings at worst. That’s all it’s supposed to be.

So why did it feel so real to Rosé? Why does she want to kiss Denali again, on their own time, in their own space? Why does it hurt so badly that Denali thinks it’s a game, that it’s fake?

Denali is gathering their stuff, and the arena comes flooding back, like a dream after days in the cave. A dangerous dream. Rosé needs to focus. They’re so close, and she can’t cost them the victory by being distracted. Whatever she’s feeling, whatever she wants, can wait until they’re back home. Denali is right. This is a game.

And they’re going to win it.

---

Denali guides them through the forest with purpose. She doesn’t know when things changed, but she knows, as they silently step over twigs, that they’re no longer the hunted, but the hunters. She feels the change in her, the tightness in her hand around the bow, the eyes darting around for tributes. They’ve been holding back, letting the others weed themselves out, but now it’s time to show what the Lion and the Fox can really do. She can’t afford to spare anyone like she did with Finn. Not now.

She keeps alert, no chance of getting caught off guard like she did in her first Games. She’s focused. She’s not thinking about her knee shattering last time, or the strange warmth in her chest when Rosé laughs, or kissing Rosé--

Her lips tingle with the memory, wanting it again so badly. She can’t. Not with their lives on the line.

Rosé points between the trees, where the District 8 tributes walk.

Denali pulls her behind a tree, holding up her bow and signaling that she’ll strike from afar. She aims her bow, pulling back on the string--

Something crashes into her arm, the arrow releasing into nothing.

“The hell?” A giant gray bird digs its talons in Denali’s arm, beak pecking at her face. She shoves the thing off her, only to see two more. Rosé gets one with her sword, and Denali sinks an arrow into the other’s neck. She sees more in the trees, but they seem to be holding back for now.

“These are the ugliest birds I’ve ever seen in my life,” Denali mutters, spearing the first bird that attacked her.

“Their scales look like that one dress Symone had you try on.” Rosé smiles. Her eyes shine with glee, and Denali can’t look away, because Rosé was so sick in that cave Denali didn’t think she’d see her like this again.

“Don’t remind me.” Denali groans. “Although you should not be talking after that zebra dress--”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the lovebirds.”

Their smiles are instantly gone, and they turn to see the tributes from District 8 scowling at them.

So much for a silent attack.

District 8 looks rough, torn clothes covered with dirt and blood, faces hollow, down to just the weapons in their hands. You’d think they’re easy kills at this stage, but Denali knows it's the opposite: they’re desperate, and have nothing left to lose, so they’ll fight to the bitter end.

“Long time no see,” Rosé says, and only Denali can detect the quiver in her voice, because she also knows this won’t be easy. They can stand around staring at each other all day, but they’re only delaying the inevitable. Denali forces away the memory of the District 8 woman nodding in approval at her knots.

The man grips his sword and leans forward, that tiny heartbeat of calm before a fight begins.

“You go left, I go right,” Rosé says.

“My left or your left?”

“They’re the same left, Denali!” Rosé cackles, and Denali knows purposely asking a stupid question was worth it just to hear the sound, and it carries her into the fight.

The man towers over her, but his longer limbs are slower. His sword slices across her arm, but she uses her speed to dart away from his strikes, sinking her spear into his chest.

But it doesn’t stop him.

He pulls the spear out and breaks it in half, and Denali is left facing his sword with nothing but a knife and panic flooding her chest. Things slow down around her, like when she’s in that hunting zone, and she knows the next move.

“Switch!” she yells to Rosé, and they spin around, back to back, before taking on their new opponents.

The woman’s spear is easier to block; the edges are smooth, and Denali only has to worry about the point. Denali dodges hits, and when the woman staggers back, Denali pulls an arrow from her quiver and fires in a heartbeat. The double cannon fire tells her Rosé succeeded as well.

They drop on the grass, panting as the adrenaline fades, and for a few seconds, they rest.

---

Barely five minutes after the fight, they find a body.

It’s the woman from District 7, dead eyes open toward the sky, mouth stained not with blood, but with berry juice.

“Poisoned by nightlock,” Denali says quietly.

She gets an idea, and pulls out the silver container they’d saved from the medicine delivery. She plucks berries from the bushes and drops them inside.

“I doubt we can trick the others with them, but you never know,” she explains to Rosé.

Rosé nods.

They’re at the final four.

---

It’s a quiet night.

They climb up a tall tree and settle on a thick branch, to keep an eye on what’s going on below. Neither of them is planning to sleep tonight, not with two tributes out there, ready to kill.

They’ve only exchanged whispers, not wanting to risk attention. There’s no way to discuss the kiss, and Rosé thinks maybe that’s a good thing. When this is all over, when they’re finally home, then they can talk about it. If there’s even anything to talk about.

Rosé’s stomach growls. They couldn’t find any food today. After those birds, every animal seemed to vanish into thin air. They’ll manage tonight, but how many more days are left? What if they can’t get any food at all? Rosé’s trying to calculate the odds when two parachutes land on their branch. She nudges Denali, who’s curled against the tree trunk like she’s part pine, looking so at home up here.

Denali takes one parachute and Rosé takes the other, and she gasps when she opens it. The first thing she sees is a cake, with white icing and delicate blue swirls. She’d recognize Lagoona’s handiwork anywhere. Next to it is a loaf of round bread, Jan’s favorite kind to make. There’s days worth of food inside too, and God, Rosé loves her sisters so much.

“From your sisters?” Denali asks.

“Yeah. What about yours?”

“Kandy and Kahmora,” Denali says quietly, wiping a tear. “I just--it’s nice, you know?”

“It’s like there’s hope again,” Rosé says, because she does know. The parachute must have cost a fortune with the Capitol fees, and it’s a reminder of what’s waiting at home, a reminder that happiness and joy are still out there. A reminder that she’s loved.

“Yeah.” Denali sighs. “I’m not even as close to them as I used to be. But it’s nice to know they’re still thinking about me. That they still care. That someone sees us as more than just people on TV.”

Rosé nods. To everyone else watching, they’re just people on TV. But to her sisters, to Denali’s friends, they’re watching someone they really know, someone they really care about. For all the stress of being in the arena, Rosé can’t imagine the stress of her sisters, watching her fight and nearly die through a screen, unable to do a thing to help when they’ve helped each other their whole lives. And to do it not once, but twice. Rosé imagines hugging them in a giant bear hug when this over, and burns with a new determination to get home.

“It makes me want to get back home,” Rosé says softly. “And maybe--maybe be better. Try to live more, I guess.”

“I get it.” Denali bites her lip. “Maybe we can still be ourselves after. Not let the Games destroy us.”

It’s what they talked about the night before the Games began, but it feels different now. Less a fear and more a hope. A hope that they can come out on the other side of this, together, and learn to live again. The last time Rosé did this, she was fifteen and terrified and desperate to get home. She didn’t know that the arena would change her idea of home, that she would spend years waking up gasping, expecting to see blood around her. The Games kept her in their grip, made her push away the people who cared about her. She suspects the same is true about Denali--she knows Denali and Jan drifted after Denali got back, that Denali only has Kandy and Kahmora over once or twice a year. But they’ve done this round together, been there for each other the whole time, and maybe they can try to live and heal together. She wants to stay close with Denali after this, wants to laugh with her sisters more, wants to find things she enjoys again.

“I'd like that,” Rosé says. "First thing when we get home, we're making our victory cake."

Denali grins, like sun after a storm. "Only if you let me show you this meadow in the woods."

"Deal."

“Let’s eat,” Denali says, and they eat with the joy this food deserves, passing things back and forth and teasing each other for making a mess.

They cut the bread, and then Rosé finds the note. She remembers their father showing them a special paper that could be baked into something. He said they used to be popular for wedding cakes. Rosé unfolds it, heart swelling at Jan’s handwriting.

Rosie,

You have some explaining to do when you get home! We want all the details on you and Denali! I knew she had a crush on you when we were kids, it’s about damn time she figured it out. Also, I don’t know how it took you that long to realize I wasn’t the one humming in that cave. I’ll cut you some slack because you were delirious and I love Denali, but I would never hum that off-key. Anyway, we hope you like the stuff. Lagoona says make sure you share the cake and don’t hog the whole thing. Please come home soon, okay? We love you.

Jan and Lagoona

Rosé doesn’t even care when her tears escape. She loves her sisters, and she isn’t embarrassed about it. Her eyes fly over the words several times, reading it in their voices, the words tracing paths on her heart. She presses it to her chest and pretends she’s hugging them, and only then does she fully comprehend the first few lines.

Jan thinks Denali had a crush on Rosé when they were younger? That can’t be right. Though if anyone would know, it would be Jan. She and Denali were best friends from kindergarten. But Denali hasn’t mentioned it, and according to Jan, wasn’t even aware of her own crush. But what if Jan is right, and Denali really does like her? But that wouldn’t matter, wouldn’t lead to anything unless--unless Rosé likes her too.

Rosé looks at Denali, eating a piece of bread, and her heart swells with the answer her brain won’t acknowledge. Rosé does like her, maybe even loves her. She likes Denali’s laugh, the warmth in her eyes, that wrinkle between her eyebrows when she aims her bow. She likes Denali’s humor, how she can always make Rosé laugh. She likes that when she looks at Denali, she thinks of home. This relationship was fake at the start, purely an attempt to improve their odds. But somehow, it’s turned to Rosé’s heart bursting every time she looks at Denali. She doesn’t know the last time she felt this way, about anyone--hell, after the arena, it was sometimes hard to feel anything. The hope when she looks at Denali used to seem impossible, but isn’t now.

It burns inside her, but it has to stay inside. Springing this on Denali when they’re in the final four is a distraction that could cost their lives. And she doesn’t have proof that Denali likes her--just the hope of an old crush. Not to mention confessing that she loves Denali for real will discount the relationship they’ve built for the arena, exposing them as liars. There’s no way to tell her now. It has to wait until they’re home.

They share the cake, and Denali wipes frosting off Rosé’s lip, and Rosé wants more than ever to go home.

---

They spend the day walking through the arena, and Denali’s shoulders are tighter than her bow-string. All this walking is giving her too much time to think. Time to think about Rosé, about the smile Denali would do just about anything to see. About how Rosé makes her feel safe enough to share things she wouldn’t tell anyone. How Denali wants to see her every day after they go home, wants to learn things about her she hasn’t discovered yet. But would Rosé want the same thing? Denali knows things have been hard for her since the Games, and what if things collapse without the arena holding them together? But she thinks of what Rosé said last night, about her hopes for the future. Maybe there is hope. Once they get out of here, and Denali stops thinking about how soft Rosé’s lips are, how nice it might be to kiss her again--

She stumbles on a tree root and swears softly.

“Everything okay?” Rosé asks, hands immediately flying to Denali’s sides to steady her.

Denali nods, praying Rosé can’t see how much she’s blushing, though her face is warm enough to combust. There’s no thinking of kissing right now. She’s about to lead them in another direction when she hears flapping wings. But there’s only a huge gray cloud in the sky, that can’t be--

“Run. Run now,” Denali says.

They sprint through the woods, the swarm of birds scratching at their backs. There’s no direction, just running away, and they only stop once they’re back at the Cornucopia, now an empty shell of scraps and bloodstains. And they’re not alone.

Both tributes from District 2 stand in the grass, loaded with weapons.

The birds have vanished, no longer needed after bringing the final four together.

This is it.

The end is close enough for Denali to grasp, close enough to feel the plush train seat bringing her home, to smell the woods of District 12. She doesn’t want to kill these two. But she wants so badly for this to be over, to go home, and she knows the price she has to pay for that.

“We can do this,” Rosé says quietly.

Denali nods, gripping her spear as they saunter to the other tributes. There’s no hurry, no point rushing the inevitable. She can imagine her friends and Rosé’s sisters glued to their TV’s, and Denali gives another nod to herself, a vow that they’ll win.

“The Lion and the Fox. At last,” says the man. Denali thinks his name is Cato, and the woman is Glimmer.

Rosé just pulls out her sword as Cato grabs his axe. There’s nothing to say, nothing that can change what’s about to happen. Two of them will win, and two of them will die.

“Do you hear that?” Denali asks, cutting through the tension.

“I don’t hear anything! Quit stalling, Fox!”

“No, I--” Denali gasps at what her hunter’s hearing had picked up.

Enormous wolves circle around them, growling and baring razor-sharp teeth. Even on all fours, they’re nearly as tall as her, with claws longer than her fingers.

“The eyes…” Rosé says, face paling.

Denali looks at the wolf closest to her, with shaggy tan fur. Its eyes are impossibly blue, bluer than the sea. She’s seen these eyes before, had watched them close one last time while Rosé hummed a lullaby.

“Finn,” Denali breathes. She doesn’t know how the Gamemakers created wolves with the tributes' eyes; she doesn’t want to know. All she knows is that she now needs to fight off not only two tributes, but twenty wolves. They’re probably the worst odds Denali’s ever seen.

Denali knows animals, knows hunting, and she pulls Rosé away a second before the leader signals the attack. They sprint for the trees while screams fill the air behind them, screams so terrible she’s grateful when the cannon sounds and puts Glimmer out of her misery.

Denali jumps for a tree branch but she’s not quick enough--a wolf sinks its teeth into her calf, her leg burning with pain as the wolf tears through it. Shifting her weight to one hand, she grabs an arrow and jams it in the wolf’s eye, hauling herself up after it falls. More wolves scratch at the tree, but she’s safe for now. She has to stop the bleeding but her vision is blurry—

“Denali, it’s okay.” Rosé holds her up, positioning them both on a branch. “Please stay awake, okay? Please. You have to tell me how to help.”

“Bleeding too much. You have to...stitch it,” Denali mumbles. “Stuff...in my bag.”

“Okay.”

Things blur and Denali’s only aware of Rosé giving her water and painkillers, of Rosé’s gentle hand on her leg, of the needle passing in and out. There’s more water, and food, and Denali opens her eyes to meet Rosé looking at her in worry.

