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the-forests-blessing · 9 days

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Chapter 3

The next… afternoon comes much sooner than Lukas expected!

Our author snaps up into a sitting position, horror and disbelief spread across his features as he stares at the clock ticking on the opposite side of the room. It’s past noon! How on earth did he accidentally sleep in so late!? The blond throws himself out of bed and quickly begins to dress at a fast, albeit clumsy pace. Still drowsy from sleep, he doesn’t think much further ahead than getting his casual attire on. There isn’t a second to waste when there’s only so many hours left in the day! Dewey awakens in his spot on the bed during all the loud commotion, watching with wide emerald eyes as Lukas rushes to tug his pants on.

“Dewey! I screwed up!” Lukas kneels now, hurriedly tying the laces of his dress shoes. “I shouldn’t have stayed up so damn late reading those books. How could I be so careless?” Lukas huffs with frustration at himself. While he was totally invested in the ecological books he borrowed from the library yesterday, he also found himself restless with the yearning to go out and explore. Tossing and turning in bed, the insistent drive to finally begin his studies in the forest outside of BeaconTown kept him up later than he’d intended.

He races to his satchel on the table, gathers his notebooks by shoving them all in, then swings his bag over his shoulder and- oops forgot to get his coat on! Takes off the bag- gets his coat– okay there. Now he wraps the strap over his head and shoulder and- “Come on, Dewey!” Lukas calls from the door. Dewey stops mid-grooming session to spring into action. The ocelot bounces off the bed and sprints to the door like an excited puppy dog ready for his daily walk.

Down in the inn foyer, Lukas passes by the girl at the front desk. She perks up from her novel to address the disheveled male with a puzzled look. “Is there a back exit in this establishment by chance?” He asks breathlessly. “One that leads directly out to the grassy field behind the wall?”

“Y-you want to go out there? It’s awfully close to the forest.” She tells in a rather concerned tone. Lukas responds with a confirming nod. “I mean, there’s a fire escape in the back just down the first floor hallway. You can use that door, but it leads to the alley between our building and the wall.”

“And where’s the nearest exit to that?” Lukas asks. The girl opens her mouth to respond when suddenly Dewey hops up onto the front desk counter, delightfully surprising the woman.

“Aw! Kitty!” She reaches out, giving the ocelot a nice little head scratch. “Well I mean if you’re serious, there’s a hole in the wall from a creeper blast that’s been waiting to get patched up for months. The mobs have been spawning back there like crazy, so I advise you to be careful, not like that it’s anything compared to what’s in the forest, but still.”

“Okay thanks!” Lukas exclaims, scooping Dewey up with a squeak and quickly begins walking his way down the hall.

“W-wait!” She shouts, snapping her book shut. “Are you seriously going out there?” The front desk girl comes darting out from behind the counter to watch the man and his jungle cat rush down the hall.

“Yep! Have a good day!”

And just like that, the two turn down another hall and out of sight. The girl stands there, absolutely baffled by the lack of concern the man portrays for his or his ocelots’ safety. “Welp. Probably won’t be seeing him ever again,” she shrugs casually and returns to her spot behind the counter.

Outside, Lukas is blessed with the divine warmth of afternoon sunshine. He doesn’t waste his time basking in it, instead searching left and right between the exit door and the alleyway until he spots the blast hole gaping through the wall. The mossy stone wall in front of him looms tall, casting shade throughout the alleyway like a narrow river of shadow. On the left side is where the hole breaches through the protective barrier between town and field, something that could easily be patched up with dirt or cobblestone but, Lukas assumes, BeaconTowner’s probably don’t care at this point. “Come on, Dewey.” Lukas nods his head to follow and begins his approach to the opening.

He stops at the mouth of the opening, Dewey padding close behind. Looking down into the debris, he quietly admires the way the grass has already begun to grow between the rubble that remains from the creeper blast. Hopefully no one was harmed here , Lukas worries but decides not to dwell on the manner. He’s on a mission, and he’s already losing precious time! Casting his gaze down to Dewey, he watches his ocelot thrash his tail wildly with excitement. Lukas kneels, gives his ocelot’s bandana a quick tightening up and asks, “you ready?”

Dewey ready’s himself for a race, getting into position by hunching low and bending his legs for a mighty leap out into the grassy fields of freedom. Lukas stands, smirking. “A race? Sure!” I already know you’re going to beat me again. The blond braces himself, using one arm to clutch his bag close and the other to count his fingers down. “3… 2… 1… GO!”

Immediately Dewey bounces himself off the rubble and lands gracefully into the grass below. But he doesn’t stop there; the ocelot disappears into the tall grass as Lukas attempts to catch up, though he quickly loses sight of him. Lukas huffs out a soft laugh as he runs after his little jungle cat friend, catching sight of where the grass rustles, the sun flashing against the green stalks giving the novelist a clear idea of how far ahead Dewey is. Running through the field feels wonderful. The air is so clean, the smell of wet dirt and grass bathing his tongue and inciting a bright ray of optimism for the day.

The run to the tree line is about a minute and a half long. Long enough to make Lukas’ heart race with adrenaline as he finally approaches the end of the grassland. Eventually his pace begins to slow, coming to a jog and then a walk– then a dead stop. Lukas’ smile fades away, his eyes widening with surprise to the discovery of warning signs. They’re… everywhere. Plastered on trees and wooden stakes in the ground. “Danger! Do not enter!” “Authorized personnel only beyond this point” “Enter at your own risk” and… Lukas’ eyes land on a certain sign. Pinned to a tree, the sign reads, in all caps and red ink: “BEWARE: ADMIN”.

“Admin?” He wonders outloud. Lukas is familiar with this word, as it pertains to people with order of power in the redstone field. Typically Admin refers to someone who is in charge of redstone operations, and controls who and what goes where, and is typically the only person qualified to make changes. So this… Lukas narrows his gaze on the sign and without looking, rummages through his satchel and pulls out his dictionary. He quickly flips through it and confirms with himself of his own mental descriptions. He wonders what this warning could possibly mean.

A fern behind one of the tall evergreens rustles, causing Lukas to drop his gaze and watch in bated anticipation. As he’d expected, Dewey hops out of the fern and bounds to his side, sitting down in front of Lukas with a prideful chin raise at his successful race. Lukas chuckles, reaching into his bag to grab his ocelot a freeze dried minnow treat. “Good job, Dew. I don’t think anyone could beat you in a race.” He praises and tosses the minnow treat to his friend who swiftly catches it in his mouth without fail.

Lukas draws his attention back up to all the warning signs. “I guess we have another mystery on our hands, huh Dewey?” He says, glancing down at the ocelot who simply gives him a strange look. “Hah, sorry, hands and paws.” Lukas returns his dictionary back to his satchel and clasps the latch shut. “Well, these woods can’t be any more dangerous than the crimson forests of Norfair. I think we can handle ourselves, right buddy?”

Dewey tilts his head, looks away, tilts it back and looks at Lukas with an uncertain expression. Lukas just shrugs, “Well we didn’t come all this way to be stopped by some silly signs. Besides, remember what they’d say back at the ranger station? ‘The unknown always has a chance at leading you to discovery.’ …Jeez that's cheesy looking back on it now, but I mean, it’s still kinda true, right?” Lukas grins sheepishly, Dewey on the other hand is not amused. The ocelot just rolls his eyes and stands, turning to begin making his way into the forest. He stops at the mouth of the tree line, one paw off the ground as he looks back and waits for his owner to come along.

The moment Lukas steps into the forest, he feels a gentle breeze pass him, pushing its way into the forest from the outside world. He takes one look back at BeaconTown, his wandering gaze resting upon the massive tower looming in the sky, casting a great shadow over the town below, making it look so small… inferior to its mighty size. Lukas lingers for only a moment before turning back to the forest and, with one confident step, passes by the warning signs to turn back. His eyes narrow with set determination. The author begins walking in, following his ocelot as Dewey bounds ahead, hopping over fallen branches, twisting tree roots, and even the occasional tree cone.

“Watch out for the pinecones, Dewey.” Lukas warns his friend. “They can be found with sap attached to them, and you’ll absolutely hate getting sticky paws out here.” Lukas’ lips draw into a smile, humored by the acknowledging tail flick the ocelot offers him as he continues to venture ahead. He knows Dewey will keep a vigilant eye. For now, Lukas lifts his chin up with a smile, taking in the coniferous woodland surrounding him.

Just from the short time he’s already spent here, he can already name a few of the noble trees that keep this forest green all-year round. The pines here are the ones that bear pinecones, a small percentage of which produce the sap that Lukas warns his ocelot of. Although many cones lay out over the floors of this forest, each coniferous tree here, pine, spruce, fir, and tamarack, all produce their own unique cones in all their ovoid and globular shapes and sizes. Lukas stops his walk to lean down and pick a large cone off the forest bed, examining its scales thoroughly. He can see the seeds in the upper surface, igniting a fire of inspiration inside our explorative author. He sticks the cone in his satchel and continues forth, following his ocelot close behind.

As the two continue deeper into the woods, Lukas loses all thought revolving around the warning signs from earlier. Instead, he’s investing the most of his mental thought in the intrigue of the differing cones he’s come across and stuck in his bag for later investigation. He can’t help but notice how lacking of pathways this forest is. It’s a bit difficult to traverse on foot, making Lukas wish he’d fitted himself out in his adventure gear and travel boots, especially as the ground beneath his feet gets wetter. As expected, the rain from yesterday's downpour has thoroughly drenched the forest, feeding the trees and plants, as well as the wildlife that roam the roots and leaves of the floor, to the birds that fly from branch to branch above.

A tremulous twitter warning sounds above, drawing Lukas and Dewey’s attention to a frightened robin flitting away. Dewey thrashes his tail wildly at the idea of a hunt, to which Lukas quickly dismisses. “ No hunting, Dewey. I’m not going to let you kill another innocent critter just for you to not eat it again.” Dewey hunches low at the accusation, glaring back at his owner, annoyed. “Oh don’t give me that look. Maybe if you stopped playing with your food, then I’d let you hunt freely.” Dewey just shakes his head, lifts his nose up and turns away, leaving Lukas to linger in his spot, amused. “How can so much attitude be in one cat?” He mutters under his breath, but by the flick of Dewey’s black with white polka-dotted ear, he could tell the ocelot heard.

The two continue walking for longer than Lukas keeps track of. He can’t remember when he’d last looked back and realized they’d wandered away far enough to no longer see BeaconTown through the cracks between each of the individual evergreens. Even the bright blue skies have disappeared, replaced by endless trees and bushes. The sound of a loud, echoed knocking causes Lukas’ heart to leap with surprise. He looks around wildly, and when it repeats, he lifts his gaze up into the trees in the direction of the pecking. A woodpecker. In search of a meal, it focuses on drilling its sharp beak in poking holes into the trunk of one of the conifers. Lukas’ expression lifts positively, the blond snaking his hand back into his satchel to grab his notebook.

Dewey waits, impatiently kneading the ground whilst Lukas takes his sweet time making note of the bird. As time continues to draw on, the two are stopped every few minutes so Lukas can log in another finding. He’ll find an object of interest, whether it be plant or animal, make note of its appearance, saving it for later studies. He’ll be here for three months after all; he’s got plenty of time to explore and scour the forest for all it has to offer!

As they continue deeper, Lukas is finding himself climbing up more slopes, making a mental note of how deep in each incline is. The first one comes along about a half-hour into their adventure. He’d struggled a bit, wishing once again that he’d brought his adventure gear instead of his casual attire. If only he hadn’t slept in! His thoughts would have been far more reasonable with him. Instead he’d fallen into a rush to get out the door. Lukas sighs, staring down at the mud and dirt that clings to the soles of his feet.

No matter, a simple wash back at the inn will clean them right up. Lukas flicks his gaze over to Dewey, his ocelot currently sitting on a tree stump, grooming his own dirtied paws. Lukas’ eyes wander, following the fallen down tree that once stood as part of that stump. The massive log now lay defeated, resting upon another steep slope. The blond looks around, finding no other way to really get up any higher from this point other than to make use of the fallen tree itself. Determined, Lukas sets forth towards the massive log, splaying his palms out over its dampened bark and pressing inward. The structure is still stiff and sturdy. It will do doubt be able to support his weight. Lukas adjusts his bag to lay across his back and steps up onto the tree. One foot, then the second, he quickly finds his balance with ease.