“I stitched it,” she says frantically. “There’s probably stuff wrong internally, but it should hold until the doctors can fix it.”

There’s definitely internal damage; it feels like her last leg injury, and she can barely move her leg without an explosion of pain. Once they win, the doctors can fix it. As if on cue, the wolves retreat and the cannon fires, meaning Cato is gone. Relief and joy slam into her, overtaking the pain, and she reaches for Rosé.

“We won,” she says breathlessly, “we won.”

They hold each other in silence, hearts full of the relief of going home, of being together. It’s over, and there are no words. It’s over, and she can breathe again. She can live again, can create the future she wants.

“Where’s the victory cannon?” Rosé pulls away after a minute.

“Maybe--maybe it’s late. Or maybe we should get out of the tree,” Denali says, but trumpets sound as she hits the grass with a wince, and her stomach twists like snakes. Why is there an announcement when the hovercraft should be arriving to get them?

“The earlier revision has been revoked,” the announcer says cheerfully. “The rules hold that only one winner is allowed. May the odds be ever in your favor.”

Denali can’t move. She’s numb and cold and even the pain fades. She should have known. The Gamemakers were never going to let them both survive, not when putting two teammates against each other is the most dramatic finale in history. She wants to scream, wants to fight, but she can’t. All her talk about being more than just a piece of the Games--she played right into their hands, growing close to Rosé, believing they could have the futures they dreamt of.

Rosé is shaking beside her, shaking with fear and pure rage.

“Rosé,” Denali tries, but her mouth is too dry.

“I should’ve known,” Rosé spits. She tears her hands through her hair, breath coming in frantic spurts, vulnerable and undone. She's never seen Rosé like this, and it hurts her heart. “I should’ve known, I should’ve known…” Rosé trails into sobs, shaky hands clutching at her jacket like it can hold her together.

If Denali were to listen to the cold part of her, she’d see that Rosé is defenseless and in shock, an easy target. But that part was created by the Games, and it isn’t her anymore. After resigning herself to the cold for so long, Rosé has brought a summer’s warmth, and though the cold and dark still exist, it doesn’t mean there isn’t light.

“There--there has to be another way.” It’s what Denali’s built her life on, searching for new ways to help a tribute survive, to stop the Games from hurting her again. But none have ever worked.

“There’s no other way, Denali.” Rosé is still trembling, but she stands up straight, pointing below her lion pin, at her heart. “Just don’t miss,” she says, laughing bitterly, humorlessly.

“Rosé, what are you--I’m not killing you!” Denali shakes her head frantically, trying to calm her heart.

“You heard the announcement. It has to be one of us. I’d rather it be quick than get torn apart by those wolves.” Rosé sounds so small, so tired. She’s been cheated and destroyed by these Games before, and she doesn’t have it in her to do it again. She’s giving up, and that scares Denali more than anything, jolting her out of her numbness. She knows how much Rosé wants to live--they both do, talked about it together. The only way to live is to kill the other, and living with that wouldn’t be much of a life.

“No,” Denali says. “I’m not killing you. You have your sisters, you have a family. I don’t.”

“That doesn’t make your life worth less than mine,” Rosé says firmly. “You do stuff, I barely leave the house—“

“That doesn’t make your life worth less either. Look, if those wolves come back, you have a better shot than me. I’m not going anywhere on this leg.”

Rosé sighs. “You have to go home, Denali. You have to live.” Rosé’s lips twitch, and more tears fall. “I’m betting on you.”

I’m betting on you.

The words strike something in Denali’s memory.

Denali’s leg bounces as she waits to enter the launching room. In a few minutes, she’ll be in the arena after years of seeing it through the safety of a screen, and she forces in a strangled breath.

“Everything okay?” Rosé asks.

“Fine,” Denali says. Help with fighting is fine, but getting help for panicking is too embarrassing, even if it’s from someone she knows. Maybe especially because it’s from someone she knows.

Rosé obviously doesn’t believe her, but she nods.

“Wait.” Denali can’t keep it in anymore.

“What is it?”

“Rosé, do you—do you really think I can win?” Denali's convinced herself that she can win all this time, not thinking about whether she really believes it--because she has to believe it, because what’s the alternative? But she wants to know what Rosé thinks, to hear from someone else whether she really has a chance.

Rosé is quiet as she thinks. She’s only twenty, but her eyes are so much older, and Denali realizes that while she’s thought about the joys of returning home, she hasn’t considered the other parts. The parts Rosé has been dealing with every day for the past five years.

“It’ll be hard. I can’t lie about that,” Rosé says finally. “Most of the tributes are bigger, stronger. But you’re tougher. The audience loves you. They’ll help you, and don’t feel embarrassed about taking their help. And you’ve got talent. You’ve got fire.” Rosé smiles hesitantly, and Denali swells with hope. “So I’m betting on you. Denali Foxx, I’ll always bet on you.”

Denali Foxx, I’ll always bet on you.

Denali looks at Rosé now, looks at the love in her eyes, and--

Oh.

Denali understands now. Understands why she’s been thinking of kissing Rosé for days, why her teenage fantasy kissing partner looked like her. Understands why Rosé looks at her in such wonder. Understands why being around her makes Denali’s chest ache from feelings she hasn’t felt in so long. It's not a game anymore.

Denali loves Rosé. And Rosé loves her.

Losing Rosé would be losing part of herself, the part that still hopes. If Denali looks into those green eyes and fires a bow-string, part of her will never leave this arena. She can't kill Rosé, and she can’t go home without her either, can’t give up the future she hopes for with her.

It sparks something in Denali, an idea from the back of her mind. Maybe you can find a loophole, Jan said that day in the Justice Building. If anyone could, it’s you two.

“Rosé, I love you,” Denali says. No matter what happens, she’s not leaving without telling Rosé, without letting her know that the love is returned.

Rosé’s eyes widen, and Denali can tell she knows it’s real. That she really does love her.

“I love you too,” Rosé says.

“I have an idea. Do you trust me?”

“Denali--”

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” Rosé says softly, and it’s another way to say I love you.

Denali pulls the nightlock out of her bag. The Games need a victor, or this whole thing blows up in their faces and becomes the worst Games ever. If they can make the Capitol think there won’t be a victor, maybe, just maybe, there’s a shot.

She hands Rosé the berries, and she nods in understanding. “On three,” she says.

“One.”

Denali takes Rosé’s hand, memorizing the softness of it against hers.

“Two.”

Rosé squeezes back, squeezes with all the love and fight she has.

“Three.”

The berries reach their mouths, and Denali is wondering if the Capitol will let them both die when the trumpets erupt.

“Stop! Everyone, I’m happy to present the winners of this year’s Hunger Games--Denali Foxx and Rosé McCorkell!”

#rpdr fanfiction #denali foxx #rosé #rosnali #lesbian au #hunger games au #angst #ever in your favor #athena2 #tw violence #tw blood #concrit welcome

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minourp · 3 years

Text

Mermaid Au

I know I said this would probably be a one off idea but it invaded my dreams the other night so I had to write it out. It ended up being much longer than I expected.

Quick background: Most people avoid the sea because it's dangerous and unexplored. Rey is seen as an outsider because he doesn't stay away. Ty and the trux teamed up before meeting the others (for the same reason though).

~~~

It was a dim night, no moon to illuminate the inky waves. The boat rocked and swayed beneath Rey’s feet, a storm approaching. He hadn’t meant to stay out so late but there was this fascinating coral reef he had been cataloguing and lost track of time. He had hoped he could make it back before the storm arrived but the clouds seemed faster than him.

The wind picked up outside the cabin, salty mist spraying the windows. Rey steered the boat back towards the town. He knew exactly where he was going, he was practically his own compass. But something was fighting the rudder. Of all times for it to break, he thought.

The dark storm clouds began to block out what few stars were visible above. The only light now came from the small boat, though it did little to cut through the encroaching darkness. The waves were higher now, washing over the deck as the boat tilted back and forth. Anything not tied down was rolling around on the floor behind Rey. Fortunately that wasn’t much: It paid to be prepared.

It was a fight to keep the boat straight. Straying from his course now would mean being parallel to the oncoming waves. Being parallel meant capsizing. Capsizing meant… well, you know.

He heard a thunk below the ship. Now normally in a situation like this you pay little attention to “thunks”. It could be a number of things: something heavy fell over in storage, debris hit the underside, etc. However, when the “thunk'' is immediately followed by the boat course correcting itself, you stop and think twice.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Rey kept his focus on leading the boat back to dry land. Or at least he tried. Who wouldn’t be intrigued? Of course he couldn’t leave the wheel now so he was left to speculate.

And speculate he did. He couldn’t have hit a reef, this area was quite deep. Had he hit an animal? But that wouldn’t explain the ship steering itself through the storm. It just didn’t make sense. Rey loved a good mystery.

As if to interrupt his thoughts, the lights of the town dock broke through the rain. Rey quickly pulled up to it and wasted no time hopping out to tie the ship down. As he looked up, he saw a dark shape in the water. It disappeared before he could make it out. He shook his head and went to grab his bag before departing. The others wouldn’t be happy.

Within a couple minutes, Rey arrived back home. “Home” was relative of course, he considered the ocean his home. But for now, this apartment was where he resided with his friends. Speaking of, he hoped they had already gone to bed and wouldn’t notice his late return. He opened the front door.

“Well well well,” greeted a condescending voice. Waldo’s voice.

“Hello,” Rey greeted, stepping fully inside and shutting the door behind him.

“Where were you? We were so worried!” Conner cut in, instantly hovering right next to Rey. Ace also stood nearby, behind Waldo’s chair. So everyone was here.

“Nothing to worry about, I just stayed out later than planned,” he explained, taking off his jacket and boots.

“But the storm!” Conner objected, a clap of thunder punctuating his point and making him jump.

“I made it back safe. I told you, it is fine.”

Rey walked between them and headed for his room. Technically it was a shared room but they’d leave him alone in there.

“Those are dangerous waters.” Waldo’s voice followed him.

Once in, Rey shut the door behind him and turned on the lamp. He set his bag next to his bed and began to unpack. Today's research was the first to come out, the photos being carefully tacked onto his map and the rest filed in its place.

The map was of the local seafloor. Rey had taken to cataloguing and studying the various plant and animal life. Most people in town believed the nearby ocean was dangerous and mysterious but that’s what interested Rey! So much to explore and discover! He knew no one understood.

As he moved on to pull out some of his equipment, there was a soft knock at the door. He looked up as Conner entered slowly, closing the door behind him. A moment of silence passed.

“He’s right, you know.”

“Oh not you too,” Rey sighed, setting down his camera on the nightstand.

“Tonight you were lucky! What if you’re not next time?” Conner said, wringing his hands anxiously.

“I know what I am doing. Today was a fluke,” Rey assured, sitting on his bed to take off his damp socks.

“Well I still think you’re crazy.”

“I am? Conner, you are afraid of pinecones.”

“Everyone’s afraid of pinecones!”

“No one is afraid of pinecones.”

“Well they should be.”

“Goodnight Conner.”

“G’night.”

With that, Rey flicked off the lamp and laid down. He could hear Conner do the same across the room. On the far wall he could see his map, dimly illuminated by Conner’s nightlight. His eyes settled halfway between the new reef and home. Whatever had happened out there, he considered a mystery. And mysteries need solving.

~~~

The next morning, Rey got up as soon as the sun shone through the windows. Careful to not disturb Conner, he changed clothes and exited the room. Once out, he could see Ace in the kitchen. That’s a little… scary.

“Good morning,” he greeted, walking over to the kitchen island and taking a seat.

“Hey. I was just making some toast. You want some?” she asked, holding up the bread bag.

“Sure, thank you.”

“Yeah, just don’t tell Waldo. He’s convinced I’ll burn the place down.”

“To be fair, there was that one time--”

“That was an accident! I’m never gonna live that down.”

She facepalmed exaggeratedly, giving Rey a chuckle. He noticed today’s paper on the counter and picked it up, skimming through.

“So… find anything cool yesterday?” Ace asked, waiting for the bread to toast.

Rey paused for a moment. “I was checking out a new reef to the northwest. It’s ecosystem seems quite vibrant in contrast to the one closer by.��

“Probably from not being overfished.”

“Perhaps, but I would like to study it more.”

“You’re going back out there?”

“Well yes, there is… I do not know.” He tried to busy himself with the paper.

“What is it?” Ace pressed, suddenly intrigued.

“Nothing. It was probably nothing.”

“Probably?”

“It was nothing. I am sure of it,” Rey concluded, setting the paper down.

Just then the toaster went off, saving Rey from this conversation. Ace turned and plucked the hot pieces out, dropping them on two plates. She brought both plates to the island and grabbed some butter and jam. She took a seat next to Rey, drawing her plate closer.

They both dressed their toast and ate in silence. It wasn’t long before Conner came out and joined them for breakfast, choosing a plain bagel. With the counter full, he sat on the couch, legs carefully tucked underneath him. Before long, Ace started to rave about her latest project. Eventually Waldo emerged too, groggy as usual.

It wasn't long before it was time for Ace and Waldo to head to work. They both worked at an auto repair shop, owned it in fact. Waldo stopped on his way out and turned to Rey.

“You’re not going out again,” he started.

“Of course not. I am going job searching again like I told you,” Rey answered.

Waldo seemed unconvinced but left anyway. Rey watched him close the door and heard the footsteps fade out.

“You’re going back out, aren’t you?” Conner asked.

“Absolutely.”

~~~

As Rey arrived back at the docks, he could see his small boat still in place. It looked so dingy in this lighting. Still, it had gotten him through so much. He boarded and set his bag down in the cabin. Stuff was still strewn across the floor from last night.

Despite the unruly appearance, everything seemed in good condition. Everything but the rudder. How could he forget? He grabbed a pair of goggles and went to check it out.

He had put on a wetsuit before he left so he simply slipped into the water. He made his way to the back and found… seaweed? It was tangled around the rudder, restricting its movement.

It didn’t make sense. He had made sure to avoid the boat getting too close to shallow areas where this would normally grow, so how did it get here? Maybe it was floating along and just got stuck. That must’ve been it.

As he worked it off the poor rudder, he noticed it was a single length of seaweed. The two ends almost looked like they had been connected together in a loop. Odd. Maybe some kid on a beach had been playing with it before it drifted away. It certainly didn't seem native.

After successfully detangling it, Rey surfaced and climbed back in the boat, taking the plant with him. He didn’t want it getting lodged back in again. He untied the boat and made his way to the cabin to start it up. Moment of truth.

It started like normal and he was off. The small town disappeared behind him as he made his way to the open ocean. There was no evidence of how hostile the sea had been last night.

It wasn’t too long before Rey made it to roughly where he had been yesterday. He stopped the boat and let down the anchor. He stood on the deck, looking out at the open waters. Now what?

Honestly he wasn’t too sure how to proceed. It’s not like he could recreate the scenario. Something was telling him to come out here though. Maybe he should just have a look around. This area was mostly unexplored by him so far, as he normally stuck to more shallow waters.

Rey got out his diving gear and brought it to the deck. He began to put it on when he stopped. He felt like he was being watched. Out in the middle of nowhere though?

To be safe, he took a look around. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something dip below the side of the ship. Was he not alone out here? He approached the other side of the deck carefully, looking around. Nothing seemed out of place.

He heard an abrupt squelch and turned around to see the seaweed chunk slide over the side through the scupper. Something had pulled it over, it wasn’t near the edge before.

Rey slowly came back over and called out, “Is anyone there?” He was met with silence. “Hello?”

It’s probably just an animal, he told himself. Nothing to worry about. If it took the seaweed, it’s likely herbivorous, right? Perhaps it was a seal. That would be the first he’s seen around here. He needs to see this!

Rey quickly grabbed his camera and finished putting on his gear. He still couldn’t shake that feeling of being watched. Hopefully that meant it was still in the area. Once done, he sat on the wall and let himself fall backwards.

Now in the warm water, he looked around… and saw nothing. Had he scared it off? Disappointed, he began to rethink his plan. That’s when he noticed movement. Something was on the other side of the boat, its tail just visible beneath the hull. The tail did not resemble any seal Rey knew of. It was thick, pale red, and rubbery. In fact, it looked more like that of a… shark.

Okay, stay calm. Sharks don’t typically attack people unless threatened. Just get out of the water before it approaches you. But… sharks don’t swim vertically like that.

Against every instinct, Rey let himself sink deeper. The tail disappeared behind the hull. In its place was a face. A human face. The other person stared upside down at Rey with wide eyes. Rey froze. There was a person with the animal… shark… thing?

But wait, how was he breathing underwater? He must’ve just ducked under. Rey decided to swim around the short end of the boat and approach him. As he rounded the back of the boat, he saw the man had moved to the far end and was peeking around the side.

Head now above the water, Rey took his mouthpiece out. “Hello there.”

The man had risen to the surface as well, though still around the far end. Whatever creature was with him seemed to have swum around the far side too.

“My name is Rey,” he tried again, approaching very slowly.

The other thought for a moment, then answered, “Ty.” He had a slight accent Rey couldn’t place.

“Nice to meet you Ty,” Rey said, setting his stuff on the deck and hoisting himself up to sit on the edge where there was no railing. “You are welcome aboard if you like.”

“No thanks, I’m in a lot of trouble already.”

“What trouble?” Rey asked, suddenly concerned.

“I’m not supposed to talk to… you guys.”

“Me? Why not? Did Waldo put you up to this?”

“Who?”

“You are serious?” Rey asked. He nodded. “Then who told you not to talk to me?”

“My friends say you are dangerous. I don’t think so though.”

“I’m not dangerous though…”

“And I’m sorry about last night.”

“Last night? What--”

Rey heard something breach behind him and turned to look, seeing an unusually blue dolphin’s tail land back in the water. When he turned around again, Ty was gone. Rey stood up, looking all around.

“Ty? Where did you go?” he called, but to no avail.

Maybe the others were right, he concluded. Being out here is frying my brain.

[1,897 words]

#dinotrux #mermaid #fanfic #debating maybe continuing this or also rewriting the same events but from Ty's pov

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thorne93 · 3 years

Text

Long Lost Love (Part 6)

Prompt: Clint just lost everything. He turns to you – an old friend and an old flame – for comfort. Can you keep your old feelings at bay? Can he?

Word Count: 2611

Warnings: The Snap, grief, loss, mentions of abuse throughout series, angst will be the best friend in this fic

Note: This was written after IW, but before Endgame - so I have my own take on how certain things happened. Couldn’t have done this without @arrow-guy @carryonmyswansong @like-a-bag-of-potatoes (my amazing betttaa!) @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

Aesthetic by @dontshootmespence

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

When you awoke the next morning, you were filled with a mix of wonder, hope, and worry. You wondered if Clint would regret his actions and reject you. You wondered if he’d feel guilty or ashamed. You didn’t know how he’d react at all. You only hoped that he felt happy that he did what he did last night.

You made your way downstairs to find him making a big breakfast, whistling, with a towel over his shoulder as he prepared breakfast.

“Morning,” you softly said.

He turned and greeted you with a dazzling smile. “Good morning.” He came over and kissed you again, quick but firm and earnest. He went back to cooking.

“Making breakfast I see, need a hand?”

“Nope, I’ve got it. It’s almost done,” he assured.

You smiled, relieved that he was in a good mood and didn’t appear to regret anything.

The two of you worked on the farm all day together and he was nothing but smiles. You couldn’t figure out what had triggered the change in him, but whatever it was, you were thankful for it.

Time marched forward and the two of you seemed to fall into an easy rhythm, almost as if you’d never parted ways all those years ago on that train station platform. One night you two had a board game night to celebrate a hard day’s work. You played Scrabble with the rules that real words were not allowed, but for every word you made, you had to come up with a definition. You did this with every board game in the house. Real rules were thrown out, new rules were in. It was the most fun you’d had in… you couldn’t even remember how long. The two of you were in stitches the whole time until somehow you wound up on the couch, holding each other all night.

Another night, you two had smores, a small campfire, and both of you laid down, looking up at the stars.

“Well, this snap didn’t do anything good, at all, but if there’s a silver lining, the stars are a lot more visible with less people,” you mentioned.

“Pollution has dropped quite a bit,” he agreed. “It also helps to be in the middle of nowhere on a farm with one building that has lights,” he added.

“That too.”

“I’m glad I get to see it with you.” He took his hand and laced his fingers with yours and you felt your entire soul warm to the touch.

“Reminds me of being out at night after our acts,” you reminisced.

“Yeah, we always seemed to wind up in some amazing places,” he concurred.

“Every place was amazing so long as you were there,” you said.

So far, you and Clint hadn’t labeled what this was. You hadn’t addressed it directly since that first kiss. Part of you was terrified to say anything. That if you called attention to this, it would somehow wake him up from an illusion and he’d break it. He’d see that this wasn’t actually what he wanted. He would see you were Laura’s poor replacement, a rebound, a distraction, a coping mechanism.

You just didn’t want to face what was probably the truth: he didn’t love you - he loved the idea of you.

Allowing your fear to continue to rule you, and not let it take this precious time from you, you didn’t bring it up. You didn’t question why he wanted you now, you simply accepted it and graciously took the gift of having him be yours again.

But, when you said things like this, things that danced dangerously close to those three little words, you were afraid it would trigger the response in him you were trying to avoid.

He simply responded by saying, “I couldn’t agree more.”

It was reassuring… for now.

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

One evening, while the summer air was very cool, Clint took you to a nearby water tower. He said the view was breathtaking and considering he had zero fear of heights, it made sense that he’d visit it. You followed him up to the top, and sat there, agreeing that looking out over the country side looked absolutely stunning. Of course, your fear of heights was vacant as well, because every now and then you had to do acrobatic work in the circus if you wanted to survive.

The two of you sat and talked, drinking beers, talking about nothing in particular for the longest time. After a moment of peaceful quiet, suddenly, Clint said, “You know, I wouldn’t mind seeing the team again. I know I call them off and on, but it’d be nice to actually have them back at the farm, at least once. Just to see their faces.”

You turned your head towards him, holding onto the railing as your feet dangled off the side. “I think that’s a great idea, Clint. If you want to invite them, I think you should. They’re your family after all. I know Nat would love to see you, and I know you’d love to see them.”

“You sure?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah. It’d be good for all of you. Not to mention, I’d like to properly meet them. I’ve done a few random patch up jobs for all of them but I’ve never said more than ten words to all of them.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I think you should meet them. You mean a lot to me and they mean a lot to me, it only makes sense to have all of you together.”

“I can make a big meal for everyone,” you said, delighted. “Fried chicken, some desserts. It’ll be a good time.”

“I think they’d love that,” he agreed. He seemed to be perking up more and more with every second you two talked about this. “I’ll call them first thing. How does this Sunday sound?”

“Any day is perfect,” you assured. “Just make sure I have enough time to get the house cleaned and to make a grocery run.”

“Will do.”

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

Clint called his team and two weeks later, they were at the farmhouse, the whole group of them. Rhodey, Natasha, Steve, Tony, Pepper, their baby Morgan, Thor, and Bruce. They came early on Sunday morning and Clint introduced you to everyone.

He didn’t go into any detail about your past or your present situation. He merely said he had called you up because you were an old friend from the circus that was a vet so you knew your way around animals and the farm.

Thor seemed to be… putting on a show. You could tell he was careful not to let his smile fall unless he thought no one was looking. Tony and Steve seemed slightly tense, but with the way the world was they were trying to look past their issues.

You gave them all a moment to talk alone for a while. You and Pepper sat out on the porch, playing with baby Morgan and Lucky, talking casually for a while. Inside, you could only assume Nat, Steve, and the others Clint was closer to talked about Laura and the kids. You assumed they discussed the snap and more detail on what actually happened. You also assumed he expressed his deep regret for not going to help them.

Everyone greeted you and welcomed you with open arms and when it was time to serve lunch, everyone raved about your food. Thor and Bruce couldn’t get enough of your fried chicken. Pepper complimented you highly on your sparkling strawberry cake. Rhodey said he needed the recipe for your mac and cheese.

The entire day was spent just talking. It weaved in and out of sorrowful talk of who was gone and what had been done to try to think of ways to get everyone back, to what everyone was up to lately. Steve headed up a therapy group in the city, which made sense. Rhodey and Natasha were working almost round the clock to help police the world of any dangers. Tony, Pepper, and Morgan were just enjoying the closest thing to Tony and Pepper being retired as they could. They had a little cabin a little ways from the city on a gorgeous piece of property with a lake. Thor was working with his fellow Asgardians to rebuild their society somewhere off the coast of a Scandinavian area. Bruce had been recruited to work on ways to get resources efficiently.

Everyone was doing what they could to keep society going, to get it back to what it was, to try and not remember all the loss everyone faced every day.

Conversations flowed for a long while, well past dark. It was nice having so much life in the house and you loved seeing everyone. It was no wonder he loved these people. As dinner neared a close, you got up and started cleaning up. Everyone tried to pitch in to help too, but you simply waved them off, telling them you had it covered. Pepper refused to take no for an answer, as did Rhodey. You said they needed to spend time with Clint, but both of them said that the others should really spend time with him.

Clint said he’d get out of the way then and they went outside to the porch. Nearly everyone had a beer in hand as Tony, Steve, Nat, and Bruce followed.

“So, uh, what’s up with Y/N in there?” Tony asked in a hushed tone as he turned to face Clint. The group of them stood in a circle facing each other.

“What do you mean, Tony?” Clint asked, feigning ignorance as he stood there with his arms crossed.

“I mean, what’s the deal? You said you knew her from your circus days. You still keep in contact with all your old circus buddies?” he pressed, knowing Clint despised his past and never talked about it. The only reason any of them even knew about Clint’s past was because they’d read his file.

“No, I don’t keep in touch with anyone but her. She was the only good thing to come out of those horrible elements.”

“So she’s your oldest friend, then,” Thor suddenly said.

“You could say that, yeah. We grew up together…” he replied. All of them could tell there was more he wanted to say, more to say, but he stopped himself.

“Alright, come on, let’s give the guy some space. He’s been through enough,” Natasha tried, wanting them to drop it. Clearly he wasn’t comfortable.

“Well, whatever she is to you, if she makes you happy and keeps you sane, then I’m glad she’s here,” Steve encouraged with a half smile.

“Thanks, Cap,” he said with a head nod. “Yeah, I… When that all happened, I really thought I was just going to lose it. I sat here and stared, not knowing what to do next. Lucky snapped me out of it, but if I didn’t have him, or these animals to care for… I tell ya, my mind went to some dark places. Y/N keeps me grounded though. She helps me on good days and bad.”

“That’s good to hear, man, we're happy for you,” Bruce said.

“We really are,” Nat agreed.

“I’m not gonna say I’m not happy for you, I am,” Tony said, but there was clearly a punchline coming, “but I gotta know, what is the deal? Did you ever date or think of dating Y/N? She seems perfect for you. Knowing each other for all those years, in those conditions, and now she’s back in your life? That’s some heavy stuff man.”

“Tony,” Nat started, her face dropping down before smiling, “I think Clint loves her, but he’s too afraid to admit it right now.”