“We’ll be doing a bit more climbing from this point, Dewey.” Lukas says from his elevated stance over the ocelot. Dewey stops grooming and looks at him, adjusting himself with his tail over his front paws and waiting patiently. Lukas turns and, with the experience he has, makes it across the log without slipping. It’s a slow process, but better safe than sorry. He hops off the tree and lands in the grass on top of the slope with a light ‘thump’, then looks back at Dewey. “Alright, your turn, buddy.”

Dewey leaps to the log with a light trill. He quickly runs up the dead tree, his long tail high in the air as he crosses and joins the author at the top.

“Nicely done.”

The two continue onward. Nearly an hour into their hike, Lukas has his nose deep in one of his empty maps. He uses this one as a landmarker, making note of unique spots in the forest to help guide him. One in particular was a very elegant mossy boulder, while the other was the dead tree that helped the two reach further into their destination. More hills and slopes come and go, thankfully nothing as grand and impassable as the previous one. It doesn’t take long for Lukas to lose himself in his thoughts, scribbling the length they’ve walked into his map in progress.

“Mrrrowl,” Dewey’s gravelly meow makes Lukas perk up from his work.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” Lukas finally looks up from his map sheet, his teal eyes widening with surprise at the dense layer of fog that lies before him. The forest around him has darkened since the last time he was keeping proper attention to his surroundings. He quickly looks down, rolling up his sleeve to check his dark, navy blue watch on his left wrist. Evening will be coming soon, Lukas realizes with a regretful twist in his gut. This is all because he slept in and wasted so much of his day. They’ve hardly breached the surface of what the forest holds! Lukas sighs, downcast at the idea of going back so–

Rustle rustle…

Lukas and Dewey both lift their heads up quickly to the sound of rustling in the tree branches overhead. Curiously, there’s nothing there. Lukas quirks a brow, then turns his head down and looks at Dewey. “Let’s keep going a bit further. I presume the fog indicates we’ve just entered a higher elevation.” Dewey looks worried at the sound of this but doesn’t argue with it. Instead of bounding ahead with confidence, he decides to linger back with Lukas, walking with him by his side.

The fog here, Lukas can’t help but notice, is nothing like he’s ever seen. It carries an eerie blue hue to it, one that makes Lukas wonder what kind of natural phenomena is the cause. Surely the green needle clusters on the trees don’t affect the light that passes through the branches and into the fog? Lukas can’t help but find unwavering interest, craving to understand. So he ventures further and further, and the more he walks, the more he begins to realize that not only does the fog carry a blue hue, but so do the plants as well. The conifers have darkened, their trunks a dark, strange blue and the bark stretching over them is more twisted and unnatural. The hanging branches above are their own dark, shadowy night skies above. Creators, even the ferns and grass have changed colors.

Another rustling sound makes the blond freeze and this time, spin on his feet to look up at the trees only to, once again, see nothing. The sound does not appear again and instead, leads Lukas to a skin pricking tension, realizing how silent the forest has become. There is no breeze or twitter of birds. There is only the crunch of dead pine needles and leaves beneath his feet, and the peculiar rustling that seems to be… following him.

Lukas narrows his gaze on the branches, hesitating as he attempts to catch any form of movement. Instead, a drop of rain landing on his nose nearly tears the soul right out of him. He flinches strongly, shaking his head as his heart begins to race wildly, anxiety clutching at his gut like a giant fist. Lukas turns his attention down to Dewey, his ocelot meeting his gaze with just as similar of a fearful expression as he has. “Y-y’know, it’s actually getting pretty late. Maybe we should head back?” Dewey nods quickly in agreement. “Okay, cool, cool. We’re on the same page then. Let’s get back before the rain comes again.”

Lukas quickly turns around and, for the first time in his life, stops with a stomach dropping realization. He looks around hurriedly, looking at all the trees and bushes, trying to remember which way they’d come from. Anxiety begins to make his hands shake, and another raindrop atop his head only makes the urgency to get his map out all the more dire. “O-okay, here,” he draws his finger down, wincing at his lack of progress. “Alright, this way,” Lukas nods his head towards the direction he believes in. “This is our way back, let’s go-OOooH!”

A horrifying drop.

Lukas shouts as the ground beneath his feet breaks, terror snapping his eyes wide open as he stares into the dark pit that gradually swallows him. It all happens so quickly. He plummets deep into a steep, muddy hole, making contact at the bottom with a painful “oof!” Lukas’ heart is racing and it takes him a moment to properly process what had just occurred, as well as the pain in his legs and butt from landing so obnoxiously unprepared. “Ugh..” A pale hand reaches up, rubbing at his forehead. Dazed and confused, he groans as he looks around this… this dirt hole. “W-what in the world?” Lukas grunts as he rises to his feet, seething at the pain that runs through his knees. “Ah.. ouch.”

“Mreeowl!”

Lukas looks up finally and, to his horror and dismay, finds himself several blocks deep in a hole. A manually dug hole. No way does a hole this narrow and deep form without human interference. Dewey’s little head pokes out from opening, the ocelot looking down at his owner with extreme worry. “Dewey! Are you okay?” Lukas shouts. Dewey meows again, then reaches his little speckled arm into the hole, clawing desperately at the air.

“You stay right there! I– I’ll look for a way out!” Lukas directs Dewey, the ocelot sitting back with his head low and ears flattened. The blond looks around the hole, searching for any roots or rocks to use as leverage to get himself out. It’s no use. The hole is dug through nothing but solid dirt. Even reaching out and clawing at the earth with his hands only makes the packed dirt crumble a few measly specks. Another droplet of rain draws his attention to look back up. The sky, or what most he could see of it through the fog, has darkened significantly. Like a shadow blanketing the landscape. Okay… Now is officially the time to panic.

“D-Dewey! I… I don’t think there’s a way out of this on my own!” Lukas shouts from the bottom of the hole. Dewey responds to his words with a worrisome chitter, standing and clawing at the air between himself and Lukas again. Lukas’ heart breaks at the ocelot’s futile rescue attempts. “Dewey, no, you’ll fall! Listen to me closely.” The author urges. “I need you to run back to town as fast as you–” more rain interrupts him, and this time it’s heavier droplets that send a chill of horror down the man's spine. Adrenaline kicks into high gear, anxiety clutching his heart and taking the air out of him. “Run to town and get help! F-from the guards or— or the hunter’s! Anyone!”

Dewey hisses at the very idea of leaving his friend behind. He shakes his head and scrunches his nose.

“Dewey, you have to!” He pleads. The rain begins to strengthen, now pattering the dirt at the base of the hole. Lukas looks down, and with a quick realization process, examines what it was that tricked him into thinking this was the forest floor. A dense blanket of leaves, weaved together perfectly to create an illusion of leaves on the ground. This… this is a pitfall trap. Whoever made this hole made it with the purpose of trapping some unknowing victim. Lukas’ brows knit and he snaps his head up, his mind immediately wandering back to the hunter’s Radar spoke of yesterday. Lukas glances up now, and to his dismay and relief, Dewey has disappeared. “Oh, Dew… Please be careful.” Lukas rests his back against the dirt, disbelief and anxiety forming a nasty ball of nausea in his belly. He… cannot believe this is happening. It was all so sudden.

The rain continues to fall…

Lukas stands in a puddle of slowly rising water. His teal eyes blurred as tremendous, body shuddering bouts of fear shake him to his core. His blond head thumps against the dirt wall behind him, his eyes rising up the wall, once again searching for a way out. He does another inventory check for the third time within a five minute timespan. He brought nothing but the clothes on his body and the books in his bag. He’d never expected to land himself in a trap of all things. The warning signs didn’t mention anything like this!

Authorized personnel only… Lukas recalls.

It must be those hunters. It’s the only plausible reason for traps in the woods where animals inhabit. But… Lukas looks up and down the hole, deeming it close to a seven block stretch at the very least. What kind of animals are they trapping that need a hole so deep? The most Lukas saw on the way out here was a field mouse scurrying around some tree roots, in search of seeds, as well as the numerous bird species he’s since logged for extensive research in the future…

Lukas hangs his head low, feeling so… so stupid. He went through all those years of training, traveling the world, exploring the Nether, all for it to end like this. Lukas closes his eyes, gritting his teeth and shoves his hands against his face. Stupid stupid stupid. His feet shift only slightly, causing the water at his feet to stir lightly. He peers down, genuinely disturbed by how quickly the water at the base of the hole is beginning to rise. His soaked shoes and socks are the least of his worries as of right now though. The rain is pouring, so sudden and out of nowhere! As time draws on… And with no sign of Dewey… Lukas’ need for panic strengthens tenfold. The water has risen a little past his ankles, and it’s only growing more steadily. Tears sprang to his eyes, fear that his life and everything he has worked up to could truly possibly end tonight.

In a last attempt at salvation, Lukas calls out, “Hello!?” He waits… watching the opening above. No go, there’s no one around to help him. He begins to shake horribly, fear entangling his heart like thorny vines. “P-please! Anyone!” He tries again, panting as he begins to rapidly lose his breath to anxiety. “Oh no… Oh no no no no…” The soaked blond crouches in a puddle of defeat. The rain pelts his head and back, drenching him of his sorrows. He clutches at his satchel, as it’s all that he has to hold onto as he waits for rescue to arrive or… “P-please–” he sobs into his bag.

In the midst of the rain plopping into the puddle at his feet, Lukas catches the sound of something else. It sounds… elegant. Like a chiming trill, completely inexplicable. Lukas opens his eyes, his brows knitting with confusion– until he looks up. What he sees absolutely stuns him to his core. He actually has to rub his eyes in disbelief to make sure he’s not just seeing things. A creature of fables and fairytales, one of which Lukas has been exploring all over the world for. It presents itself in a soft, blue glow. Its naturally illuminated, baby blue body is small, but too big for Dewey to consider to be a play-thing. It trills from the opening of the hole, looking down at an absolutely amazed Lukas. An allay!

The author hurriedly reaches for his notebook, getting his hand past his satchel's flap before he’s stopping himself. What am I doing!? I can’t just write about this now! I’ve got to get out of here! He gives himself a mental slap for his own idiocy, looking back up at the little allay that continues to stare curiously down at him.

“H-hi…” Lukas begins with a soft, friendly tone, unable to shake the tremble of excitement and fear out of his voice. “ Please… W-would you be able to help me out? I— I’m so scared to die in this hole, please , if there’s anything you can do to help me.” Lukas clasps his hands together, pleading with the little fairy. Its white eyes reflect the clouds of the Aether, blinking down at the human, captive in his hole. It chimes a sound so elegant, it snags the adventurer's heart instantly. The allay lifts itself from its perch and glides down into the hole with ease. It’s blue aura following it, lighting the dirt up in blue light until it comes face-to-face with a truly awestruck Lukas. “I can’t believe it,” he draws out without thinking, unable to take his eyes off the mystical creature of legend. “You’re absolutely beautiful… Radiant light itself.” His gentle voice is filled with wonder, looking upon the creatures he’s practically waited all his life to finally see.

To think it would be here in this muddy, seemingly inescapable hole of all places.

The allay laughs softly at Lukas’ compliment, a sound so kind and charming, like pulling the strings of a regal harp. Its solid white eyes shut happily, expressing what little joy it can with only eyes and no other facial features but that. Lukas watches the fluttery little creature ascend the shadowy hole, its blue light rising, then quickly vanishing, leaving Lukas to once again succumb to the darkness. Silence returns in the most haunting way imaginable. Lukas stares up at the hole, his eyes shining with emotion. Without the allay’s light, the hole has never felt darker. He’s never felt more alone. And he always feels alone.

If he is to truly die here, drowning pathetically in a pit of mud, then at least he got to meet an angel before succumbing to his harrowing fate.

He raises his head to face the clouds that pour mercilessly upon him, rendering him helpless and nauseated with the idea of dying in a muddy pitfall. There’s beauty in the sound of rain, though he finds no comfort in nature's song this time. The rain is deafening, and the dense fog is beginning to creep down the unstable muddy walls that surround him. It’s ghostly blue hue he realizes is truly haunting, as it is interesting. The dense gray clouds above mute the moon's light, his only source of comfort as he feels his fears further choking him up. Anxiously, and so horribly worried for his and his little companions safety, he must put all his faith in his beloved ocelot who’s just as unfamiliar with this tumultuous terrain as he is. Although with every anxious thought brings his spirit down lower than the dirt he’s stuck in.

Absolutely ridiculous he rushed out of his hotel room without even truly grabbing supplies. Not even a lantern... He can only shake his head at his own behavior, regretting staying up late now more than ever. He was simply so curious and inquisitive about this new, what he truly believes in beautiful biome. Despite where he is now... You know what they say about curiosity and cats? Lukas can only drop his gaze back down to the muddy, drowning roots in front of him. Please let nothing happen to Dewey.

He never thought himself one to feel helpless so quickly, to give in to defeat. As time draws on, the allay does not return. Stricken with desperation, he keeps shouting for help to no avail. Lukas leans his shoulder against the softened dirt wall, growing tired and colder by standing in the middle of the hole. For he cannot cry as much as one would think, he’s getting tired and his throat exhausted from shouting for help. He takes a deep breath, smelling nothing but earth and rain. Feeling soaked, sodden with mud. His hair emitting a stream of rain unto his crossed arms. Holding himself for warmth, he tries to focus on listening for Dewey. Even as hopeless as it seems, he knows his ocelot will do his best to return.

It’s then he hears the unsettling sound of a zombie's growl, there’s no denying the muffled groan that follows the sound. Lukas looks up, cringing and bracing himself at the idea of being sniffed out like a piece of prey. He sends a silent prayer to the stars and closes his eyes again, trying to imagine how close the mob is. There’s only one from what he can tell, so he steps away from the wall and stares upward toward the edge. The earth above him shakes without warning, what sounds like bushes being trampled by something… big. Very big. Lukas swallows, his fear running down his spine and making his body tremble. He gasped as the mob went flying over the hole, dying upon impact somewhere he couldn't see. He breathes out as he gradually becomes unsteady on his feet, anxiety gripping his heart relentlessly.

He hears the trees rustling, and branches breaking as it encroaches upon him. But before he can see anything, the forest falls unnaturally still, all noise ceasing and only leaving the downpour. Lukas falls silent and shivering, holding himself as he tries to keep some semblance of warmth. His heart flutters with confusion as the allay appears again. Illuminating his darkening horrors with its icy blue light. “It’s you! You came back!..” Lukas calls, still terrified, but thankful for its company. “Please don’t leave, I-I really..” Lukas’s heart drops as the allay turns tail and goes out of sight again, immediate hot tears pour down both his cheeks as he stands frozen. It’s nearly pitch black. He can’t even speak. He covers his face, and runs his hands down his flushed features. Frustration squeezing his heart he opens his mouth, “Come back! Please, I need help! I’m.. I’m getting really tired! I won’t hurt you..” Lukas tries, pleading with the creature he cannot see. He sees its blue light illuminate the branches of the trees above as it flies, Lukas’ eyes glittering with its beautiful, flickering light. It’s then a shadow overtakes the allay’s light, his stomach drops as his heart halts within his chest. A predatory glare is staring back at him. An aura in the air has him immobile, and under judgment. A massive unmoving shadow and its intimidating, yet gorgeous illuminated gaze looks down upon him from the shadows above. Everything around them is so dark, all he can see is its partial outline of a massive figure. Whatever this thing is, it seems to be what the allay brought.. “H..hi..” Lukas grunts as his entire body goes weightless. “Whoa!” Lukas struggles for only a second before he is lifted from the mud. He breathes audibly, staring into the eyes of the shadow that lifts him. He’s lifted higher than the hole, his stomach clenching with a new wave of uncertainty as he’s lowered to the ground yet.. Not quite allowed to touch it. The shadow stays beyond his perception. It's then he’s lifted to the entity's face. Its eyes locked onto Lukas’, glaring into the human's mystified gaze as if it bore straight into his soul. Goosebumps rise and Lukas feels his mouth go dry, staying silent.

Lukas is then pushed further away without warning, weightlessly tossed across the pitfall to safety. Lukas doesn’t hit the forest floor hard, landing in soft moss and dead leaves, but he does scramble to sit back up and onto his knees so he could see who pulled him from the pitfall.

But there’s nothing. Nothing but the horrible trap he thought would doom him to an early grave. The Allay and its magical trills are missing. The glaring shadow has vanished as well, its power having no residual, not on him and not on their surroundings. It’s then, and only then that he hears distant shouting.

Lukas is immobilized by the encounter he just faced. Even as the search party arrives, he’s unable to fully harness the ability to move, let alone speak. A soft, yet soaked presence suddenly presses onto him. Dewey presses his muzzle strongly against Lukas’ cheek, purring loudly with relief. A group of humans emerge from the shadows, carrying lanterns and flashy weapons as they enter the small clearing where the pitfall was set.

“Hey!” A man snarls the moment his piercing green eyes set upon Lukas’ muddy form. “What the hell do you think you’re doing out here? Did you not read the signs?” He leans down, getting in Lukas’ face, yet the blond offers no response. The man reels back, his eyes widened, searching the author and his surroundings before his glare lands on the triggered pitfall trap. “How did you get out of there?” He demands, turning aggressively fast back on the distraught blond. “Tell me!”

“Chill out, Aiden.” A gruff voice mutters from the small crowd of armed people. A burly man, built strong and tall, steps forward. Lukas flicks his eyes up to the man, though still incapable of speech as his mind and body attempt to process what just happened. “Step aside,” the man huffs, making the other shorter male, Aiden , back off slightly, but still lingering too close for Lukas’ comfort. The stranger offers out a large hand, Lukas taking a moment to consider it before lifting a shaky, cold palm to grasp onto his. The man helps him to stand, Lukas’ legs immediately threatening to give out beneath his exhausted weight. “Whoa there,” the stranger catches him, helping to keep him standing on his toes by keeping a firm set of hands on his sides.

“Jack.” Aiden speaks the name with rising frustration. “What are you waiting for? Question him!”

“I said cool it, Aiden.” Jack snaps back at the lesser male behind him. Aiden’s eyes widen, then narrow as he draws back to silence. Lukas looks at this Aiden person for only a second and can already tell this is one of the people he’s destined to avoid for the next three months. He doesn’t lend him his eyes for long, instead his tired teal gaze looks up to this Jack person, his eyes droopy, darkened from exhaustion. Jack ‘tuts’ his tongue, shaking his head and gives Lukas a firm pat on the back. “Let’s get yuh out of this rain, how ‘bout it?” Jack suggests, and Lukas could not agree faster. He nods quickly, but continues to keep his silence.

The walk back is extremely awkward to say the least. Lukas is in the presence of numerous strangers and, by the way Jack refuses to let go of his right shoulder, he feels like somewhat of a prisoner. Lukas glances back, washed with endless gratitude and relief to see Dewey pawing right behind him. His poor sweet ocelot is soaked from ears to toes. Lukas feels so horrible for putting him in this situation. How could he let this happen? With all of his survival training back with the rangers? Lukas cringes with embarrassment, cursing himself silently once again…

Although.. His mind continues to wander back to the allay and that… thing that saved him. Whatever it was, it lifted him from that deep, muddy pitfall without even doing so much as laying a single finger on him. Lukas felt nothing but this weird feeling of pressure encompassing all around his body as he’d floated up to the top of the hole, only to be then tossed off into a mossy bed beneath a passive pine. Lukas stares straight ahead, his vision shaking and blurring as he envisions that glowing set of eyes glaring back at him. Was it a mob? A person? He wonders. Lukas’ gaze descends to the forest floor, watching his own feet trudge clumsily along as the group continues to press towards the end of the coniferous biome.

“So, I’ve been meanin’ to ask you,'' Jack says, breaking the silence for Lukas and the rest of the group. “What’s your name?”

Lukas feels his skin prickle with goosebumps, aware of the glare piercing his muddy backside. He doesn’t want to respond. He’s too tired, and most definitely uncertain of sharing his personal information with these people, but he knows when he has no choice but to comply.

“Lukas,” he mutters under his breath.

“Lukas.” Jack repeats, emitting a thoughtful hum before continuing, “what brought you all the way out into these woods tonight, Lukas?”

Lukas closes his eyes, breathing in and holding his breath before sighing out heavily. “I’m an author. I’m doing ecological studies for a book I’m writing. That’s what brought me out here.” Jack chuckles softly in response, the sound causing Lukas to finally look up at the man fully. The brunette’s features are adorned by a well groomed beard. His left eye is foggy, resembling a crystal clear ice lake, while his right eye is dark brown like the dark trunks of the conifers that surround them.

“Is that all?” Jack asks with no concern in his deep, gravelly tone. “Well, I gotta ask you, kid.. How the heck did you make it out of that pitfall?” The burly man glances down at Lukas again, and this time, Lukas feels a change in the aura of the group. The moment Jack asks his question, Lukas can hear the adjustment of weapons from the armed men and women in the small group. Something seems… off. He can’t quite put the pieces of the puzzle all together at once, so he diverts away from his story, making one up.

“I climbed up,” he says in a shallow whisper.

Jack raises a scarred brow, narrowing his eyes up at the blond. “ Climbed up? With all that mud and–”

“Yeah, climbed up,” Lukas interrupts with a rising prickle of annoyance. “I used to be part of a ranger squad who specialized in ecological conservation a few years back. We’d get ourselves into trouble like this all the time. Just need to know what you’re doing and how to do it, and uh,” Lukas shrugs, “well, when your life is kinda at stake, you tend to put everything you got into it.” What Lukas says seems to have worked. Jack returns to silence, eyeing the blond with skepticism before confirming with a nod.

“You’re pretty tough for a scrawny guy. I respect it.”

“Gee thanks…”

The rest of the walk back to BeaconTown is completely silent. Once they reach the town’s gates and dip in past the guards, Jack dismisses his squad with a curt nod. One of the men leaves without a problem, a girl following close behind. This other man, the short haired brunette from earlier, lingers too long for Lukas’ comfort. Aiden stands behind Jack, his face set with an unmoving angry expression that the author truly cannot understand. He’s never seen this man in his life, yet he looks at Lukas in a way that makes his blood run cold. Lukas glares back at him only for a second before turning away, returning his attention to Jack, the apparent leader of the group.

“I said you’re dismissed Aiden.” Jack repeats, glancing over his shoulder. “Go.” Aiden merely scoffs, shaking his head and mumbling something intelligible. Lukas glares at him as he goes, walking off down Beacon’s mainstreet, eventually disappearing somewhere in the darkness.

“With all due respect, what’s his problem?” Lukas asks, unsure if he’s stepping out of line with the question.

Jack merely sighs, shaking his head. “It’s complicated.”

Lukas sulks where he stands, completely drained of all the energy he felt during the afternoon run under the sun to the tree line. Jack looks up at him sympathetically, offering him a pat on his muddy forearm.

“Glad this ocelot of yours found us. I was in the middle of my evening cup of tea when this little guy came sprinting into town. Saw us at the café and, heh, you would’a gotten a real kick out of it. His tail was as fluffed and pointy as the trees you lost yourself in.”

Lukas isn’t sure he can find the same humor in that as Jack can. Lukas looks down at Dewey with a very worried expression. He feels guilty for what he’d gotten his ocelot into. The fear he must have felt. Lukas hangs his head low with sorrow, truly apologetic for his actions, or lack thereof. “I’m so sorry for worrying you, Dewey. I promise it won’t ever happen again.” Lukas leans down, petting his precious friend atop his soaked head.

“I sure hope you don’t.” Jack says suddenly, grabbing Lukas’ attention once again. Jack’s voice has strengthened into something stern and serious. His expression too has darkened with an emotion Lukas can’t quite place. “You heed those warning signs next time. Do not enter those woods again. It’ll cost you nothin’ but trouble, y’hear me?”