“That so?” he asked, seeming amused. “I’ll be damned.”

Clint looked at Nat with an unreadable expression. He was half-glad that she said it and he didn’t have to. He was also worried what his friends would think of him, loving you after what happened to his family.

“I don’t want you all to think I don’t love and miss Laura, I do,” Clint started, looking at all of his friends.

“None of us think that, Clint,” Steve assured, but he pressed on.

“You gotta understand, I loved Y/N when we were kids. We were teens. We had that teenage love, you know? It never went away. We never grew out of it. We had to run from our life in the circus, we thought it would be safest if we split up. We said we’d get our lives back on track… Life… life had other plans I guess and I met Laura. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to us, buddy,” Bruce said.

“No, I know. I think I’m trying to assure myself. To remind myself I’m not a bad person for loving her. She and I… we have history. Being with her… it’s all I ever wanted. It’s what I wanted for years, and now in a sick twist, I can have her. I feel guilty about it, I do, but we love each other, and I don’t see any good reason to deny ourselves of that. I mean, it may be awful to say, but Laura’s not coming back.” Tears filled his eyes and he started to break down before the group came to the rescue and consoled him with hugs and rubbing his back. When he got calmed down he said, “So I just… I don’t see a reason to put off happiness, you know?”

“We get it,” Nat stated, nodding her head with a sympathetic smile.

Clint nodded, wiping his face. “I’m glad. I’d hate for you guys to think I’m some awful human.”

“Awful for wanting to be with someone you love?” Steve asked, perplexed. “If I could have Peggy back, I’d take her in a heartbeat, no matter how the universe brought her to me.”

“Yeah, take it from Pep and me, we wanted to start our family. The world is in shambles but we’ve waited long enough to start our lives together,” Tony said.

“We’re the last people on earth to have any right to judge and at the end of the day, we just want you to be happy,” Nat informed sweetly, squeezing his shoulder.

He smiled and looked up at his friends. “I love you guys, I really missed you.”

They all smiled back at him and they each hugged. They all needed it more than they knew.

Eventually, the team came back inside and Pepper and Tony packed up Morgan and everyone started saying their goodbyes and loading into cars. Natasha was the last to leave, giving you both hugs.

“Thank you, for taking care of him,” she quietly said as she wrapped her arms around you.

You peered at her, confused at first before nodding. “Of course.”

She hugged Clint and kissed his cheek. She waved to you too, ordered that you call her more often, then got in her car and drove off.

The two of you smiled at each other and held hands as you walked in.

“That was a really nice day,” you said happily.

“Yeah, it was. I’m so glad we did this. Thank you for all you did and encouraging me to invite them,” he said as he put his arms around your waist, holding you close.

“Anything to see you happy,” you informed.

“I know, that's why I’m so lucky to have you.” He planted a firm kiss on your lips and then you two went off to bed, separately.

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

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#long lost love #clint barton x reader #clint barton fic #clint barton #hawkeye x reader #hawkeye fic #hawkeye

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bouwrites · 4 years

Text

Maribat March 2020 Prompt: Soulmate

Week 4, Day 2. This story has been previously posted in response to @theatreandcomicfreak‘s prompt here. I’ve done some minor editing to it, but if you’ve read that already, there’s no significant difference. I’m simply reposting the story in a better format to fit within the guidelines of this Maribat event, so that I can more easily link each story together as a group.

Maribat March 2020 Calendar.

Day 1: Sweetheart’s Dance, Day 3: Coffee Shop.

Ao3.

2133 words. Story under read-more.

Marinette has always been a princess. She likes the nickname. Likes being treated like one. Likes the meaning behind it. She’s not so unusual in that way. After all, how many young girls dream of being princesses? Even she can admit that the number of Disney movies alone Marinette has watched over and over again is a little ridiculous. And since her soulmark appeared, Marinette understandably never quite left behind the princess phase. After all, proudly curving on the back of her neck, almost hidden by her hairline, in clear script, is the word “Princess”. The thing her soulmate will call her. She’s not demanding or spoiled or anything like that, or she tries not to be, but that doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy feeling like a princess now and then.

She’s comfortable with her soulmark. It’s not the most uncommon thing, and her having a preference for more established nicknames means she knows from a young age that she’s bound to run into some confusion somewhere down the line. The whole, “are they or are they not?” thing that happens when people use nicknames for friends that just happens to align with their soulmark. She knows it’s coming, so she’s comfortable. Prepared.

She gets a little too comfortable, truth be told, but she learns to hold her tongue. Some people can be like Chat Noir, making up nicknames for everyone, their originality driving them through the cloud of the most common terms of endearment on soulmarks. Marinette is creative enough, and she used to do the same thing, but she learns better now. That leaves her in the other pool of people, who try not to use nicknames much at all, to avoid confusion.

Once you say something, there’s no taking it back. One affectionate “Chaton” and her crime-fighting partner thinks she’s the love of his life. But he never calls her “princess”. He never uses her mark-name. It doesn’t even occur to him to. Marinette takes this as proof that he’s not her soulmate after all, but whenever she tells him this, he just thinks up another nickname to call her.

It’s not frightening or even annoying so much as it is simply awkward. With an everyday friend, that may not be such a problem, but with her partner? They aren’t on the same wavelength, all because of a stupid mark-name. That’s dangerous.

Marinette learns to hold her tongue. Sure, a mistake in everyday life may not have such potentially severe consequences, but even so she’d rather avoid insistent men on her case in her civilian life if possible. Chat Noir is no problem, because Marinette trusts and likes him, but he does teach her a lesson on how some people may react to the wrong name. Nicknames, for her, end up reserved for only her closest friends, if that. The change isn’t as hard as she thinks.

Princess. Marinette can’t help the violent flinch that overcomes her at the name, but Chat Noir doesn’t seem to notice. He keeps going on showboating for her. Princess? Really? Is this a joke?

There’s no other explanation. It has to be some grand cosmic joke. The punchline to the greatest show on Earth. Because Marinette knows Chat Noir isn’t her soulmate. She knows he likes to make up nicknames, but never once has he called her “Princess”.

Marinette uncomfortably touches the mark on the back of her neck, disguising it as simply rubbing it awkwardly. The bold lines spelling out that word. Princess. What… Chat Noir calls her?

Marinette doesn’t have time to think about this. She has an akuma to take down, and with it targeting her as a civilian, she has to be at the top of her game. Chat Noir can wait, soulmate or not. At least for now.

It makes sense, to some extent. If Chat Noir has only not called her princess because his soulmate isn’t Ladybug but Marinette. But then what about him? She called him Chaton while and because he is Chat Noir. Marinette would never even think of calling someone that who isn’t moonlighting as a cat. But then, does that prove that they are soulmates? Or does it prove that they aren’t? Surely someone other than her will call him Chaton. It’s not exactly a hard place to reach, once they learn of his alter ego.

Yeah. Marinette thinks. It’s just a coincidence. Calling some damsel “princess” is just like him, anyway. It should be more surprising that he hasn’t until now. Marinette holds her hair up with one hand and a mirror with the other, examining the mark. Right?

“Tikki?” Marinette reaches one hand up into the air, idly grasping at nothing as her mind consumes her.

“What is it, Marinette?”

Marinette worries her lip, unsure if she can or should ask the question on the tip of her tongue. It takes a few stumbling attempts, but she ends up closing her eyes and asking what’s on her mind. “Why would I have a soulmate that I don’t love?”

Tikki is quiet for long enough that Marinette is tempted to sit up and look, but she refrains. She’s not sure she wants to see the expression on Tikki’s face.

“I just-” Marinette tries to explain. “Chat called me it. Princess. And I called him Chaton. That means we’re soulmates, right? But… I do- I don’t… I’m not sure I love him like that. He’s my best friend, of course, but… I just don’t see him as a… soulmate. Am I broken?”

“Oh, Marinette! No, no you’re not broken at all! Don’t you ever think that about yourself.”

“Bu-”

“No! I said, don’t! There’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t even know for sure that he is your soulmate, and even if he is, there’s nothing wrong with having a platonic soulmate! You don’t have to be in love to be soulmates!”

Marinette mulls over Tikki’s words. They echo in her head and roll in her mouth. “But… he loves me.”

“You’re both still so young, Marinette. Give it time! I’m sure things will become clear sooner or later.”

Now, Marinette does sit up. Tikki is smiling earnestly at her, the optimism and confidence in her eyes too infectious for Marinette to resist her own smile. “You really think so?”

“I know so!” Tikki says firmly. “Everything will be okay.”

The school trip is unexpected, in the sense that Marinette all but forgets about it. She knows she has a part in planning it, of course, and she does her part with aplomb, but all of that was set in stone so long ago that with everything else going on, from Hawk Moth to Chat being her maybe-soulmate, it totally slips her mind.

Not to mention how she almost doesn’t go at all. She has a city to protect now, after all. She can’t just go on vacation.

Master Fu solves that problem for her, though, and Marinette finds herself oddly relieved that Kaalki has such a convenient power. Time away from Hawk Moth, even if she is still on call, is just what the doctor ordered. Maybe, without all this outside pressure, she can sit down and figure everything out once and for all.

Plus, it should be fun. A visit to the Daily Planet with Alya in tow alone will make this trip to Metropolis more than worth it. That’s not even starting on all the other events, tours, and activities they have planned. It’s very exciting, and Marinette almost wishes she isn’t so distracted just so she can properly enjoy her classmate’s raving about everything they’re going to do in America.

She’s sure she’s missed some very entertaining discussions. Maybe Alya can catch me up?

“Woah, careful there, princess.”

Marinette freezes at the unexpected touch on her shoulders. She’s a hair away from taking this guy to the ground, but then the situation catches up with her and she barely stops herself.

Pole in the middle of the sidewalk? Threat. Cute guy who has just saved her from slamming face-first into that pole? Probably less so. Also, Princess?!

Marinette examines the guy warily. Black hair, unkempt like he’s just been through a wind tunnel, bright eyes furrowed with concern, muscular arms leading to hands that have still not removed themselves from her shoulders. She shrugs him off, never tearing her eyes from his. She knows how suspicious she must look, and the way he wilts under her stare makes her think she should probably tone it back a bit, but still.

She knows that mistakes happen. She knows Chat might be her soulmate. She knows the likelihood of it being some random passerby in America isn’t exactly in her favor. But he has to be sure. “Princess?” She echoes, more testily than she means.

The guy clears his throat awkwardly. “Ah, I- I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from, I just- I saw you weren’t looking at the pole and I-”

“You what?” Marinette pushes him just for fun, because he’s so flustered, but she can’t help but smile. The bite leaves her voice, replaced with sarcasm. She hopes he can hear that it’s friendly. “Thought you’d save the princess? Eh, superman?” The boy flushes brilliantly, scratching at his neck as he looks to the ground. “I can take care of myself. A little pole isn’t going to hurt me.” She teases. “Thanks, though. You did save me this time.”

The boy chuckles awkwardly. “Ahaha, you’re welcome! Hey, uh, my name’s Jon! I… I’m not sure how to say this, I, uh…”

Now, Marinette knows mistakes happen, but she can also read a situation. The way his cheeks stay color as he bumbles through his introduction, the way he holds his neck a bit too reverent to be sheepish, the way his eyes go wide when she calls him “Superman”.

Jon takes a deep breath, apparently composing himself. “Sorry, I… that was super awkward. Um… You called me superman. That’s, uh…” He ducks down a bit, turning so that she can see the script on the back of his neck. “My mark-name. Also, weird, but, whatever. So, I was wondering if maybe princess was yours?”

Marinette chuckles and pulls her hair aside, turning so he can see her own mark. In the same exact place. Most soul-pairs have their marks in the same place, so that makes this seem more likely. Even still, Marinette has had false alarms before. This seems more legit than any so far, but…

But the way he lights up at the sight of the mark. That stops Marinette’s breath in her lungs. “It is!” Jon cheers. “I can’t believe it! It’s really you!”

Marinette calms her heart and tries to rid her face of the damn soft look she knows she has. “Maybe.” She says. “I’ve had a close call before. This looks legit, though, so… no promises, but maybe we can… I don’t know. Get coffee or something?”

“Yes! Yeah, sure! I’m- I am so down for that!” Jon grins from ear to ear. “Get to know each other, and then decide if we want to trust the mark-names or not?”

“Exactly.” Marinette says. “If you’re okay with that?”

“A hundred percent! I totally understand being cautious. Uh, here! Let me give you my number. You can let me know when you’re free? Unless… you are now?”

Marinette ducks her head to hide from the intensity of his gaze. It’s so… adoring. Not like Chat, not in the depths of love way, or the confident way he claims her as his. It’s in an optimistic way. In a hopeful, nervous way. It makes her chest flutter, and she can’t help but hope, too. “I’m actually in the city on a class trip. We’re having free time right now, so I’ve got, uh,” she checks her phone, “a couple hours.”

“Great! I know a good place to get coffee just around the corner. And, if you want, I could show you around a bit? I know the city pretty well.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Jon guides her to the coffee shop, awkwardly drifting close but carefully keeping his hands off of her. It’s cute, watching him want to grab her hand or throw his arm over her shoulder, but Marinette appreciates that he doesn’t.

She can’t be sure from one conversation and a couple of mark-names, but Jon seems just as likely as Chat to be her soulmate. Is he? Is Chat? Marinette ducks away from his eyes again, brushing her hair behind her ear as that single glimpse makes her stomach somersault. It’s impossible to tell from this meeting alone, but if the feeling in her chest is telling her anything, it’s saying to give this a chance. Maybe that’s all she really needs.

#MaribatMarch2020 #Maribat #Maribat March #Event #Marijon #ML x DC #ML Fanfiction #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #theatreandcomicfreak im not really sure its appropriate to @ you on this #but its either that or linking to you #and linking feels like #sneaky somehow

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before-we-get-started · 3 years

Text

My Favorite Mistake

Pairing: Colin Shea x Reader

Word Count: 3525

Warnings: Fluff, angst

18+ Only!

This is my first fic on Tumblr, feel free to leave comments. I’ve read so many great stories by so many fantastic writers, I aspire to write something as entertaining as what I have the joy of reading by my favorites :)

Image by pinterest.com

“You sure you don’t want to meet us later? We should be done with dinner by 8.”