��Lukas opens his mouth to argue, but finds something restraining his heart, feeling as though he were restrained by chains pulling him back from what he wants to say. Instead, Lukas casts his gaze down and slowly nods, earning himself an approving hum from Jack.

“Good. That’s what I like to hear. You take care of yourself, Lukas. If you return to those woods, I won’t promise you’ll be making it back out.” Jack warns stiffly. After that, the man spares no more time with him, leaving Lukas to stand alone in the pouring right. Caked in mud and soaked from head to toe.

When he gets back to his room at the BeacInn, Lukas’ first instinct is to shower. He spends a long, long time under the hot stream of water, letting the warmth wash over and relieve his aching, tired muscles of all the stress and cold he’d undergone down in that mucky hole. Even with the harrowing embarrassment he was subjected to through that long trek back to BeaconTown, he can hardly pay any mind to it. His mind focuses all of its remaining energy back to the allay, but most of all, back to that massive shadowy entity that pulled him from the hole with what Lukas could only describe as magic itself.

When he leaves the bathroom, the rest of his hotel room is dark. Before he’d attended to his own shower, he had aided Dewey with a quick towel drying session, taking off his bandana to get that dirt splattered accessory cleaned too. Lukas shuts off the light, exiting the bathroom in his pajamas now. The only light he is granted is the dim natural light filtering in through the windows from the outside world. The rain has since softened, now nothing more than a late evening sprinkle. Lukas hesitates getting into bed, even as his body aches from his fall earlier. Instead, he approaches one of the windows again and looks out, gazing upon the tree line.

That creature. The one the allay brought to him. It saved him and… Lukas didn’t even have a chance to thank it.

Lukas’ eyes narrow on the trees and their shadows, already making up his mind. He can’t just avoid the forest because some strangers warned him not to. Especially not now. There’s something in there Lukas needs to understand, and he will do anything in his power to ensure he gets there.

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newsies-are-the-new-best-thing · 2 years

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A Study in Sprace

Jack doesn’t fall in love much, that is a lie ask any one of the newsies, but he found himself head-over-heels for a certain brunette journalist who was a girl (the girl thing was made clear to not be the focus of her description). A jolly tune was making its way to his mouth ready to begin humming along to the happy little song in his heart as he began climbing up the lodging house’s fire escape. Deciding a glimpse of the city below would settle his mind enough to begin thinking of sleep, he pulls himself onto the roof and then stumbles over himself when he spies a pair of boys already up there huddled together. If anyone asked why he decided to hide and listen to them, he’d say he wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything bad happening but in truth his brain was absolutely fried by the breath-taking sight of Kathrine, and he couldn’t snap himself back to reality to stop himself from eves-dropping.

“You’s think we’s could ever actually live t’ gether?” Race asks softly into the night air.

“…If you’s weren’t such a mess, maybes” Comes Spot’s quiet reply.

“Hey, fuck you’s Spot,” Race says laughing brightly, breaking the calm, and Jack suspects Race is shoving Spot in retaliation “you’re the one who can’t sew or cook worth shit.”

“You can’t cook neither.” Spot retorts and Jack can sense a sickeningly sweet smile spreading across the other’s face. “And I’m a fine sewer, I’s just ain’t sewin’ your clothes.”

“Why not” Race whines, Jack winces at the mental image the sound instills, big puppy-dog eyes staring up at him until he broke and did whatever the younger boy wanted, even if it ended up with him covered in mud, or flour, or sand, or- there were a lot of times Jack ended up covered in something due to Race.

“ ‘cause you’ll just leech offa me an I’ll get stuck sewin’ everythin’ …..maybe if you’s weren’t such a dick about-”

“Hey! I’s said it’s fine if you’s don’t want me aroun’ the other Brooklyn boys, I’m fine with it-” Jack could tell Race clearly wasn’t fine with it,

“You’s oughtta be, if you’s still wanna be with me-”

“Yeah, I’s do still wanna be with you so, think about it…. us livin’ t’gether, havin’ our own place”

“You’s sound like you’ve already picked outa paint color for the kitchen.” Spot grumbles.

“Ahh yes, it’ll be bright blue ta’ match with the plates we’d get. And o’ course, we’d hafta get a nice set a’ silverware”

“o’ course we’d need silverware Racer, we couldn’t eat with jus’ our hands-”

“Yeah, so a fancy set a silverware an’ a coffee pot for you’s an’ your special coffee. Jus’ picture it Spottie, wakin’ up in the mornin’, actually buyin’ a ‘pape ta’ read over the coffee I make ya’”

“You’s mean the coffee I’d make myself since you’s still asleep, snorin’ ‘till it’s noon”

“So, I’ll make ya’ lunch, any sorta sandwich you’s want, set out the fancy plates and forks, maybe even make some lemonade ta’ have with it.”

“…maybe ice cream too”

If Jack wasn’t love drunk this sappy conversation would have made his insides riot and involuntarily exit his mouth in protest. But he was, and all he could gather from Race and Spot’s sickening display of young love, was inspiration with a love of his own, hiding there on the rooftop, wondering if Kathrine also wanted a coffee pot in Jack’s rose-tinted future for them.

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A few thoughts I had....fits in with my series on Ao3, pretty much an excerpt or interlude of sorts between my latest fanfic and the one I have planned.

#newsies #sprace #race x spot #newsies fanfiction #jack x kathrine #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #my writing #mine

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queerworldtravelers · 3 months

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Sicilian Family Search

Aspra, Bagheria, Santa Flavia

We spent two months in Sicily looking for Krystal's family. Join us as we search the streets of Palermo in this 20 min long documentary. Transcript follows in English and Italian (Google Translated). Make some popcorn and be sure to leave a little space for processing:

vimeo

In the spring of 2023 I spent 2 months in Sicily looking for clues about two lines of my family, Salvatore Pecoraro and Angeline Distefano. There is a dark pain that rests deep in the minds and hearts of my family. I also wrestle these demons. My calling as a genealogist is rooted in the relentless pursuit of understanding the unsettled waters in myself and others. This is a story about seeking, being wrong, and not giving up until the truth is revealed. This is healing through storytelling.

Twenty one years ago my grandmother died on my father’s birthday. People recall my grandmother, Maryanne, as a rebellious teenager and unfit mother. She married my grandfather at the age of 16 and was three months pregnant when her mother and sister signed the marriage certificate as witnesses. My grandfather is listed as having no job and he would find himself in jail just a little over a year after their marriage leaving my grandmother with a new baby and pregnant with my father. The story continues from there and is rife with pain, more marriages, and unclear memories. On November 18, 1959 the Kenosha News paper ran a small excerpt on page 8: “Infant Son Dies Theodore John Mielke, the two-month-old son of Mr. and Mrs. LeRoy Mielke, died at Milwaukee Children’s Hospital Tuesday noon. The boy was born on Milwaukee Sept. 19…” and that is when things really came apart. All of the children were removed from the house. My father went to St. Amelian’s Orphanage and was raised by nuns and his brother and sisters we spread out through Milwaukee County.

My great grandfather was named Salvatore Pecoraro and went by Theodore in the United States. He married Angeline Distefano, my great grandmother. My second great grandfather was Giuseppe Pecoraro born in 1876 near Bagheria, Sicily. In June of 2022 I found an image on Ancestry of Giuseppe Pecoraro and I messaged the woman who posted it. She shared so much including tips about a trip she and her husband made 20 years earlier to Aspra, Sicily where the family still lives today. Details and connections were fuzzy because of the time that had lapsed, but she shared what she could remember. There is an Antonella and you must go find Antonella Pecoraro in Aspra. The photograph listed everyone, including Giuseppe’s father and mother: Antonion Pecoraro and Maria Vitale. I carried this photograph through the streets of Palermo asking everyone I could think of if they could tell me anything. The Archivio de Stato was able to locate the birth record for Antonino Pecoraro. Days of digging led to death records for Antonino and a marriage record for him and Maria Vitale. I added details and began figuring things out. Giuseppe Pecoraro was born in 1876 and Antonino and Maria Vitale were married in 1884.

I plotted all of the clues I had and discovered the location of the Pecoraro family home in Aspra. I had an image of the front of the building with cars parked perpendicular to the building. The streets in Sicily are very narrow and I knew not every building would have this feature. Sure enough I found it. We packed up a day pack and took the train to Bagheria from Santa Flavia. Aspra is about a 30 min walk from the train and Google Maps took us on a wild adventure down an old dirt road.

I wanted to stop by the anchovy museum. Something told me there would be clues there and I was absolutely right. Images and artifacts spread around old boats and tools guided our way as we wandered through the displays of past lives in Sicily. There were no tickets to this museum and it also seemed like there may be no people either. After a bit we turned a corner and found a man and couple capturing a video in one of the rooms. We entered quietly and then were greeted with a string of Italian. Google Translate to the rescue! After a moment it became clear: I returned to the land of my ancestors and the gregarious fellow, Michelangelo, was the founder of the museum. And so began our afternoon of immersion into the history of Aspra, Sicily and the importance of returning to the land of your ancestors. Michelangelo and the other folks that day taught me about the importance of returning to the places where we are from with our hearts open. The memories of fishing, song, and creativity are imprinted in my bones and having the opportunity to spend an afternoon learning and engaging was truly a gift. Magic is waiting if we give it a chance to find us.

We stopped in a small cafe by the sea for a snack before venturing to the door of the house of the Pecoraor’s of Aspra. Armed with a hand-written note explaining my mission in Italian: “I am a descendant of Giuseppe Pecoraro and Sheila Pecoraro shared information that helped me find you” we walked up to the door. Faded tape on the mailbox held the faint outline of “Pecoraro.” We found it and I rang the doorbell knowing full well that whoever answered was certainly not going to speak English. Gulp. The slats of the shutter opened and a suspicious woman grumbled. I slipped the note through the crack in the door and pulled up my trusty family photo. I do not speak Italian, but facial features communicate a thousand words and her face told me “WHAT?!” Just then Antonella came out from the side door with her daughter. On their way out and through broken English we shared that I am a descendant of Giuseppe Pecoraro and I have come here to say hello. Antonella had to go and said we should go inside.

Through gestures and Italian commands we were directed to sit at the kitchen table. One second. From the back of the house emerged an 85 year old man in a fishing hat and flannel. Time to get out Google Translate. Except he only spoke SIcilian…which is not Italian, not even close. We were able to suss out that this gentleman is the son of Giuseppe Pecoraro and who am I? Our dear friend Janel in Rome said to call anytime we got into trouble. It was time to phone a friend. Janel was on speaker, the daughter was shouting in Italian, and the father was pleading with Mary in Sicilian. “They are saying they do not know a Salvatore Pecoraro.”

Absolutely devastated, we walked back up to the Bagheria train stop as the sun set over the orange orchards. Just as we settled in the Pecoraro family from Aspra called and let me know they were IN Porticello. What?! The whole family drove to Porticello and they found us at the bar. They sat and explained the family tree again, and again. The family was right, the Giuseppe in Aspra was not related to me. What I believed to be true, based on clues from other family trees I found on Ancestry, was not true at all. I had spent weeks in Palermo looking for the wrong family which was a crushing realization. There is no way Giuseppe of 1876 is the same Giuseppe.

Mary pulled a muscle in her back and the next morning the only place she was going was the couch. I absolutely had to get to the city hall in Bagheria to pull the birth record for Salvatore and Giuseppe Pecoraro. It was the only piece of evidence that would lead to the truth. I arrived at what appeared to be the tax office which was crowded with people. Then I walked across town to another building that may have been a record office. Nope, that wasn’t it either. A really nice lady directed me back to the tax office. I stood across the street and watched the total chaos. Imagine the DMV only in a language you do not understand. I typed a message on my phone “I am hoping to find my great grandfather’s record” and walked up to the security guard. He yelled a few things at me in Italian and I just smiled and held up my phone. Frustrated, he pointed to a blue door across the room and I recognized “Anagrafe” - this was it. The door was closed and the waiting room was filled with shouting children. Five weeks in Sicily taught me to just open the door and that is exactly what I did.

An interesting man was sitting at a very messy desk punching keys in his keyboard with his index fingers. He was shielded behind a towering stack of paper and motioned for me to enter. I showed him my phone message and handed him a hand-writted family tree that included the details for the people I knew were related to me: Salvatore Pecoraro, Giuseppe Pecoraro, and his wife Maria Giagnate. He took the paper and left me in the room alone. I sat amongst the stacks of record requests and prayed. I don’t usually pray, but weeks in Sicily made me think the only people who would answer me right now would be listening for prayers. The man returned and indicated that he found all of the records, including marriage records. Follow him. So I did. He took me back into the stacks and there were all of the scripted records from 147 years ago. I cried. We used Google Translate to communicate and he indicated he would make official copies of everything. I went back to the office and waited. When he returned with all of the records he excitedly pointed at the name of Maria Giante’s father: Cosimo - that was his name too. How could I ever thank this person? He suggested a photo with the original record book, and then a selfie together, and then a hug. And that is when I realized Cosimo was eager to help for reasons that may not have been apparent to me, a married lesbian.

I am grateful to the Pecoraro family in Aspra for taking hours to explain that their Giusseppe was not my Giusseppe. This experience has grounded me in the importance of primary sources and generated a great appreciation for documenting and telling our ancestral stories for younger generations.

A story that hadn’t been told in my family was that of Salvatore Pecoraro’s wife, my great grandmother Angeline Distefano. The search for her began in Phoenix, Arizona. There we spent time with my great Aunt Janet and she shared stories of her mother. Was she adopted? Where was she born? What was her story? While we were in Berlin I had a phone call with Aunt Janet and she remembered a name: Emma Gioia. She remembered that her mother said this was her name in Italy and that she remembered living in a big house as a child. A quick search on Ancestry immediately revealed a ship manifest with an Emma Gioia traveling with her step mother, Giovanna Mercurio from S. Flavia. From Berlin we booked two weeks in Santa Flavia, Sicily and committed to searching for Emma.

Upon arrival in Santa Flavia I went to the city hall. The records are indexed online and I did not find anything for an Emma Gioia born January 12, 1912, but maybe there is something I did not know. On our way to the city hall we passed an old abandoned building with “Orfanotrofio Pezzillo” scrawled below a statue of the Virgin Mary. At city hall we were connected with several ladies who pulled down the 1912 record book. Nope not here. What about the Orphanage? Did they have the records at city hall? The lady responded “what orphanage?” Ah, we left the cookies we brought and went on our way.

A few days later the owner of the local bar caught wind of my mission and said he would take me to city hall to meet with his friend Nancy. Walking into the tiny city hall with the local bar owner turned many heads. I can only imagine. We walked through the familiar doors and knocked on the very door I had been to just days before. Nancy was the same lady I spoke to just a few days earlier. She still had no answers, but this time she shared that I should go to the records office in Palermo. I went to Palermo; I went to the church; I sat outside of the orphanage and begged Emma Gioia to come out of the woodwork; I asked our hosts who connected us to an older gentleman who knows everyone in Porticello, he asked all of the elders if they remembered a Giovanna Mercurio or a little adopted girl.

I am not one to give up. I will keep looking until I find a clue, but this was proving to be a monumental task. On our last morning I stood at the train station in Santa Flavia and accepted that I would have to leave without finding a single trace of Emma Gioia. As the priest repeated to me: mi dispiace (I am sorry). Just then, in the minutes before the train arrived to take us to Palermo, a second cousin posted Emma Gioia’s adoption record to a family Facebook group. The title of the document: “Istituto dei Trovatelli”, Foundling Institute. A foundling is an abandoned child of unknown parents. Child abandonment was so widespread in Sicily that the churches installed wheels that allowed mothers to set their baby in the wheel outside of the church and turn the baby inside without ever being seen. My great grandmother was abandoned as an infant in Palermo, Sicily. She was adopted a year later by Angelo Distefano and Giovanna Mercurio. Six years later they traveled to the US and Emma was listed on the ship manifest as having no family in Italy, the step-daughter, and paid her own passage.

This is only the beginning of a great unraveling of how my grandmother’s inability to be a fit mother was tied to my great grandmother’s experience being abandoned at birth. Where do the demons rest in this story that has never been told?

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downtherabbitholeshegoes28 · 1 year

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Listen baby, let's get one thing straight from the start, I am not and will never be jealous of you. You have absolutely nothing to be jealous of. You ain't shit. You get likes on the internet, you want a cookie? You get likes on tumblr, where people don't know you, I get likes in person, in real life, because people know me. I don't give a shit if 1 person or 1000000 like my shit, news flash bitch, it's my blog. I post what I like, what I want, what interest me, I don't do that shit for other people. It's for me. I don't give a what people think about me, especially strangers on the internet. You are so worried about me and what I'm doin. I can 100% say I haven't went to your page. I don't stalk your shit because you make me sick. I just don't block you because I know your good at making shit up in your head. Then you spread rumors you've made up so people feel sorry for you. You block me and then blast shit that isn't true because you don't have the balls to say it to my face. You ain't shit. Noone wishes they was you. Noone. Im done with it. I do think I said the last time I saw you,I told keep my name out of your mouth. I don't appreciate you sayin you understood, then continue to run your mouth. It better stop. You've really done enough to me. You tell everyone I wanna be you when you are so obsessed with me. Bitch you a fan. You said I'm mad when you post a video of you on his bike, why would I be mad? I actually rode the bike, you got to take pictures on it, he taught me to drive one. You say I'm mad about you posting deep throat video, baby I ain't got a reason to be mad, you was just mad I was actually deep throating and all you was doin was bein a fan posting a video from years ago. I just wanted to let you know I'm not jealous. I will never be jealous of so.eone who hated me before she knew me. I would never be jealous of your fake ass. Good luck with your life boo, you need to do some soul searching your wasting your time hating so.eone that don't give a shit about anything you do. I just wanted to be clear and known. Keep my name out of your mouth @bamababygirl7 it keeps getting brought to my attention that you love the way my name taste. It needs to stop. You need to learn to leave me alone. Im done with your stupid shit.

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awindylife-writes · 3 years

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The Bar

Relationships: 10th Doctor x reader, Jack Harkness x reader (platonic)

Summary: Jack, the Doctor and you go to a bar. You are drugged and a man tries to take you but the Doctor luckily intervenes in time.

Warnings: attempted sexual assault, but nothing graphic

"C'm on guys, there's this really great bar on the far side of Kristella, the lnky Sky," Jack insisted. "They serve everything you could want to drink, they've got live music and there's a festival coming! It's like Halloween on Earth, but the whole planet does it. They've even got punch!"

You grinned, "Well, l'm in." Why not? You wanted to have the experience with the two best friends you had, and it wasn't just any day you could go to an alien bar.

The Doctor and Jack looked at you in surprise.

"What?" you glanced between them, eyebrows raised.

"I mean it's just..." Jack began, "l never thought you were a bar enthusiast."

"Oh, l'm not," you assured him. "I just don't see why we shouldn't go. I mean, we faced the Shadows of Onn just two days ago and then the whole icky Persistence Incorporated lot like, yesterday. A bar should be a nice change of pace, unless you really don't want to go, Doctor?" Both you and Jack turned to look at him and he rubbed the back of his neck under your gazes.

"Weeeell, if you insist," the Doctor shrugged his shoulders and Jack pumped the air, "Yes!"

"Aright then," you smiled. "Jack, what exactly do we want to wear?"

The TARDIS wardrobe awaited you.

So far, so good, you thought to yourself.

You had arrived at the bar and quickly claimed a stand-by table. You were lucky you had gotten it, there wasn't much space left. A band was playing, as Jack had promised, and there were enough people dancing to create a crowd. The music was alien and had some surprising metaphors, but there was a nice rhythm to it and you found yourself nodding along. You apprechiated the volume too, it was quiet enough to talk over it where you were standing.

The before-mentioned punch cost a laughable two Eeti and most took the generous opportunity, you included. Nevermind the Doctor and his "It smells funny" comments. Jack ordered something bright pink and alien at the bar while you scooped the punch into a glass. The Doctor stuck with apple juice.

It didn't take long for Jack to spot a cute guy at a table next to yours. You and the Doctor smiled knowingly when they started flirting across the way. Soon, Jack gave you a questioning look and you laughed. "Go on," you nodded your head towards the neighbouring table.

He smiled in grattitude and hugged you hurriedly. You patted his back.

"Go on, get outta here," the Doctor told Jack, voice warm.

"I want you back before noon, got it?" you levelled Jack's gaze in mock seriousness. He flipped you a salute before walking out, hand in hand with the guy.

The Doctor and you continued your conversation. As he rambled on about the rings of Ahknaten, you rubbed your eyes. Was it just you or was everything getting a little blurry? Maybe your alchohol tolerance was even lower than you had thought.

Then you noticed the Doctor was eyeing Jack's half finished drink, and you could tell he was curious.

"C'm on, Doctor," you grinned at him. "This is exactly the place and the time to try something like this."

He gave you a questioning look, and you nudged him with your elbow. "I dare you."

"Weeell, you see, now l just can't refuse. My honor absolutely cannot take a hit like this," he shook his head in mock offence, a smile playing at his lips. He carefully held the glass and took a tentative sip. His eyes widened in surprise.

"Ooh, is it any good?" You had to make an effort to sound chirpy. Maybe all the running was finally catching up to you, because you felt like you were about to nod off.

The Doctor cocked his head. "Actually, it's sweet. I didn't even consider alcohol could be sweet, didn't even think. Who made alcohol sweet? Brilliant invention I mean, if my taste buds have anything to say about it. It's not gonna have an effect on me, me being a Time Lord and all that, but l've never bothered with stuff like this, it didn't seem nearly as interesting as a new world behind the TARDIS door, but now that l consider it-"

"You're gonna go order another one?" You gently interjected his rambling.

"Mhm, yeah, l'll definitely order another one," he answered with a grin.

"Good for you. Oh, and you could go pay as well?" you suggested. You didn't think you would be ordering anything else, not with your head as fuzzy as it was.

He took the money out of his pocket (you had reminded him to get some before you'd arrived, it wasn't exactly like you, a human from Earth, had Kristellan currency on hand). "I'll be right back," he promised you and headed for the bar.

You didn't mind standing there at the table on your own, but it was a little akward. You felt like a sore thumb, standing out from the mixture of creatures around you. You watched the people at the edge of the dance floor, their shapes and colours blurring. Was that supposed to happen? You couldn't seem to take enough air in, though you tried to breathe deeply. The mist in your mind spread, and bit by bit it got harder to think. You stared vacantly at the moving shapes, trying to remember where the Doctor had gone. Why were your legs so weak?

Then there was someone at your side, holding your hand and asking you something. Something about dancing? You nodded, unsure what he wanted, and he grinned. Then he pulled you from the table, and that wasn't right. You were in the middle of the crowd now, and the green tinted man had his arms around you. What was happening?

The Doctor found himself staring at the punch bowl while he waited for his drink. There was something about it, something niggling at the back of his brain.

Then the air moved, and he could smell the scent of it again. But what was that, that tinge, something barely there, something like an acid? Something hydroxy... something with butan... hydroxybutan....

Y-hydroxibutanoic acid. The Doctor felt his blood run cold.

He whipped around and grabbed the unsuspecting barista by her wrist. "Listen to me, right now," he growled and her golden eyes widened. "That punch bowl is spiked, and everyone here could be in danger. Do something about it."

She nodded in horror so he knew she understood the urgency and turned to her colleague, her voice grave. He left all his money on the counter without a thought, he needed to find y/n.

When he arrived back at your table, you were gone. He looked around in panic. You had drunk the punch at least twenty minutes ago, which was definitely enough time for the drug to kick in. If anyone tried-

Then he finally found you. His hearts sped up. A man with his hand around you was pulling you through the crowd, towards the door. The Doctor saw your wobbling, unsteady steps, saw you still try to get the man's hands off of you.

White-hot fury exploded in his chest, it burned everything away. His hands tightened into fists at his sides and trembled with his rage. Blood rushed in his ears as he gritted his teeth into a snarl. This was it, this was what Daleks were afraid of. He ripped through the crowd withought a thought to anyone.