“No thanks.”

“Y/N, you haven’t been out in weeks. You can’t just stay in that apartment all the time. Put on that cute black dress and meet us at Rave’s.”

You pulled the blanket up higher around your chin, making sure it covered your socked feet on the coffee table. “It’s ok, I really appreciate it but I’m really comfy here. I’m gonna check out a new series on Netflix.”

Your friend sighed through the phone. “Ok. Call me if you need me, ok?”

“Thanks,” you said, ending the call and tucking the phone under the blanket in your lap. It was 7:30 on a Friday night and you were alone, a pint of Ben & Jerry’s serving as dinner as you surfed the TV for something good to watch.

It had been exactly three months. Three months since your heart was shattered, three months since you thought your world had ended, three months since you’d allowed yourself to enjoy anything. Everyone warned you, including a few friends that had traveled the same road. Colin was trouble. While everyone agreed he was dangerously sexy and incredibly handsome, everyone knew that for Colin, variety was the spice of life. He’d even told you that he tried one time to settle down with someone, and it was so painful when it ended, he would never do it again.

That didn’t stop you though. You’d never forget the moment you’d met him – you were moving in to apartment 6C in a gorgeous, historic building in Boston. It was your first place of your own – your folks were so proud of you and helped you get moved in. On day 3 in your new place, your world changed. You were stepping out your door for work when your neighbor in 6A opened the door to grab his newspaper. He was naked but for a flowered bathroom towel that he held to keep his privacy. He was tall and lean with defined pecs, muscular arms, spiky blonde hair and blue eyes that reminded you of the ocean. And then he smiled, a million watts reaching across the banister to your apartment. “Good mornin’ 6C. I’m Colin,” he’d said in that delicious deep voice. Somehow you’d managed to squeak out your name, trying hard to breathe and keep walking. You had to pass him to get to the stairs, trying not to trip and fall or make an idiot of yourself.

“I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around,” he said as you made your way down the stairs.

“I hope so,” you’d replied, your voice sounding stronger than you imagined. A corner of his smile turned up and he gave you a little salute as you headed downstairs.

True to his word, he’d knocked on your door that night with a bag of Chinese food and you’d invited him in. You played hard to get that night, even though the four beers and those blue eyes nearly broke your will. But on Friday, when he knocked again, you didn’t even make it through the tacos he brought over. Before you knew it, you’d gone from deep kisses on the couch to your bed, where you fell asleep wrapped around his body after hours of incredible sex.

When the sun came up that Saturday morning, you blinked your eyes as you awoke, looking up at the most handsome face and long eyelashes you’d ever seen. You’d kissed his cheek, then peppered his neck and shoulders with kisses, releasing him from sleep and encouraging him to take you again. You’d wrapped your legs around him and he’d carried you into the bathroom, where you ran a hot bath and the two of you snuggled under the bubbles for an hour.

The next few days you were inseparable. As soon as you got home from work, he was there. Most every night he stayed in your bed. More than once you’d watched the glow of the sunrise on your bedroom walls as you and Colin couldn’t get enough of each other’s touch. You’d watched some movies, binged a couple of shows, and shared the kitchen preparing some of your favorite recipes.

You’d also talked, and talked, and talked. You told him about your ex, the guy you thought was “the one,” even though you certainly never felt for him what you did when you were with Colin. He told you about Allie, who had lived in your apartment before. He’d fallen hard for her and thought maybe he should think about settling with one girl, but she’d broken it off suddenly, and later he learned she’d eloped with one of her exes. The hurt in his eyes had been unbearable.

That night you’d made it your quest to make him forget her – he’d called your name more than once and you’d held on to him tight, kissing him with enough passion to wipe out the sad memory of her.

There was something so thrilling about being with him. Most of the time you didn’t have a plan, and you loved how each time with him would unfold. You’d spent a few evenings listening to your favorite tunes on the roof of the building, dancing under the moonlight. Colin was always working on songs for his band. He’d strum the guitar and you’d listen intently - you’d even helped him with lyrics on a few.

One night Colin texted and told you he had plans and wouldn’t be able to see you. You’d texted back and told him to have a good night, happy to find him waiting at your door the next night after work. A few times he’d left to spend then night at his apartment. You’d noticed he’d checked his phone and figured he had something on his calendar for the next morning. You’d mentioned him to your girlfriends and gotten more than one eyeroll.

“How many of you have slept with Colin?” your friend Jenny asked your friends at a bar one night. A few raised their hands. “I’m not stupid,” you’d responded.

“I know he likes girls. We’re just friends with benefits.” The words came out, but you knew they were a lie. You were in love with him. Head over heels, heart and soul, forever and ever in love with him. You were in love with a total player who made it his goal to sleep with every girl in Boston.

And so, on the morning of the 6-month anniversary of your first evening together, the truth had reared its ugly head. You’d spent the night before at your parents’ house after having dinner with them and had run home to get ready the next morning before heading to work so that you could bring him a gift. You’d picked up his favorite cannolis from the local bakery. You knew he was probably still asleep so you hung the bag on his door and texted him to check when he woke up. As you left for work, you heard a giggle across the hall. A girl opened Colin’s door and peeked around the edge, grabbing the bag of cannolis from the doorknob. You heard his laughter behind her as she closed the door.

You froze. You couldn’t catch your breath. Your knees were weak. Tears burned at your eyes. The next few moments were a blur. You marched over to his door and knocked softly. You heard a rustle, then he was there, bare chested, wearing your favorite ripped jeans.

“I hope you two enjoy your breakfast. I’m glad I went out of my way to bring it to you on a day that at least means something to me.” You turned on your heel and rushed down the stairs, ignoring him calling your name. You’d broken down on the train, dabbing at the tears to try and save your makeup. The older lady next to you patted your arm as you pulled yourself together.

Your phone had dinged all day. Text after text from him, none of which you read. You were upset, but mostly mad at yourself. It was your own fault. He had told you himself that monogamy wasn’t his thing. But it had been impossible not to believe he felt something for you every time the two of you came together. The way he looked in your eyes, the way he held you so close, the way the two of you were entangled for hours on end. Could it really not be more than just sex?

That night you’d stayed with a friend, leaving from her house the next morning for work. You’d left work early and slipped into your apartment in the afternoon, changing into his t-shirt and climbing into bed. You’d slept through to the morning, trudging in for another day at work. You couldn’t help but wonder what was happening behind his apartment door. It was unbearable to think of him holding someone else, kissing them the way he kissed you.

For weeks, you’d managed to avoid seeing him. More than once you’d heard him come home, then heard a soft knock at your door, but you didn’t answer. There were so many text messages. “Good morning Y/N. Hope your day is good.” “Good night, sweet dreams.” Worst of all, lots of “I miss you” texts that made you want to open the door the next time he knocked.

You wanted to see him again. You wanted to just accept that you’d take what you got from him and be happy with it. But knowing that you might be his Thursday and another girl would be his Friday was just too hard. How could he kiss you in that spot on your throat that drove you crazy, and then do the same thing for someone else? How could something so intimate not mean more to him?

So for three months, you’d been miserable. Friends had tried to set you up on a couple of blind dates, your mom had even tried to introduce you to one of your dad’s associates, but you just weren’t ready. And now you were sitting home on a Friday night, wrapped up in frumpy sweats and a blanket, feeling sorry for yourself.

You didn’t know exactly what got into you but you threw the blanket off and headed for the bathroom. You peeled out of the sweats, turned on the curling iron and grabbed your makeup bag. In 20 minutes you’d pulled on your favorite little black dress, applied makeup for an evening out, curled your hair and grabbed your beaded clutch. You slipped on your strappy high heels and headed for the door. You’d text your friend and let her know you’d be at Rave’s to meet them.

As you opened the door, you stopped cold. Colin was in front of you. He had on gray slacks and a pale blue button up shirt, the first three buttons open. His hair was styled, the thin silver chain of his necklace and the tattoo on his chest peeking out from his shirt. His ocean blue eyes lit up when he saw you. He held a bouquet of roses in his hand. You smelled the musky scent you loved so much.

“Hey,” he said shyly. “You look amazing.” He licked his lips as he looked you up and down.

You went from startled to smug in a few seconds. “I’m on my way out,” you said. “Meeting some friends tonight. Mind moving out of my way?”

He hesitated but stepped aside. You brushed past him, looking over your shoulder at him as you rounded the banister.

“Y/N, I really want to talk to you.”

“Not tonight,” you said confidently, descending the stairs.

The club was rocking when you got there and the girls were all glad to see you. You took advantage of all the free drinks they were supplying and did your share of dancing, including a couple of slow dances with hot guys that were knocking each other over to flirt with you. When one asked to walk you to your Uber, you agreed, and took him up on making the ride to your apartment.

He’d taken your hand as you ascended the stairs to the 6th floor, chatting and laughing all the way up. You fished in your clutch for your keys when you heard the door behind you open. Your escort put his hand at the small of your back and pulled you in for a kiss just as Colin peered out. You opened your eyes just as he started to close his door. You saw that sadness, the same sadness you’d seen when he’d told you about his broken heart.

Your escort started to turn the key but you stopped him. You thanked him for walking you up but said you needed to call it a night. He gave you another kiss and you exchanged phone numbers, then he headed down the stairs.

You let out a huge sigh as you stared at 6A. You thought the night out would help extinguish the fire but it continued to rage inside you. You walked over and gently knocked. You held your breath as you watched the door knob turn.

“Hey.”

“Can I come in?”

He pulled the door open a bit more so you could step in. He stood still, looking down at his feet. You pushed the door closed.

“Why were you dressed up tonight?”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I had a date.”

You felt your heart sink a little. “Oh. How’d it go?”

“I don’t know.”

You cocked your head a little. “You don’t know?”

“Nope.”

You shook your head a little. “Why don’t you know?”

“Didn’t happen.”

You blew out a sigh, a little frustrated. “You had a date, but you didn’t have a date.”

“Right.”

“Ok,” you said. Maybe it was a mistake coming over. You turned towards the door. “Well, sorry to bother you, just thought I’d say hi.”

“Don’t you want to know why it didn’t happen?”

You sighed. “Sure, I’ll bite. Why didn’t it happen?”

He stepped toward you, then put his hands on the small of your back, pulling you closer. “I went to ask her and she was on her way out.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and looked into those ocean blues. “Where’d she go?”

“I don’t know,” he said gruffly, “but she didn’t come home alone.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, “wonder if he likes cannolis?”

He looked down for a minute, something flashing across his face. Guilt, maybe? To his credit, he met your eyes again. “I’m sorry.”

You’d hoped to hear those words for so long. You hoped he’d at least acknowledge that he’d hurt you.

“I was an ass. Easily the most asshole thing I’ve ever done. And that’s saying a lot. I’m sorry.”

You let out a quiet chuckle. “Definitely a move that will get you in the Asshole Hall of Fame.”

It was his turn to laugh and he met your eyes again. “I was scared,” he said.

“Scared? Scared of what?”

“Of us,” he said.

Your eyebrows scrunched in surprise. “What do you mean?”

He let out a huff of air and squeezed your hips a little tighter. “You and I, we were really good. I got so used to being with you. Everything about you made me happy. And I got scared. I tried feeling that way before and it broke me. I had to put some space between us.”

“So you let some bimbo eat our anniversary cannolis?”

He laughed a little, dropping his head and shaking it. “Yeah. I know. I’m a shit.”

“Yep,” you said, popping the ‘p’ loudly.

“I tried to talk to you. Tried to apologize. I texted, came over a few times. It was clear you weren’t interested in hearing what I had to say. So tonight I decided to step it up.”

You felt tears burn at your eyes. You wanted to stay strong and blinked them away. “I did something incredibly stupid,” you said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I fell in love with you. Even though everyone told me and everything inside me knew I shouldn’t, I did. All of those times being with you,” you said, your eyes glistening with tears. “All of those kisses, all of those touches, they meant something to me. More than just hooking up. I let myself believe they meant something to you too,” you said.

“They did,” he said softly in that deep, sexy voice. He lifted a hand to your face, cupping your chin and gently touching his lips to yours. You closed your eyes, soaking in the feeling. You pressed your hands to his chest. He deepened the kiss and you instinctively let your hands slide up his neck, burying your fingers in the hair there, pulling it a little between your fingers. A soft moan escaped him as he pressed his body closer to yours. He dropped his hand to your hips again, pulling you so close you could feel him through his jeans.

Sirens sounded in your brain. You were letting yourself fall down this hole again. You knew how hard it had been to climb out. You gently pulled out of the kiss, licking your lips and rubbing the tip of your nose on his.

“I can’t,” you said, a tear escaping your eye.

He pressed his forehead to yours, pulling his hand behind your head and caressing your soft hair. “Y/N.”

There was no sound like that of your name on his lips. It was like music. You felt yourself shiver as you fought with everything you had not to melt into him.

“I want more than you do. It’s too hard. It’s not your fault, it’s just how it is. This – hurts,” you said, a soft sob escaping.

“I want it too.”

You felt a sad smile cross your lips. “Not like I do Colin. I want all of you. Everything. I don’t want to share. I don’t want you to touch anyone else.” You gently ran your hands up his chest. “I don’t want you to kiss anyone else,” you said as you pressed your lips to his. “I don’t want you to find that special place on anyone else,” you said, pressing your lips to that place on his neck that drove him wild. He growled deep in his throat, encircling your waist with his arms.

“Y/N,” he breathed.

“It’s ok,” you said sadly. “I was lucky to have you while I did. Most people don’t get to feel what I felt with you.” You ran the backs of two fingers down his cheek, letting yourself dive into those eyes. Every inch of you felt warm.

“What if –“ he started, then hesitated. “What if we start again. And I don’t fuck up this time.”

You let out a low laugh. “You’d just be setting us up for failure. It’s ok Colin. I don’t –“