Upon reaching you, he pushed the two of you apart. The creep stumbled to the side but at once, the Doctor gently took you by the shoulders to hold you up. Yes, there was fury in him enough to scorch planets, but this was you.

Your eyes foggy, you tensed in his arms and shakily tried to break free, but he soothed you with a soft voice. "Hey, hey, it's me, it's the Doctor." You immediately stopped fighting.

"Doct'r," you slurred and fell into his chest, eyes half closed.

"What the hell, man?" the creep demanded.

The Doctor pressed you against his side and turned so he was holding you up the furthest you could be from the man who had tried to- No. He couldn't even think about it.

"Hey! Dont cockblo-" the turd came at the two of you but the Doctor grabbed his lapel and pulled him close. The creep's eyes went wide as he tried to break free.

It was easy, so incredibly easy to hold him in place. The Time Lord rarely used his full strength, always relayed on his mind, because he'd seen what war meant. But now the restraints were snapping like paper strings and the beast in him rattled its chains.

"You get one warning, just one. So listen closely," he growled in the turd's face. "Run. Run far and run fast, because if l see you, if l so much as smell you in the wind, l will find you, and l will teach you the meaning of hell." He suddenly released the creep who stubled from the force of it and scurried away, into the crowd.

The Doctor looked down at you and all rage evaporated. Your head was resting on his shoulder and you were leaning into him to stay upright. Your eyes were closed. He gripped you a little tighter and cooed, "Hey there. Let's get you home, aright?"

You hummed, only half-coherent at best, and nuzzled into him. Butterflies immediately filled his stomack, but this was not the time for that. He tried to take a step, but it soon became apparent that you couldn't walk.

The Doctor carefully lifted you into his arms and headed for the TARDIS.

When you two finally reached your room, he gently sat you on the bed where you wobbled a little but stayed upright. He kneeled down and unlaced your shoes. When they were off, he thought you would want him to leave, but then he felt your warm hand clumsily catch his.

"Stay," you mumbled and he looked up into your hazy eyes.

He felt his hearts beat faster at the soft look you gave him. He wanted to find that man and rip him apart, he wanted to give you the universe, wanted to wrap himself around you and never leave.

He could never refuse you.

"Alright," he whispered. He slowly stood up and pulled back the covers so you could get into the bed, then he took off his jacket and his shoes.

When he clambered in, he planned on staying away from you, but you found him and pressed yourself against him. You lay your head on his chest as your hands hugged his sides. When you nuzzled your cheek into his shirt and sighed in content, he felt something soft and warm spread through him. Of course he'd known you trusted him, but this- You were helpless, utterly helpless, and you trusted him to hold you. A thousand stars glowed in his chest as he put his arms around you.

A voice in his head told him he maybe shouldn't be enjoying this, considering the cause that had led you two here, but it was small and distant and not impossible to ignore. You were safe.

He nuzzled his cheek into your hair and fell asleep with you in his arms.

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctorwho #doctorwho x reader #the doctor x reader #tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor x reader #the doctor #10th doctor #tenth doctor #doctor who fanfiction #doctorwho fanfiction #jack harkness #jack #jack x reader #reader insert

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winter-soldier-vibes · 3 years

Text

I wasn’t there

Bucky x reader

Word count: 2510

Warnings: self harm/self harm scars, little bit of angst, mostly comfort, tears

Summary: Reader self harms and Bucky sees her scars one day on a mission by accident. He feels guilty and wants to help her as much as he can now that he knows.

Based on the quotes: "Show me your scars, I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn't there"

A/N: Thank you SO MUCH to the anon who sent this in! Not going to lie I was bawling writing this, I love it so much. This deals with heavy topics and mental health so as always, if you feel that reading this will be harmful to your journey in any way, please feel free to skip it. As always, I am here to talk about anything you guys may need.

A/N 2: Ok there’s a part at the end that I don’t think is technically canon but it’s rumored and has been talked about before in regards to some of Bucky’s scarring on his left arm. I know it’s not a confirmed canon thing but it honestly works so well and I believe it’s true, please don’t come at me for that. <3

Tags: @buckys2thicc @thatfangirl42 @mardema @stucky-on-spiderman @barnesplums @peggycarter-steverogers @abitgryffindorky @buckfics @freigeistundanderes

Main Masterlist

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You trudged back to your room in the compound, exhaustion taking over your body. You had just gotten back from a mission that had taken the life out of you, more so than any others on the team. You had the power to control elements, but whenever you did it drained the energy out of you. At one point you had been surrounded, forcing you to lift the ground around you to knock everyone back.

It was more than you had ever done at once, and nearly made you pass out.

You were able to finish the mission, but you were absolutely exhausted, the worried eyes of Steve, Bucky, Bruce, and Natasha looking over at you. Nat was flying the quinjet, but still glanced back at you from time to time. Bruce was there mainly for medical help, as there wasn’t need for a code green. Steve was just Steve, being worried about you as your Captain. And as the friend of your boyfriend.

Bucky meanwhile would not leave your side. He was concerned, even after Bruce had determined you were nothing more than completely exhausted. He insisted on you lying down and him staying next to you. It was nice to know that he cared about you so much, he would do anything to protect you.

Which is what made your heart ache when you saw his face drop when you had said you were fine, and walked off to your room when you had arrived home.

It wasn’t that you wanted to be around him, not at all. It was just that you wanted to take a shower and wash the sweat and grime off of you, and you didn’t want him to see. Not yet, you hadn’t told him yet.

When you closed the door to your room, you peeled off your uniform, exposing your skin littered with scars varying in depth and age. You turned the water on and leaned against the countertop as you took in yourself.

God, you hated them.

You had struggled with self harm for a while now, but it was better than it had been before. It had been really bad before you had started dating Bucky. It’s not like it magically went away when you did, not at all, but just being around him made it easier. Him telling you how much he loved you, spending time with you, you helping him feel more secure. You weren’t alone in your head as much,

He helped and he didn’t even know it.

You traced your fingers over the most recent ones on your wrist from a few days ago. They had scabbed over by now, but the memory was still fresh in your mind. It was a panic attack in the middle of the night, and you didn’t want to wake anyone. You knew this would help you and it did. It grounded you back to the moment, calming you down as you focused on the stinging sensation rather than the panic.

You looked down at all the other marks you had made. Most of them were on your thighs, because they were the easiest to hide. It was easier to wear pants in the summer than long sleeves. But you were running out of room, moving to your arms instead, trying to stay away from your wrists. But a few days ago you couldn’t even think about it through your panic attack. Sometimes you couldn’t think about it, being so overwhelmed that you weren’t quite aware of what you were doing until you saw the blood.

You remembered making every single one of them. They all had a story, a reason. And all of them were different.

You wanted to tell Bucky, you knew you would have to eventually. The two of you had avoided intimacy up until now, and slept in different rooms unless either of you was having a rough night and asked the other to stay. It wasn’t that you didn't want to be intimate with him, you had been together for months. But you had to tell him about this first

And you couldn’t find a way to quite yet.

You just couldn’t find the right time or words. You didn’t want to scare him off, and you didn’t want him to look at you in the sad, concerned way that people usually do with this sort of thing. You didn’t want to put this on him. And you for sure didn’t want him to blame himself.

You sighed, tearing your gaze from the mirror. You stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash over you. You stood there like that for a few minutes before you moved to wash your body, taking your time. You had no plans tonight other than going to sleep.

Bucky had watched you walk slowly back into the tower, wanting to follow you but also wanting to respect your boundaries and space. You were exhausted, but he wanted nothing more than to comfort you the entire night. But you didn’t want him too, and he wanted to respect that.

Still, it broke his heart to watch you limp away. He felt helpless.

He couldn’t help but wonder if something was wrong with you. The way that the two of you had been together for as long as you had without some form of intimacy. He was patient, he would never want to push you, but he wondered why. Whenever the two of you had a conversation you had seemed to stiffen slightly and get uncomfortable.

He never pressed it. Just dropped it and hugged you, telling you it was fine to wait.

But the more time passed, the more helpless he felt. He felt like you were hiding something from it. He just wished he knew what it was so he could better help you. But in a way he understood. Everything that he had gone through - forcing someone to open up usually unintentionally makes them shut down.

Even so, as he went back to his room he couldn’t stop thinking of you. He took his own quick shower, putting on sweats and a T-shirt before he came to check on you. He just wanted to make sure you were alright.

You had gotten out of the shower yourself, slowly drying yourself off before going back to your dresser to find something comfortable to wear. It was brutally hot and you were exhausted, pulling on a tank top and shorts. You were about to go back to lie down when you heard a soft knock on the door.

You sighed in frustration, closing your eyes for a moment. “Yeh, just a minute,” you said, exhausted, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a loose sweatshirt to pull over yourself. You walked over to the door and opened it slightly, giving the man in front of you a tired smile.

“Hey Bucky.”

Bucky’s face softened, a small smile spreading on his face. “Hey doll. I - I know you said you wanted some time to yourself but I just wanted to check on you.”

You smirked at him slightly. “I’m just about the same as when we walked off the quinjet Bucky.” You shrugged, tugging your sleeves down - nervous habit. “I’ll be fine, I’m just really tired.”

Bucky looked you up and down quickly. “You sure?”

You hesitated a moment longer than you should’ve, quickly bringing yourself out of it. “Yeah.”

“You don’t sound sure,” he said gently. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

“Look I’m fine, I just want to go to sleep. I’m exhausted.”

“Please? Let me take care of you, it’s been a long day,” he said.

“You don’t have to Bucky,” you started, shaking your head lightly.

“I want to,” he assured you.

Sighing, you opened the door more to let him in. it wasn’t that you didn’t want him to stay, you did in a way. You always slept better with him there. You just really wanted to take off the sweats. But that would mean having a conversation that you weren’t ready for.

Sweat was better than tears.

You climbed into bed and Bucky laid down beside you, wrapping his arm around you. He kissed the temple of your head as you relaxed back against his chest. “Try to get some rest sweetheart.”

You hummed, already feeling exhaustion overtake you as you closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep faster than you ever had.

-----------

You woke the next morning feeling much better than the night before. You shifted slightly, feeling Bucky’s arms still around you.

“Good morning sleeping beauty.”

“What? What time is it?” you asked sleepily.

Bucky chuckled behind you. “It is almost noon.”

Your eyes widened as you started to sit up. “What? I slept that long? How long have you been awake, I’m sorry -”

“Hey, sweetheart, don’t worry about it. I've been awake for a while but it’s no problem. You needed the rest and I’m glad you got it.”

You hummed again in acknowledgement, reaching your hands up to rub your eyes. What you hadn’t realized was that while you were asleep, your sleeves had ridden up slightly. You never had to worry about your wrists because you had never gone down that low on your arms.

“Angel, what’s that?” Bucky asked, grabbing your arm gently to get a better look. You took your arm away quickly, tugging your sleeve down. You shook your head and crossed your arms as you stood up. “It’s nothing, really. I’m gonna go shower.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Bucky said, standing and walking over to you. You tensed, and he noticed. “Did someone hurt you?”

“Please drop it Bucky,” you pleaded, still unable to meet his eyes.

“Y/n I swear if someone hurt you -”

“I did it.” you blurted out, surprising you both. You took a shaky breath, and Bucky felt his heart drop, praying he had heard you wrong.

“What?” he asked, barely audible. The only noise was your heart hammering in your ears. You swallowed, looking down at the ground and fiddling with your sleeves again.

“I hurt myself sometimes,” you said with a small shrug. “It helps.”

“With what?” he asked, carefully.

You met his eyes, tears pricking your own. “Everything.”

Silence. Bucky walked towards you slowly, pulling you into a hug, as you closed your eyes, silent tears falling. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how to.” you said simply. “I was embarrassed and ashamed, and I didn’t want you to blame yourself.”

He held you tightly, rubbing a hand up and down your back as more tears fell despite you trying to hold them back. “Can I see?”

You pulled back and tensed up, looking at him. “What?”

“Show me your scars,” he said.

You shook your head slightly, confused. “Why?”

“Because I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn’t there,” he whispered.

You looked at him for a moment. “Bucky, I can’t do that, I -”

“Please y/n,” he whispered. “It’s just me.”

You studied him for a moment before nodding. With shaky hands, you pulled the sweatshirt over your head, dropping it on the floor and resisting the urge to cross your arms. You stepped out of your sweatpants next, keeping your eyes downcast. You heard a sharp intake of breath from Bucky, but you weren’t able to look at him yet.

Bucky felt his heart shatter at the scars littered across your arms. There were so many marks, he didn’t want to even think about how many there were. He felt tears prick his eyes but he knew he had to be strong right now. It pained him how much you were hurting and how oblivious he was. He took your hands in his, you still unable to look at him.

“I’m so sorry it took me this long to be there for you.”

You shook your head, looking at him. “Don’t do that to yourself, please, it’s not your fault Bucky. You’re the reason it’s not worse.” You turned around and crossed your arms. “ I’m sorry, Bucky, I didn’t know how to tell you. They’re ugly, they’re disgusting. I’m disgusting. Who’s so fucked up that they have to slice open their skin to make themselves feel better? I hate myself more than anyone I’ve ever known. How pathetic is that?”

“Y/n, can you look at me?”

Trying to blink back tears, you met his gaze again, his eyes glassy. “Your fight is our fight. None of this is your fault, don’t apologize for how you had to fight on your own. I’m here now, okay?” His hand ghosted over your scars. “These scars right here are your battle scars. They tell your story of how strong you are. Never be afraid or ashamed of that, okay?”

You looked down, still embarrassed.

“Hey, y/n. It’s okay.”

Before you could respond, Bucky took off his own shirt, something he had never done in front of you. Your eyes found the scars where metal met skin, most of them faded but had obviously been deep. You reached your hand out to trace over his scars.

“When they gave me this arm and they were starting to tortue me I would scratch at it. Whenever I had been out of cryo for long enough I would start to remember and claw at it too, before they wiped me again. I thought I was a monster.”

You shook your head. “No, Bucky that wasn’t your fault, you didn’t ask for Hydra to do all those things to you.”

“You didn’t ask for your mental struggles either. So why are you ashamed?”

“You didn’t ask for the metal arm, you wanted to get rid of it. It wasn’t in your control. This, what I do, I choose to do it every time. It doesn’t feel like a choice but I still pick up the knife.”

“But I bet if you could you would choose to put it down, yeah?” he brushed a piece of hair out of your eyes. “It’s okay y/n. Don’t be ashamed of how you helped yourself survive.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and pulled you into another hug. “Don’t apologize for letting me be a part of your story.”

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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years

Note

The neither route was amazing! If you ever get ideas for it pls continue because i found it really interesting. You are a great writer.

Okay! This route actually made me very happy, but unfortunately, as much as I wanted to write it, I didn't know how exactly to do it? If that makes sense?

Context is HERE- The very end of the story is the Neither route.

TW: Anxiety, mentioned nightmares, mentioned Tubbo threatening Ranboo, guilt

I would also like to say that cuddling is platonic.

Left The Game (Plat!C!Ranboo x GN!Reader x Parental!C!Philza) Headcanon/Fic (Part 3???)

Ranboo Beloved joined the game.

(Y/n) (L/n) joined the game.

Michael Underscore-Beloved joined the game.

You and Ranboo tumbled out of the swirling portal and hit the ground with a hard thud, dirt and sand kicking up around you both upon impact.

Before you could comprehend what happened, a small squeal came from behind you and something slammed into your back, causing a groan to pull itself from your chest.

The monochrome male mumbled from beside you, his face practically buried in the grass which caused his words to be muffled.

His crown had rolled a few feet away, and his bags had opened as well, sending a few of his tools scattering, but everything seemed to be intact?

You slurred a mess of words before spitting out the sand that had gathered up in your mouth, attempting to tell the tall male that you were alive.

At least somewhat.

You both knew that you three had to drag yourselves into Phil's house, but the travel was so exhausting. Sleeping in the dirt sounded so tempting...

A quiet whine sounded from the weight on your back, reminding you that Michael had also come into the server with you.

When Ranboo got up, he picked the zombie piglin up from where he sat on your back, allowing you to get up.

You both, plus Michael who was resting on Ranboo's hip, began to pick up everything that had dropped out of the portal with you.

Once everything was gathered up, you three wandered through the iron doors of Philza's home and looked around curiously.

Two cats, one named Pog and one named Champ, came up to you both, chirping and meowing eagerly before pausing suddenly. They most likely expected Phil...

Michael gave a loud squealing noise at the sight of the cats and squirmed out of Ranboo's hold, running over to pet the cats.

Ranboo set off to find food in the chests, scribbling in his memory book the entire time.

You, on the other hand, dug through your bags to find materials you had brought to make three beds. One yellow, one grey and the other (f/c).

Once you placed each of them beside each other, Michael eagerly hopped into the middle one (the yellow one), while Ranboo walked over with plates of steamed carrots and baked potatoes.

"Stressed?" He mumbled softly, watching you stare down at your wrist where the tattoo of a heart with deep grooves in the center rested. The exact place the three hearts tattoos were, "I-I know, it's going to be a little different... But... Maybe it's a good different! ...Please, eat something and then get some sleep. Phil will check on us in the morning, and you know how he can get..."

With a smile, he handed you the plate and a fork before sitting on the floor at the foot of the beds with his own plate. Luckily he had given Michael a golden apple before he had gone to look for food, so the child was quietly drifting off to sleep, "Do... You really think that running was the best option?" You whispered, taking a bite of the vegetables.

"I... What else could we have done?" He frowned, setting his crown beside him before taking a bite of his own food, "We couldn't fight them... and they were definitely not going to let you go so easily. Hell... Tubbo... My own fiance was threatening to kill me because I was talking to you and caring for your burns!" He hissed, tilting his head back with his eyes pinched shut tightly, trying so hard not to cry.

You quickly walked over and moved his plate so it rested on his bed and you wrapped your arms around him tightly. The enderman hybrid eagerly returned the hug, crying into your shoulder so the fabric of your clothes soaked up his tears, "Should... I have just... Accepted their love, and maybe learn to love them back? For everyone's sake?" You whispered, your voice wavering as you tried to keep your composure.

"Absolutely not!" He yanked himself back from your shoulder to give you a glare, "That relationship would not have been healthy whether you loved either of them or not! They would've kept you locked away like a prized possession, and they would've severely hurt anyone who tried to interact with you!"

"I- I know... But..." You glanced down, but Ranboo tilted your head upwards so you were looking at him, but you still avoided eye contact so it didn't make him uncomfortable, "Your... Your relationship..."

Ranboo sighed, "I know. But, I'd rather that he showed me his true colours and I divorced him again for that, rather than him manipulating someone into loving him... and putting everyone else in danger in response. Now. We have a lot to do tomorrow. Finish eating and get some sleep."

The next morning, Philza practically slammed open the iron doors to his own house, looking a tad bit out of breath and a bit frazzled.

Once he saw you, Michael and Ranboo curled up in a small cuddle pile on the three different coloured beds, he gave a loud sigh of relief and adjusted his striped bucket hat.

Thankfully, the father of Minecraft let you three sleep for a little while before waking you and Ranboo up around noon.

First, he gave you both spare elytra's and so you could keep up with his massive black avian wings.

Ranboo's turned into massive black and purple dragon wings, while yours turned into (f/c) (f/a) wings.

Phil showed you both the end realm and his Endlantis, which he gave Ranboo special water protection potions so he could swim through the waters as well.

This man basically treated you three as if you were his own children!

Taught you how to fly.

Taught you how to cook properly.

Everything!

And basically survive with bare minimums.

Once you both got better at flying, a few months later, Philza rEAAALLY wanted to take you to the massive project he called Nether Void.

"Ready, mates?" Philza walked over and ruffled the hair on both your and Ranboo's heads with a soft smile, somehow unbothered by the blistering heat of the hellscape, "Double check your potions, armour durability and food supply."

Ranboo mostly stopped wearing his crown because it had problems staying on when he flew and because it had a lot of memories tied to it, so he didn't want it damaged. He had also stopped wearing his tux, instead, he wore plain black pants and a white ruffled poet shirt with a purple short cape that had a golden trim and gold chains, which was a gift from Philza.

You on the other hand wore something similar but with a(n) (f/c) poet shirt and a(n) (f/c) and gold cape. Your cape was also a gift from the fatherly figure as well, and so was the (f/c) infinity scarf type fabric wrapped around your shoulder over your chest that helped you carry and protect Michael as you flew, "Yep, we're ready to go, Mr. Dadza Minecraft!" You gave him a mock salute with a smile as he laughed.

Ranboo checked on Michael who was nibbling on a golden apple before he helped put the zombie piglin child into your scarf carrier, "Yeah, everyone seems safe!" He chirped softly as he adjusted his cape to spread his wings, shaking them out a bit in the heat of the lava.

"Let's go!" You cheered softly once you made sure Michael was 100% secure and wouldn't fall out somehow, "Food is stocked up and in my bag, as well as Regen and Health pots, and a first aid kit and two extra totems."

Philza gave you a proud father smile and took off first, hovering in the air for a few seconds as he waited for both of you to catch up. Thankfully, he knew very well that you both likely would never be able to catch up to his skill in flying as he had been born with massive feathered wings hundreds of years ago. You and Ranboo had never been into the air until a few months ago. Once you both caught up, he took off and soared through the burning hot nether.

Phil loved telling you both the stories of the lands. The Blaze Empress who lived in the Quartress, the foolish Ender King...

You and Ranboo always listened to his stories with such eagerness, often asking him to retell the stories when you were having a bad day or just wanted to relax.

The elder male actually greatly enjoyed having two children to raise again, even if he didn't have the best track record with sane children.

When he did leave to go to the DreamSMP, he would always promise you both that he would be safe and NEVER left without saying goodbye, even if he was angry or upset with either one of you.

He never wants his last words to someone to be filled with anger or hatred.

Somedays he would go to the SMP, you and Ranboo would not leave the house, just out of fear that he wouldn't come back, or that Tubbo and Tommy would come out instead of Phil.

Both you and Ranboo were plagued by nightmares very often for the first few weeks and woke up in tears in the middle of the night.

As old as Phil was, he had absolutely no problems comforting either of you in the middle of the night, same with Ranboo.

"Here mates..." He whispered softly as he handed you a hot beverage and gave Ranboo a grass block, "You're safe here... I promise. I would have to allow either of them into the server, and that would never happen... Especially now that I know what kind of people my sons are..."

You sighed and put your hand on Ranboo's back as he sobbed into your shoulder, using the fabric of his shirt to dry his tears before they burned his skin, "I know... I know... There's just the overwhelming fear that suddenly I'll wake up and I'll be back in the SMP and-and..." You decided not to finish your sentence, nuzzling into Ranboo's hair to try and keep yourself calm.

"Last I checked... Techno scared them off from the Tundra... But I haven't been in Snowchester or near the Embassy enough to know what Tubbo and Tommy are doing. But Ghostbur said that Tubbo has gone absolutely nuts... And Sam had to steal the nukes so Tubbo wouldn't destroy anything else... He also said Tommy on the other hand hasn't done anything except visit Dream in prison constantly."

Ranboo gave a shaky sigh and glanced over at Michael, most likely extremely happy that he brought his child along so he didn't have to deal with a psychotic Tubbo... Hell, he didn't know what would've happened to his kid if he did leave him. The thought caused him to give a small sob and hide his face again, holding onto you tighter and practically pulling your smaller form into his lap, trying to silently promise you safety and using you to remind him that he wasn't alone.

"We... we can't thank you enough, Phil... Really... You taught us so many life skills, kept us safe and promised us a safe haven... Allowed us to your private server..." You whispered, before feeling the warm cup being taken from your hand before a hand replaced it.

"Honestly... It's the least I can do to protect you both... You two have become two children to me, and, while I haven't been able to raise you from children like Techno, Wil and Tommy..." He didn't continue his sentence, struggling to form sentences, but both you and Ranboo understood and were quick to yank him into your little cuddle pile/hug, the two of you eagerly hugging him.

"Thank you... Dadza..."