His fingers circled your wrists and he covered your lips with his. “It’s not ok. I hurt you.” He kissed you again, this time a little deeper. “It took me seeing you with someone else to really get it. I’ve missed you so much. But seeing you tonight – I just ache. Please tell me we can try again.” He smothered your mouth with his, sucking gently on your bottom lip. “Please Y/N.”

You tried taking a breath but it caught in your throat, your heart beating wildly. You’d be a fool to do this again, put yourself out there for more. How did that saying go, insanity was doing the same thing over again and expecting a different result?

“Colin –“

“I love you.”

You blinked at him, certain you’d just imagined it. “What?”

He smiled, that smile that could light up the entire city. He gently pushed a piece of hair behind your ear and let his fingers linger on your earlobe. “I,” he said, kissing the tip of your nose. “Love,” he said, pressing his lips to the apple of your cheek. “You,” he said, locking onto your eyes with his, then gently kissing your lips. “I love us.”

You leaned into him, burying your face into the side of his neck, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m afraid.”

He pulled you to him, stroking your hair, a hand at your lower back. “I know baby,” he said. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s ok. I’ve got you.”

You let yourself melt into him more. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to let go. “What if – what if you get scared again? What if I’m not what you really want? What if you wake up one morning and look at me and realize I’m a mistake?”

You felt his chest rumble with a little laugh. “Trust me baby, you’re my favorite mistake.” He pulled back and kissed you, and you let yourself melt into the love of your life.

#what-is-your-backupplan-today #captainsteveamericarogers

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tragedybunny · 4 years

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The Blade’s Edge - A League of Legends Fanfiction - Chapter 17

Hello Lovelies, I hope you are all well in these times. Out of sickness and moving house, I bring you this chapter.

❤Tragedybunny❤

They had a simple arrangement. She was the weapon to be used on his enemies. Things get more complicated when emotions bleed into what should simple. Now the two of them find themselves on the precipice of something that was entirely unexpected.

I stretch and make a note on the report in front of me, the last of a small mountain that had occupied most of my desk, well the desk I poached from the downstairs study. I determine that ultimately it contains nothing of consequence to the Empire. It puts forward that the rebelling mages put an end to Jarvan III, a conclusion that I find open to doubt. Rebels whose very existence was outlawed in Demacia would have seen much more value in the King as a bargaining chip or at least executed him very publicly. I imagine something else is at play. Unless their leader really is the raving madman the Crown Prince has painted him as. Ah Demacia, that veneer of justice and mercy is starting to wear off. I wonder… no, that belongs in the past.

We should dig deeper into what befell this last Jarvan, we might even find out before the newest Jarvan. I carefully lay out the orders in a code, wax seal it, and put it on the pile to be dispatched. At my feet, Skadi stirs and makes an excited chirp startling Bea who digs her claws into my shoulder and caws angrily. Jericho had infuriatingly been proven right about the challenges of keeping the two of them in the same house. I wince but stroke her head, trying to calm her. “Come in Rowan.”

The door to my parlor turned office opens and Rowan glides through, cloak billowing around them. “How did you know it was me?”

I look down as Skadi hurtles across the floor, a black and red blur, to collide with their legs, leathery tail whipping back and forth. “She never growls when it’s you.”

They bend down and acknowledge her with a quick pat which sends her trotting happily back to my side. Rowan slides into the chair across from me, tactfully averting their eyes as I move the reports out of sight. “She certainly has grown quite large in just a couple of months.”

“She’s also a pain in my ass.” Papers stowed, I pull her into my lap, which Bea mercifully tolerates. “And how are you, Rowan?”

“Quite excellent, that hidden library in the Bastion is yielding many interesting insights and mysteries. The Mage’s Council is eternally grateful to the Grand General for the unfettered access to it. It sounds as though he has fared well against this rebellion?”

“As you would imagine. Most of their number broke and ran as soon they realized who they were up against. He’s been chasing down stray bands of them but it would seem a good number have faded back into their former lives.” Skadi suddenly tilts her head up to lick my chin, a habit she’s developed that I imagine Jericho is going to despise. To his credit, he had tried to conceal his dislike for drake hounds but it didn’t take long before it was obvious. I don’t understand why he agreed to me keeping her at all.

“And yourself, is the recent promotion agreeing with you?” I note they’ve been fidgeting with the sleeve of their robe since they sat. Typical of life in Noxian High Command, something more is at play.

I stand, firmly holding Skadi, and Bea vacates my shoulder. “The weather is lovely, let’s walk and talk. I’ll show you my garden.” That should be far enough from any eyes and ears that could be curious. Moira, to her credit, rules the staff with an iron grip, but Gwen’s spy ring has taught me how dangerous their disloyalty can be. Rowan nods and follows my lead out into the hall. “I hate this damned promotion! Between overseeing a contingent of warmasons and leading the Guild I spend most of my time doing dull administrative tasks.” I can’t even admit to them that Inara is mostly running the Guild while I scramble to keep tabs on all of Jericho’s pawns, allies and enemies alike. When he returns I’ll have to have words with her, she’s been spikier than usual and seems to be avoiding me. I navigate the stairs with Skadi in my arms, she still has trouble not tumbling down them, and set her down to bound along behind us. “And I still think it has more to do with earning my husband’s favor than anything I’ve done.” Summer has just settled over the Capitol and the windows all stand open to ease the stifling heat.

“Perhaps, or perhaps your capabilities are greater than you estimate. I’ve heard no complaints about your performance.” Rowan has developed quite a few ties in High Command with their place in the Mage’s Council, and they’re not shy about exploiting that for information.

Silence falls as we pass through the house and finally we reach my long sought after prize. The garden, now reclaimed, is an explosion of color, order carefully disguised as chaos. It seems like a wild space, a forest clearing somewhere far from the harsh steppes of the Noxian homelands, as long as you ignore the benches and fountains.”How do you like it? I didn’t want it to look overly fussy.”

They think for a moment as we continue to stroll. “Perceptive choice. You make an excellent Lady of the House. Perhaps you can even host that trade delegation from Piltover”

I turn to glare at them and see the smile they don’t bother to conceal. “You’re not the first to think this a joking matter. You’re just lucky I’m fond of you and won’t consider stabbing you for it. And don’t remind me of the god's forsaken mess that is Piltover.” We come to a stop and I notice Bea perched in the branches above us. She hasn’t strayed far since Jericho left, she must really feel his absence. “I know you’re not here for tea and gossip or to see this garden. What really brings you here?”

We’re finally out of earshot of the house, a small tree blocking us from view. They lean down to use a hushed tone anyway. “She came to see me. She’s plotting something, I can tell. She was making not so subtle overtures for my allegiance.”

I narrow my eyes. She’s getting aggressive with Jericho gone, but this is more proof of his suspicions. Maybe even something that can finally be acted on. “Keep her dangling?”

“I played neutral, yes. There’s more though, I’m hearing constant rumors, she’s recruiting others. There are possible traitors everywhere, even among your own.”

I think of all the Guild’s potential recruits that have vanished, our numbers still thin, likely an intentional move. I didn’t miss the tense look of General Talus when she promoted me, giving me rank in Intelligence I hadn’t earned. It makes sense now, my loyalty to the Trifarix is somewhat guaranteed. The irony is that the threat is from within the council itself. “Keep what mages you can loyal. And if you can get any word of her sanguinary friend moving outside his little Crimson Cult, make it a priority.”

“Of course. And I’ll await the Grand General’s return with fervor, ready to be of any use I can.” They look down suddenly, eyes wide. Skadi is happily chewing on the hem of their robe.

“Bad girl, stop that.” I lean down and scoop her up “Apologies, we’re still training.” I grimace, cheeks flushing.

Rowan laughs, a musical sound that’s been said to enchant. “Worry not, this is the least of our problems. I will be in touch, dear Katarina.”

Once I see them out I return to the daunting stack of reports. They have a strict deadline of tomorrow morning, I’ve already put them off as long as I can. Currently, I oversee our warmasons to the far west, mainly Demacia and its immediate neighbors. This intel isn’t used for direct military action, yet. We predict where they will intervene, where the Empire can use it’s warhosts most effectively. Although, with all that has happened, I imagine Demacia’s military will be occupied for some time. I can’t say they don’t deserve this with their foolish and backward attitude toward magic.

My mind wanders to Rowan’s warning, the danger is growing and she’s outed herself as the one behind it. If she were mortal I would have slit her throat long ago. She ensnared my father, caused his death, and now she threatens my…, my husband. I look down at the ring on my hand, still an unbelievable thing to behold. He was right about the necessity, it’s been an endless task to keep our circle of allies tight and make sure his presence is still felt in the Capitol. There is the nice little reward of my critics being forced to refer to me as Commander Swain with the sourest looks.

I pull a fresh sheet of parchment from the desk. I haven’t written lately, he’ll probably be looking for an update. Not that he’s been consistent about writing me back, it seems one for every three I write. I should really chide him about that when he returns.

Rowan came to see the garden today. He had some words of wisdom on its care. I’m hosting Argos and his new companion for dinner, let’s see if she’s more entertaining than the last. Bea is well, she’s adjusting to Skadi quite nicely. Noxus celebrates your triumphs and I’m confident you will bring a decisive end to these rebels soon.

Seemingly nothing but domestic babble, I trust him to know what I mean. Rowan came with information, Argos is still loyal, and I’m still managing everything as he would like. I keep them brief since I know he’d prefer to not have excess information to sift through. I tuck it into an envelope and set my personal wax seal on it. One perk of my position in Intelligence is being able to send my letters with official military dispatches.

There was never any doubt that Jericho’s Warhost would crush the rebellion. While not as legendary as the Trifarian Legion, it would be foolish to underestimate it. Really any army could have sufficed with him at its head. I have to admit, I regret I didn’t get to join this campaign. I’d rather be at his side, slitting throats for him, than here reading reports. Damn it, I really miss him. Even if he manages to keep things between us nebulous still. It doesn’t change how I burn for him to be back home beside me.

I need to take a trip to Guild Headquarters tonight. All these emotions have become like waves battering the side of a beleaguered ship, leaving no peace in their wake. I need some good old-fashioned bloodshed to clear my mind and still my heart. When the last report is read and my dispatches are properly sealed and bundled for the morning, I head to my room and ready myself for the hunt. Armor and daggers in place, I head for the stairs, leaving via the window seems awkward now that I’ve become so inexorably tied to this house. Moira is overseeing some grand cleaning endeavor in the hall and I nod as I pass her only to catch a scathing look she too slowly tries to erase. I inhale sharply, and here I thought we were having a pleasant armistice. “Yes?” I snap and regret the momentary loss of control. She hesitates and I temper my tone. “Did you have something you wished to say?”

Finally, after another breath, she lets it out. “Well, the staff was just confused as to why we weren’t informed the Grand General was on his way home.”

I narrow my eyes, it can’t be. “Are you sure about this?”

Her face pales, the implications dawning on her. “Y-yes, the word is all over the city today.” Of course, I’ve been sequestered all day with damn reports. “The army turned east some time ago, engaged in a battle, and is now closing in on the Capitol.”

“I see.” God’s how embarrassing, to be so in the dark. That must be what Rowan was meaning. I swear I’ll repay him for this oversight. “Well, now we all know.” I turn and walk away, leaving her with a word still on her lips, desperately hiding how much it stings to be forgotten. How was he so thoughtless? Nevermind, it must have been a mistake. We’ll laugh it off once he’s home.

Even telling myself that doesn’t quiet the nagging accusations in my head, but the Guild has the cure I seek. There’s a certain diplomat who’s been acting as a second rate spy. The nerve, coming here and thinking you get away with a half-arsed espionage attempt. This is Noxus, if you’re going to spy, you had better excel at it. This is the one I’ve decided to handle personally.

Inara had laughed and asked if I was still sharp as I left, but the jab felt hollow, and I ended up rolling my eyes and walking away. One benefit of Jericho’s unexpectedly imminent return is that’s something I’ll be able to handle. As it turns out, I don’t have to worry about being sharp, my quarry is likely to provide a laughably small amount of challenge. One look through the window I’m perched at reveals a man of ridiculous girth. The only challenge will be making this somehow appear accidental. Despite the reputation of Noxian diplomacy, the outright murder of a foreign agent, even a known spy, would be considered bad form.

His bulk spills over the side of the chair he’s seated in, alone in a room with the lamps turned down low, pouring over some document. I try to analyze my possible approach, how I should navigate this, but with all that just transpired, my patience has run out. I slide the window open, not even trying to quiet it as it gives a keening whine, who needs a plan. I draw a dagger and I’m inside and behind him before he even reacts to the noise. “Writing a little note home?”

He’s been trying to turn to catch the noise, and he comes face to face with me. I give him a predatory smile. “M-Madame, C-Commander!” He stammers, eyes wide with dawning understanding. He opens his mouth, no doubt to scream for help.

I silence him with a blade to his throat, freezing him in an awkward pose with his head turned toward me. “That’s the problem with the position I find myself in. Now you all know me, and each and every one of you thinks to beg me for mercy. Well, I have none, especially not tonight.”

“Please...please.” His voice squeaks as I press the dagger harder against his throat. Another for tears and cowardice it would seem. How dull.

“What did I just say?” Forget accidents, forget political ramifications. Vision fading to red, I drag the blade across his throat; forget who I’m supposed to be. “You really should have screamed for help when you had the chance.”

I dodge the spray from his severed veins and watch him meekly make his exit from this life. There is no satisfaction though, no blissful relief from my own inner turmoil, just a hollow tiredness. Resigned, I leave him to be found, too late to cover my work. I make my way back home, running the rooftops in yet another desperate attempt at settling myself. Below me, the city pulses with life, even at this late hour, as work and leisure never cease among the endless denizens of the Capitol. It does come, just a bit, a little serenity in the noise and motion, as leap one edge to the next, and climb every height in my path. It feels so familiar, I almost expect my long gone stalker to appear, steps haunting mine. It’s fleeting though and vanishes all too soon. I sigh as the seriousness of what I’ve done finally catches up to me with my now clear head. This blatant murder could reverberate throughout our allies, undermining so much diplomatic work. It was reckless and rash and I should have known better. Even worse, I know he'd be disappointed. I berate myself the rest of the way home.

I think longingly of the bottle of wine sitting on my desk, temptingly untouched. Since nothing else has managed to soothe me I could just drown it all. That’s likely to cause me further troubles though, I haven’t forgotten the disaster the night before our wedding. It’s still waiting for me when I return home, along with an eager little drake hound that demands my immediate attention with her high pitched chirps. With her scooped up in my arms, affectionately nipping my fingers, I leave my temptations behind for bed. I need to regain control, I’ve ceded so much of it to Jericho over time, and now my own emotions are spiraling dangerously. I almost laugh at the thought, embracing that lack of control has defined me for so long now. I yawn, there will be time for deep thoughts tomorrow.

The hour is late by the time Skadi is happily tucked into her own little bed in the corner and I crawl into mine, which feels so very empty with just me in it. Painfully sober and finally admitting to myself I’m bitter at Jericho’s neglect, I fall into a fitful, brief sleep. Some nightmare haunts me, someone in the shadows hunting me, a flock of ravens, a woman’s laugh, cold and cruel. I’m ripped from the senseless cacophony by a less than impressive growl from across the room. “Go back to sleep, it’s still night.” A noise comes from Jericho’s private parlor beyond the door and with a final small growl, Skadi shoots into the darkness before emitting her tiny roar.

“Cease that you little beast.” Oh, no. Hurriedly I leap from the bed, rushing to the other room to find a single lamp lit and Skadi with her teeth locked around Jericho’s ankle. My heart leaps into my throat, my irritation forgotten. He’s home. He glowers down at her while her too small teeth fail to pierce the leather of his boot.

“Bad girl, stop.” I can’t help the slight laugh that escapes me as I bend down to pry her off her target. The sight of her determinedly trying to maul him is too much. With her squirming about in my grasp, I stand back up, and my laughter quickly dies in my throat at his dark expression. “Sorry about that.” My mouth feels dry.

“I thought you were supposed to be training her.” It’s not harsh or cruel, but cold and detached. He moves past us without another word, into the bedroom.

“I am, she’s still young.” I trail behind him, elation dissolving, my heart sinking. “I wasn’t expecting you home. You didn’t write to let me know.”

He goes about the room, turning the gas lamps on, throwing a harsh brightness over everything. “I sent word to High Command. I assumed it would be relayed to you.” His tone indicates he didn’t concern himself over it. He pulls the chair back from his desk and drapes his coat over it, again sparing no words for me as I stand there awkwardly. Even Skadi has gone still at the grim atmosphere.

“Well, it didn’t.” He sits and starts sorting through the papers stacked neatly in front of him. “I take it you’re intending to work?” The sun hasn’t yet pierced the horizon.

He nods, not looking my way. “There is much to be done. I’ll expect a report of anything you find pertinent.”

“Right.” I take Skadi and retreat down that narrow passage to my room, to a bed I haven’t been exiled to in so long. Fighting to breathe, cheeks burning, and eyes stinging, I lay in bed and pull her close. That was so much the Jericho of old, the cold possessive man who saw me as an asset, a tool. It was like there was nothing there of the man who’d held me close on our wedding night and called me wife so softly.

What did you think, foolish girl, that he cared for you? Do you never learn? He got everything he wanted from me, the Guild, my position in Intelligence, and a wife to manage his interests in his absence. He no longer needs to maintain his charade. I feel the tears threatening to spill over and I smother them. No, he’s taken everything else, he can’t have them as well.

#swain #Katarina #swain x katarina #League of Legends #league of legends fanfction

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merlin-wolfgang-trades-hale · 4 years

Text

Trouble at Newark International

@halevetica xD a lil something. This might be my last big of fic I write for the rest of the month as I take a bit of a break from writing to relax and catch up on shows I’m behind on. But I can’t resist some JealousSteve

There was a time when Danny contemplated becoming a fireman like his father. It didn’t pan out exactly but that doesn’t mean he’s a stranger to the fire station. He’s constantly there hanging out with his old man when possible and befriending the firefighters there.

He still keeps in touch with a few of them. A call here, a postcard there.

With Clara’s birthday coming up, Danny was excited about being back home and seeing everyone he once knew and ran with. The most exciting thing about his trip, however, was showing Steve around. Now that they were together, Danny wanted to take Steve home to ‘meet the family’. Steve’s met most of Danny’s family before but it was on the island, and though that was Danny’s home now, it felt important to show Steve New Jersey.

Steve hasn’t seen Danny that excited about something in a long time, which made him excited too.

All through the flight, Danny raved about old hangouts, people he hopes to see, things they gotta do. Steve listened and took it all very seriously. This was the first time he was heading to Jersey and it was officially as Danny’s boyfriend! For a family gathering! He was a little stressed but seeing Danny excited about going home was all Steve needed to feel calm.

“Are both of your parents picking us up?” Steve asked as they waited for their bags at luggage claim.

“Uh no. Mom’s doin’ something with Stella and dad had an appointment he couldn’t reschedule.” Danny replied.

Steve frowned a bit, “So we’re gonna get a taxi then?”

“No,” Danny answered with a smile. “Dad said he asked one of the guys at the station if they’d pick us up.”

“Oh! That’s nice. Do you know who?” Steve asked.

“Uh, no. But it whoever it is, it’ll be awesome to see them again. And you’ll love them. Most of them are also hot-headed alpha males who love running into dangerous situations.” Danny teased.

“Hey, your father’s a firefighter.” Steve reminded him.

Danny was caught off guard, having walked right into that one. So he stuck his tongue out at Steve. Steve smirked as he leaned in and nipped at Danny’s tongue before pulling him in a bit of a make-out session.

When they pulled apart, Danny playfully punched Steve’s chest, “Control yourself, you animal.”

“You bring it out in me, baby,” Steve told him as he kissed Danny again.

Danny pulled away when he saw his bags. “Wanna take this for me?”

“Danny, I’m the guest. You take my bags.”

They bantered a bit before they got both of their bags, since Danny’s was a suitcase with wheels they just placed Steve’s duffel on top. When they got through customs, Danny tried to see who was there to pick them up.

Then he saw him.

And so did Steve.

It wasn’t an old, grey-haired, wrinkled retired firefighter who might come over to the Williams’ for a poker night as one of Eddie William’s friends. It was a guy around their age, Steve’s height, buff, and chiseled, charming smile, golden hair brushed to the side like a 1940’s soldier. He was holding up a beautifully calligraphed posted with Danny’s name on it, a bouquet of flowers, and something sort of chocolate box.

His eyes lit up when he sees Danny and starts power-walking their way. Danny? Danny pulls the suitcase along until a foot away from the guy and tackles him into a hug.

Steve’s a bit speechless that a conversation happens before he can act.

“Oh my god! Why didn’t you tell me it was you dad asked to come to pick me up?” Danny asked.

The guy shrugged and said, “I wanted to surprise you. God, you look amazing. Like damn, Williams...like fine wine. Oh, these are for you.”

Danny accepts the flowers and chocolates but before he could say anything else, Steve has his chest pressed firmly into Danny’s back, glaring at the guy with his toughest SEAL scare face he can muster.

Danny looks up at Steve with a raised eyebrow before moving to the side so he wouldn’t be between the two of them and introduced Steve. “Kev, this is my boyfriend Steve. We’re gonna play tourist for a few days while we visit for ma’s birthday. Steve, this is Kevin. He’s part of my dad’s fire fighting team.”

Steve didn’t make a move to shake Kevin’s hand, and Kevin didn’t raise his hand to do it either. “Funny. Danny’s never mentioned you.”

“Danny’s never mentioned you in his postcards either.” Kevin strikes back.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, flexing a bit to make himself seem bigger.

“Guys...can we head home now, I’m really jet-lagged.” Danny deadpanned.

“You’re probably busy, Danny and I can take a cab,” Steve said.

“No way. Eddie asked me personally.” Kevin replied. “Come on, my truck’s in the garage. Here, let me get your bags.” Kevin said as he reached for them.

“I got it!” Steve exclaimed, stepping between Kevin and the bags. He shouldered his duffel and grabbed Danny’s suitcase from the side handle to carry it. Despite it having wheels, but he felt like he had to show off his strength. He turned and hugged Danny to him with his free arm and glared at Kevin, who glared back. As they began to walk after Danny awkwardly cleared his throat, Steve grabbed the flowers from Danny and handed them to a random lady while saying, “Welcome to Jersey.” Even though she was clearly there waiting for someone herself.

Danny stared at Steve incredulously but Steve didn’t give him a chance to yell at him there.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh thank God you’re here!” Clara ran to hug them.

Danny hugged her back, “Good to see you, ma.”

Steve moved to hug her too. “Hi, Clara...what’s with the look?”

“Edward said he sent Kevin to come to get you and I swore I’d be seeing you on TV.”

Danny frowned, “What do you mean?”

She rolled her eyes as she waved them inside. On their way in she explains, “It’s no secret to anyone that Kevin’s been crushing on you since you joined the academy, sweetheart.”

“What?” Steve demanded.

Then Clara gestured to Steve as if to prove a point, “Knowing how Steve was, and how Kevin could get, I was sure there would have been a huge...thing. But I’m glad both of you are here and okay.”

“Well we’re mostly okay,” Danny replied, giving Steve a look.

Clara raised an eyebrow and looked at Steve with a matching look Danny had. Like mother, like son. “What happened?”

“Nothing!”

“You call getting banned from Newark Liberty nothing? Steve, we’re going to have to go to New York to get home!” Danny exclaimed.

“You got banned from the airport? Why?” Clara gasped.

“Not forever! I’ll make a few calls and get it cleared up. And...I got into a fight.” Steve said dismissively, blushing a bit.

“With Kevin?” Clara inquired.

“He had it coming!”

Danny sighed deeply but he gave Steve a break and spoke up. “He sort of did. Steve’s jealousy wasn’t unfounded. I introduced Steve as my boyfriend so Kevin should have stopped being so forward with me.”

Steve smiled a bit and pulled Danny close by his hip, “Damn right.”

Clara slapped Steve’s shoulder, “No cursing in my house. I’m glad you do stick up for my son, but try not to give him any more greys. Now go wash up, supper’s almost ready.”

When Clara was out of ear-shot, he pulled Danny to the side. “You’re not mad are me, are you? I know I was defending your honor and all but...you’re no damsel. And jealousy has a fine line that can easily be cross from adorable trait to….bit of a red flag.”

Danny leaned up to kiss him. “I’m glad you can recognize that. And I am your boyfriend and another guy was heavily flirting with me so...I can understand. You could have let me keep the chocolate though.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” Steve promised and then looked mischievously upstairs, “I can’t wait to blow you in your old bedroom. We can roleplay and I’ll be your high school boyfriend you’re not allowed to see, but I sneak in through your window anyway…”

“Are you going to literally sneak in through my window?” Danny asked with a smirk.

“If you want me to.”

“Boys! Stop flirting and go wash up!”

#McDanno #Steve McGarrett #Danny 'Danno' Williams #Jealous Steve McGarrett #fanfic #my writing #my fanfic #hawaii 5-0 #Possessive Steve McGarrett

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kpopisamood · 5 years

Text

Queen’s Clan { 6 }

Summary: y/n is plagued by nightmares. She realizes that the more she runs away, the less frequently they haunt her. However, in running away, she’s also running straight into her ultimate demise. Will she be saved in time by those who would lay down their lives for her, even if they don’t know of each other’s existence?

Monsta X/Reader, Human/Vampire(s), Reverse Harem

Warnings: Language, future smut?

Word count: 1.21k

Tag list: @noonaduck @lovinggalaxies

***

Three men stood at the door, two outside and one in. The two behind the main wore dark shirts, one sported a close undercut while the other had a small cap that had little wisps of dark brown peeking out. The main guy himself, well, he was huge. He easily towered over everyone in the room, even with your two guys posed in a threatening stance.

Wait, your guys?

“You’re not taking her.” Hoseok growled out, angling his body to cover yours while trying to make himself bigger and more intimidating.

It didn’t work.

“Shownu, let’s just grab her and be done with it.” The one with the shaved undercut whined. He didn’t care much for confrontation and to be honest, this didn’t really have much to do with him.

The one with the cap smirked before he made his move. All at once, the room was filled with fists making contact with bones. Cracking, striking, gasps, growls made up the entirety of what you heard. But no one was focused on you.

This was your chance. You slowly crawled your way to the open door, cringing when you heard more bones cracking before you heard one of the guys maniacal laughter. As soon as you heard that chilling child-like laugh, you were out the door and sprinting through the house like a madman.

You threw open the front door and made a snap decision of running to the side of the house rather than out to the dark road ahead. If these...things knew you left they’d think you took the most obvious route and you’re not looking to die today.

Although, maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to take off in the direction of a forest at night. Minhyuk and Hoseok brought you here for your protection, would you have worse to face than the episodes you had?

One way to find out.

***

Slam!

Crunch!

Hiss!

“Fuck!” Wonho yelled as Shownu bashes his head against the floor again. “Why do you want her so badly?!” He desperately cried out to take him off guard. He just needed one second to throw him off—

Slam!

“Shit, you’re an asshole!” Wonho moaned out. He was starting to see dots along his vision, but he would keep fighting. He had to. You were—

Where were you?

A look around told him Minhyuk was still fighting against Shownu’s lackeys while Shownu himself had his full attention on him, throwing another punch at him, but missing when Wonho shifted over.

A slight ember hue took over the room and Wonho’s eyes widened before he ran full out the door. One of Shownu’s men seemed to practice the dark arts and was showing his capability with fire and Wonho was not about to stay and find out. You were out there somewhere, he didn’t sense anymore men in the area, which means your were by yourself against whatever else could come across you.

“Jooheon, knock that shit out!” Shownu ordered before Wonho heard him storming down the stairs. The one he called Jooheon laughed and the ember hue died down to a pink tone before burning out completely.

Wonho felt bad for leaving Minhyuk but he was a capable fighter. If the roles were switched, he’d tell him to leave him to find you as well.

Anything for you.

“She’s gone,” Shownu announced to the whole house and anyone within hearing distance.

“Which means this will be fun.” Jooheon laughed, getting ready to power himself up for the dangerous and perhaps deadly game of hide and seek you unknowingly started.

***

Keep running. Jump! Don’t trip over that obvious root. Duck! Your heart was beating loudly in your ears as if you were at a rave, the pounding bass taking over your entire being and urging you to move faster and faster until you couldn’t breathe.

You stopped for a second to take in your surroundings. You didn’t know how far you were not where you were but at least you weren’t in that crazy house where people called you a Queen. You still couldn’t believe you had actually drank someone else’s blood. This has to all be a dream. Just the other day, you were a nomadic civilian moving from place to place to keep visions away and now, now you weren’t sure who you are or what you are.

If you dwell on this now, you’ll succumb to it and never get anywhere. As you’re about to pick up the pace and sprint on, a deep voice whispers in your ear.

“Going somewhere?”

You yell and spin around, arms up in a fighting stance. You’re pretty sure you won’t be able to keep up with whoever this is but damnit, you’re gonna go down trying.

“What do you want?” You confronted him. You guessed your presence wasn’t completely forgotten since the guy with the undercut found you.

“Isn’t that obvious?” He smirked, slowly circling you as if he was the predator and you were the meager prey. “We’d like to have you, Your Highness.” He teases, coming closer to you and picking out a small leaf from you hair. “You’ve gotta be careful, Queen. Wouldn’t want you getting dirty now, would we?”

Irritation surged through you before you tried shoving him off. He seemed to know what you would do before you did it and grabbed a hold of your hands and pinning you against a tree.

“I swear, it’s just one damn thing after another today.” You mumble to yourself, rolling your eyes at how you got yourself in this mess.

He chuckled slightly before really looking at you this time. You may have just awakened, but already, your character was being shown through your demeanor. You’d run from not two, but five vampires who wanted you. You weren’t the stereotypical power hungry Queen he expected nor were you the dainty, please-save-me damsel in distress. He was impressed so far and he deemed you a likeable person for now.

He sighed and pushed off of you before laughing at your shocked expression.

“You’re a weird one, I’ll give you that. My name is Changkyun and it looks like I’ll be sticking around these parts for awhile. We should probably get you back to our little family reunion, though. Wonho might freak out. In that case, let’s take our time.” He walked off, thinking you would follow and you grudgingly did.

“Family reunion?” You questioned, picking up your pace to match his.

“We used to all be in the same clan. We actually came for a visit when we sensed you and then decided to stick around for awhile. Hope that alright with you, Your Highness.” He teased, biting his lip slightly while you huffed in annoyance.

This just keeps getting better doesn’t it?

#kpop #kpop fic #monsta x fic #monsta x x reader #monsta x x you #ot7 x reader #ot7 x you #kpop fanfic #monsta x #monsta x fanfic

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milfgritty · 5 years

Text

once upon a time | c. hart

❀ ⇢ requested: yes | no ❀ ⇢ genre: fantasy | prince!au ❀ ⇢ word count: 2.3k ❀ ⇢ a/n: so this was suggested to me a while ago by @disney-prince-carter-hart when she first came up with her new(er) url. i finally got around to writing it only to end up with 2.3k words and barely into the story so it will end up becoming a series most likely. updates will be sporadic since i won’t have much time on my hands but i am aiming to finish it soon. enjoy and let me know what you think!

it was a love destined to have a not so happily ever after. that did little to stop either of you from trying and ultimately continuing down the path of heartbreak.

⇢ posted: 06.09.19 . | . masterlist

- chapter one -

Once upon a time, there lived a prince.

He was sweet, and kind, and absolutely perfect. The kingdom adored him, would never fault him for anything. His hair was spun gold, eyes bright and shining. His smile could light up the entire room—and it did, on more than one occasion. He fought for what he thought was just, was a true gentleman. And he was yours.

Until the time came that he wasn’t.

Of course, it was to be expected. He was the crown prince, next ruler of the kingdom. And you?

You just happened to be the common girl lucky enough to catch his eye.

You didn’t ask for him to see you. It was the exact opposite. In the beginning, you couldn’t have cared less about him. He was just some pretty boy who happened to be born into the royal family. Your friends fawned over him when he rode into the village, gushed over his looks and his wealth.

Oh, how kind Prince Carter is, they raved.

Did you see? He looked at me! they yelled.

And of course, you rolled your eyes at them. Mindlessly agreed that of course he noticed you, Alexandra, how couldn’t he have? They were still your friends, even if they were swept up in the masses of admirers.

Everyone wanted their very own Prince Charming, and you couldn’t blame them. It just so happened that you were not one of those people.

When fate threw him into your path—literally—you were less than keen. The apples thrown from the basket in your arms certainly didn’t endear you to him.

And if it came as a shock to anyone that you managed to scold the crown prince within a minute of meeting him then hey, that’s on them.

You should start from the beginning, tell the story of your relationship properly. It wouldn’t do to miss anything important, would it?

The day you formally met Prince Carter was more than a little hectic. The entire village was a mess, organizing for the annual spring festival. The prince was sent into town by his parents to check on the preparations so far, though they really should’ve known better.

Sure, send the prince, you had thought bitterly, righting yourself after nearly being knocked over. The first sign of the prince caused everyone to come running. It was just unfortunate luck that you got caught in the middle of the impromptu mob.

You tried maneuvering around the group of people. Who cares about the dumb prince when there was still a whole list of things left to be done! Your attempts were foiled when your friends caught sight of you, dragging you right back in.

“They got hold of you, too, huh?” your neighbor, Travis, asked. Like you, he didn’t much see the appeal in Prince Carter. It might’ve been because his girlfriend was one of the girls fawning over him, but who could really tell.

You nodded in response, sharing matching grimaces. There was just no point in arguing anymore. The cries of the prince’s name surrounded you, the crowd of people throwing themselves at him and his guard only growing.

“Back, back,” one of the guards yelled, hand on the pommel of his sword. A horse reared up, widening the gap between them and the crowd as no one wanted to be crushed.

“Please, calm down,” the prince’s voice called out. “I only wished to see how far the festival preparations have come.” He smiled, though even from a distance you could see the crease between his brows.

Someone stepped forward and you could hear them informing him of what’s been done. More than likely, it was someone from the planning committee. You watched the prince nod along and thank him before he turned back to address the crowd.

He tilted his head, looking around with a calming smile. “Everything looks incredible so far,” he said, to the pleasure of those around you. “Please, continue on with what you were doing. I look forward to seeing the decorations once they’re done.”

With that, his group retreated back up to the castle. People milled about, gossiping as per usual. Breathing out a sigh, you turned on your heel.

“Hey, where are you going?” Travis dodged the hand grabbing at him and caught up to you.

Sparing a glance with him, you motioned around you. “We still have things to do.”

He rolled his eyes, laughing. “Take a break every now and then,” he called out, stopping and letting you walk away. Shaking your head, you vaguely gestured behind your back.

The next few hours passed slowly, the sun cutting its way across the sky. Your back ached from carrying baskets of decorations and food across the village, but you were almost done. All you needed was to deliver one last basket of apples to the inn and you could retire to your home. Slipping into a back alley that you knew was a shortcut, you ignored the pulsating throbs in your feet. Maybe you could stop by the apothecary for a salve, but did you have enough extra coin to waste?

Voices sounded from close by and you warily slowed. This was one of your preferred paths because you knew not many used it. Certainly not at this hour. Pausing by the wall, you strained to overhear their conversation.

“We shouldn’t be down here,” a voice hissed, one that you were unfamiliar with. The village wasn’t a very large one, who could it be?

There was a thud before another responded. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud. We’ll be fine,” they insisted. You absentmindedly shifted the basket in your arms, willing them to speak louder. A beat later and the man continued, “Besides, what’s going to happen to him, Phil? A fawning girl tries to force herself onto him?”

Muffled laughter broke out and the first one shot back, “See? This is why I’m ranked higher than you, Sammy.”

They were drawing nearer but you didn’t notice, trying to picture every Sammy—Sam, maybe?— you knew. What were they talking about, ranked?

“Ranked higher? You’re saying that like we’re not both part of the prince’s personal guard.”

The prin—?

The group rounded the corner quickly and a body slammed into you. The basket precariously balanced on your hip went tumbling from your arms, apples spilling out.

“Would you watch where you’re going,” you nearly yelled, your heart seizing. Your last job of the day, laying on the ground. Oh, you were never getting home.

It didn’t matter who it was in front of you, you were going to throttle th—

Your anger caught in your throat as your eyes trailed up to land on the absolute last person you could throttle.

Crown Prince Carter Hart, next in line for the throne, stared down at you. His look of horror surely matched your own. Oh no, you thought. It didn’t matter if you didn’t like him, that didn’t mean you wanted to run straight into him.

“You made me drop my apples,” you commented blankly, shock filling you to the brim.

The two giants—who you now recognized vaguely—standing behind him did nothing to help your nerves. They towered over the prince, who in turn towered over you.

You didn’t expect the prince to be quite so tall.

No, his height was the least of your worries. It didn’t matter if he was also even more attractive up close and that, for a moment, you could understand your friends’ odd obsession.

You were still fucked.

There was silence among the group as everyone processed the current situation.

“Carter,” the blond started as he stared intently between you and the prince, “you made her drop her apples.”

The prince swung around to gape up at him as the other giant snickered. “I didn’t mean to!” he told him, shifting back to look at you.

“I’m so sorry,” he winced, peering down at the sad apples. “I’ll pay for more, really. Just please don’t mention that you saw me.”

“I told you this was a bad idea,” the—apparently sensible—dark haired one said.

The blond hit his arm, “Shut up, Phil.”

Right. So tall, dark, and sensible is Phil and blondie is Sammy. You weren’t gonna lie, you were expecting the prince’s guard to have… fancier names. Or at least not Phil and Sammy. Besides, blondie looked more intimidating than… Sammy.

“What exactly are you doing here, Your Royal Highness?” you brought yourself back to the topic at hand. It was difficult to keep the disbelief out of your voice, but you thought you managed it well enough.

Your question was met with a blank look. The prince was probably startled that you’d even dare to ask. After all, you were just a lowly commoner.

“I-uh, well I–“ he began to stutter, causing your eyebrows to raise. This was wholly unlike the regal prince that you had seen earlier. It was almost endearing.

Almost.

The thought alone was dangerous. You would be a fool to allow yourself to think that way, because what could come out of it?

Absolutely nothing, that’s what.

The prince coughed, clearing his throat, before drawing himself back up.

“I was curious as to how the decorations looked from a ground view,” he spoke as though he was informing you of something incredibly important.

Nodding, you eyed him. Two could play at that game.

“So that’s why you and your guard were skulking around a shady back alley?”

The prince and Phil began choking in shock while Sam—you refused to call him Sammy—held back a laugh.

“She’s got us there, Carter,” he flashed a toothy grin. The grin unnerved you for a split second, leaving you with the distinct impression of a predator playing with their prey. Then, it dawned on you that he had called the prince by his given name, so casual in the way he said it.

None of them batted an eye at the lack of title. You found it interesting without meaning to. The prince allows his guard to refer to him without using his title? For some unknown reason, that surprised you.

“Might as well tell her since she already knows we’re here,” Phil reasoned.

Prince Carter sighed, avoiding your gaze. “I sneak out of the castle sometimes when I feel overwhelmed. I usually go off hunting in the woods, but I wanted to experience the village as someone normal. Phil and Sam are part of my personal guard—it seems like you’ve already figured that out. I just wanted to see the village.”

Phil stood behind him gaping and once again, Sam looked as though he was holding back a laugh. You, on the hand, were left reeling at his confession. To be honest, you were shocked that he was so forthcoming.

“I didn’t mean tell her everything,” Phil broke the silence with a barely restrained cry, staring at the back of the prince’s head incredulously. With that, the dam holding back Sam’s laughter broke. The prince snapped his head back to meet Phil’s eyes.

“I thought—“ you tuned out his response, too confused and baffled to continue. How was this group the crown prince—literal next ruler of your kingdom—and his guard. Surely they aren’t actually like this. And if they are, you didn’t know whether to be terrified or amused.

Mystified, you shook your head. Clearing your throat lightly, you brought their attention back to you. “As much as I’m… enjoying this, I still have more work to do and want to get home sometime soon. You have my word that I won’t tell anyone of our meeting.”

You eyed each of their reactions and didn’t miss the brief flash of—no, not disappointment. Why would the prince be disappointed to see you go? Surely, it had to be a figment of yo—

“Very well,” the prince smiled down at you, “as long as you keep your word.”

Behind him, both of his guards appraised him with surprised expressions.

Sparing a forlorn glance down at the abandoned apples, you made to leave when the prince stopped you.

“The apples!” he nearly shouted, scaring you half to death. “Do you need any coin to buy more? It’s the least I could do.”

“Oh! No, that’s fine,” you reassured him. “Besides, the street urchins and rats will be sure to make good use of them.”

The looks on their faces made you regret speaking before thinking. You rushed on to leave, a careless and hasty goodbye over your shoulder.

Once more, you were stopped.

This time, it was a loose hand around your wrist. It belonged to the prince, something you noted with wide eyes and a shocked face.

He hurriedly dropped your arm, rushing on to say, “I’m–your name. What’s your name?”

Looking at his hopeful and anxious question, you began to back up carefully.

“My name is y/n,” you replied softly, unsure of if he heard you over the wild thudding of your heart as you pivoted and fled. You were only a step down from running all the way home, ignoring the pain in your feet and the job you still had left. You could deal with it in the morning.

Flying into your house, you managed a greeting to your parents and continued on to your room. You don’t think you’ve ever been so grateful to have your own room, no matter how small. Sitting down on your bed, you removed your shoes and crawled under your blanket.

You just met the crown prince.

He was nothing like you expected.

He was kind, yes. And he was even more attractive than you thought. But he was awkward, almost painfully so. He was… almost normal. He asked for your name and you gave it. You had no choice but to, he was still your prince. You shook the thoughts from your head and rolled over. The odds of you seeing him again were slim, and the odds of him remembering you were even slimmer, you thought.

If only you were right in your assumption. Maybe you would’ve been saved from the heartbreak and pain in the end.

But alas, Fate had other plans for the two of you.

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