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wordsfromthesol · 3 years

Text

Hunted

Author: @wordsfromthesol Taglist: togasbetch malfoys-demigod pricetagofficial Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Summary: You're a detective at Bludhaven PD with Dick Grayson and when a serial killer your after starts hunting you down, you have no choice but to ask for his help. Warnings: Kidnapping, stalking Word Count: 2.3k

You had been working at Bludhaven PD for about 2 years before the hotshot Dick Grayson came on the scene. Though you had grown into friends or at least friendly coworkers…he annoyed the shit out of you. After all, everything seemed to come so easy to the pretty boy Grayson and you could count the number of times you had actually seen him at the station on one hand. Thankfully this happened to be one of those times because you had run out of options.

"Dick, can I get your eyes on this case? I'm been staring at these files for hours and can't find the pattern. Yeah, they've obviously got a type. But that's not enough to go on."

Dick briefly runs through the file before staring blankly up at you. "You can't be serious, right? You need to take yourself off this case."

"People are dying, Dick." You had already assumed you would get some pushback from the star detective.

"I can't let you go after this guy. You're an exact match to all 5 people they've killed." Dick attempted to reason with you, to no avail.

"Then I'm the exact person who should go after this guy. Rather it be me than some civilian." Finally, Dick relented and gave you some useful information.

"Well…everyone was taken near an abandoned subway line." He takes out a highlighter and marks up the map. You tried to mask your nervousness as the bright yellow line stopped a block from your apartment.

"Thanks…I didn't even notice that." He nodded, still apprehensive about giving you the information, as he handed the file back to you. Tucking the papers away, you decided to finish up the research at home.

As you sauntered home, you were barely able to keep your eyes open. Stopping at the crosswalk, you noticed a man staring at you in your peripheral vision. You swore he was the same man from five blocks ago. Surely you were just paranoid…right? You began weaving in and out of the crowd, making a complete circle back to the crosswalk. Yet there he was in the corner of your eye. This wasn't paranoia. This was real. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and pressed Dick's contact card.

"Hey, uhm…remember that case we were talking about today?"

"You mean literally 20 minutes ago? Yeah, I remember."

A nervous chuckle escaped your lips, "Well you were probably right." Dick could hear the shakiness in your voice.

"He's following you, isn't he?"

Your current situation momentarily left your mind as the words tumbled out of your mouth, bypassing the brain. "How the fuck could you possibly know that?!"

"Don't go home. I'm coming to get you." You wanted to plead with him to stay on the line, but your stubbornness got the best of you. Slowing your pace, you attempted to stay in the crowd and walked straight. How was Dick even going to find you? As soon as the thought danced across your mind, there he was, as if you summoned him from thin air.

"Y/N!" The familiar voice called out from the street. A deep sigh of relief flooded over you as you trotted over to him. Crawling on the back of the motorcycle, you didn't bother asking where he was taking you. Anywhere was better than here.

"Wow. Just wow." Dick shook his head in awe as he climbed off the bike, ushering you into the apartment building.

"It's not like I planned it." You tried to force the uneasiness from your voice.

"Right, of course not. You realize he had to have been following you for days now, right? He knows where you live. You can't go back there." You hadn't really thought about that, yet where were you supposed to go? You looked at him pensively, unable to form a proper sentence. "Looks like you're staying here then." The alacrity of the statement caught you off guard.

"I can't just --"

"Right right. So let's go antagonize the serial killer. Genius." The sheer amount of sarcasm took you aback, this was a completely different side of the infamous Dick Grayson than you were used to.

You glared at him as he opened the door to his apartment. "So dramatic…besides, someone has to stop him. He's already after me, so I'm the perfect bait."

Dick's eyes went wide. He looked at you like you had three heads before bellowing, "ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!"

"Do you have a better plan?" Part of you hoped he would begin rattling off some convoluted trap. One that didn't hold your life in the balance.

"Well…not yet. But I'm sure we can think of something. Give me a few days."

A few days came and went and you were losing your mind in Dick's apartment. The worst part was, you were never alone. Dick or one of his family members was always by your side. You weren't quite sure how some 14-year-old kid was supposed to do anything if said serial killer showed up, but Dick was insistent.

Finally, you caught a break. Jason, your latest babysitter got called away on some emergency and Dick wouldn’t be home for another hour. Of course, Jason informed you to tell Dick he left just moments ago, which actually worked in your favor. You dialed Captain Holt on your phone and began to strategize. The captain wasn't keen on using you for bait either, but eventually, you swayed him. Everything was planned to take place tomorrow afternoon, a time Dick just so happened to be testifying in court.

"Y/N?" The confusion spread across Dick's face as he opened the door.

"I'm here!" You called out from the bedroom before stepping into sight.

"Where's Jason?"

"Oh, family emergency. But he left like two minutes ago. Nothing to worry about."

"Okay…" Dick didn't sound convinced.

"I also got a call from the captain today. He wants to meet with me tomorrow at 2." You tried to play it off as a casual request, but you knew it wouldn't be that simple.

"What? Why? We still haven't caught the psychopath…plus I have court tomorrow."

"Dick, I'll be in a police station. You can drop me off on your way."

Dick let out an exasperated sigh, "Fine. But I don't like it."

You were absolutely terrified, but you tried your best not to let it show through. After all, you asked for this. Dick still seemed uneasy, even as he dropped you off at the precinct. You wondered if he could tell something was wrong. Though there wasn't much he could do at this point, considering he was due in court by noon.

"Y/N. Are you sure about this?" Captain Holt questioned as you walked into his office.

"No. But something needs to be done. This guy doesn't just give up. So either I'm bait and we have a chance at catching him, or I die a horrific death for no reason. Not the best of options."

Holt nodded in understanding, "Well everything is set up. We have snipers in position around the perimeter of your apartment and a dozen plain-clothed in the vicinity."

"So hopefully we have a chance. What about near the abandoned subway entrance? That's how Dick thinks he's staying out of sight."

"Covered. We are ready to go on your command. Though I still think Detective Grayson should be informed of the plan."

"He's in court. So he couldn't help out anyways. The fewer people that know, the better. Let's move."

You arrived at your apartment without any issues, though you could feel a million pairs of eyes on you. With everyone watching you, it would be hard to notice one more face. Nevertheless, you persisted, attempting to go about your day in your apartment. The apartment that now seemed so foreign to you, though you had only been unexpectedly ripped from it a week ago.

As the day went on you began to feel more and more lightheaded. Normally, you would chalk it up to stress, but given the situation, you decided otherwise.

"Captain…"

"There is still no sign of him," he ignored the strain in your voice.

"I think…he's already…here." A crashing sound was left ringing through the earpiece.

"I want everyone on her position now! Get me a visual!" Captain Holt's booming voice commanded those around him. "Where are my snipers?!" An eerie silence crept over the line. "Shit." He mumbled before pulling out his phone. The dial tone appeared to mock him until finally the other end picked up.

"What happened?" The stringent words reverberated in the air.

"He has her."

"Goddammit. How did he get her out of the precinct?" Dick didn't wait for an answer. "Because she wasn't in the precinct. How could you let her be bait? You've seen what this guy does!" The anger was bubbling up inside him. Out of everyone, why you. Why did he have to go after you?

"I know."

"How long? HOW LONG HAS HE HAD HER?!" Two cops turned towards Captain Holt as Dick's voice echoed from the speaker.

"About a minute. From her apartment." As soon as the word left his lips, the line went dead. Holt buried his head in his hands. If there was any hope of finding her, it was Dick Grayson.

You woke up in a cold, dark, concrete room. "Well, guess that didn't work out as planned…" You mumbled to yourself, or so you thought.

"Really? You thought a bunch of cops in blue jeans could stop me? I've been hunting you for months. Along with the others. But you. You were my challenge. I memorized everything about you. Your favorite breakfast, your confidants, what time you call your family. Lovely little folks, by the way. And then you thought you could hideaway in that pathetic little Richard Grayson's apartment. The only reason I didn't take you then is because I didn't want to. What kind of challenge would that be? That would have diminished everything!" He carefully stepped around your chair, weaving your hair in and out of his fingers, until he turned to face you. "But now, here you are! My masterpiece! My coup d'etat!" His lips forced their way to yours. "Don't worry, my sweet. I'll take my time with you. After all, the grand finale demands perfection!" The crazed man turned on his heel and sauntered out of the room, leaving you with your own horrific thoughts.

It felt like hours had gone by before he returned. When he walked in, his eyes went immediately to your wrists and fingernails, which were now bloodied beyond recognition. "Now I wish you hadn't done that. Blood does not make for a spectacular fossilization." He walked around and surveyed the damage. "I guess it was to be expected though. After all, it wouldn't be fun without the challenge."

"You know, you keep saying that this is some big challenge, yet you gassed me and then tied me up. That doesn't seem like you are really challenging yourself."

"Simple-minded fool! Challenges are not always those of brute force. It took planning and timing to get you here. Those 4 snipers set up on the surrounding roofs? Had to get them out of the way. A delay in your communication device? Truly a necessity. And though you had the foresight to add a few men to the abandoned subway tunnel, they neglected to surveil the associated maintenance hatches. So you see, your perfect encapsulation proves to be quite the…" You noticed a slight furrow of his brow as the sentence broke. "Challenge. Now to finish preparing the resin!" Off he galloped, but you swore something was off. A slight change in his mood.

You heard several loud bangs before your captor fell backward through the door. Nightwing loomed over his grisly body. Then his eyes shot up towards you.

"I'm okay." The words were forced from your throat. With those two small words, Nightwing glared down towards the man and began throwing punch after punch. "STOP! Please!" You screamed out the words, shocked at the vigilante's ferocity. Nightwing's eyes slowly shifted towards you. It was as if a twinge of pain ran its way through his body as he crept towards you. Once close enough, his hands carefully cradled your face until finally, he spoke.

"I don't know what I would have done without you. Why did you do something so stupid?" You could tell he wanted to say the words out of anger, yet a euphoric aura surrounded them instead.

Still confused, you began to answer as he unbound your wrists and ankles. "He wasn't going to give up. This was our chance to catch him…"

"I would've found another way!" The words burst out of him louder than expected. Nightwing let out a sigh as he helped you out of the chair.

"Alright, Dick, I'm sorry." You glanced at him for a reaction...nothing. Worried he didn't hear you, you pushed the point further. "Guess I should be glad you weren't in court long."

Dick stopped in his tracks, finally realizing his mistake. "I…uh…left early." As the two of you got outside, there were a dozen cop cars already swarming the area. Two of the officers came up to meet you.

"Detective! Are you alright? What happened?!" The first began to raddle off questions, but Dick quickly deflected.

"You can find out later. I'm taking her to the hospital. Your man is inside, unconscious."

"I can still talk ya'know…" You mumbled as the officer ran off to inform the others of the new information.

"Yeah, but then you'd try to convince me not to take you to the hospital. And that's not going to happen. But don't worry, the captain is on his way there now. You'll get to regale the entire course of events with him."

It was almost scary how well he knew you. "You'll stay too?" The simple question caused an oversize grin to spread across his face, but all he did was simply nod.

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soyouthinkucanwrite · 3 years

Text

July 2nd - Daniel Ricciardo

Based on New Year's Day by Taylor Swift and this request by @spikejonzed

Fluffly, mentions of sex, banter, nothing graphic.

BTW, I don't know how I've never paid attention to this song, it's so so beautiful and honest. I've thought about this concept before though: the "Sunday afternoon effect", when all the excitement of the weekend wears off and you're just hanging out with your friends, laughing about silly stuff, or cleaning up the house after the party. The thing is, the friends that stay till then are the ones you wanna hold on to, and the same goes for lovers. I feel kind of bad... well not BAD but you know, must be hard... when you're famous and rich, to recognize the good ones from the beginning before you give yourself too much away and it's too late.

To be honest with you guys, I think Daniel must feel a bit lonely sometimes. We all do, but to think that people are only interested in you for your fame and money must be tough... something you worked so hard, that you keep dedicating your life to, to think that that thing is the reason for your heartbreak, to your loneliness... It's a two-edged sword, isn't it? Anyway, I wrote this little something with Daniel in mind, hope you guys like it. Hope he finds someone to be like this someday. Hell, hope I find someone to be like this someday. I think everyone deserves that.

Daniel woke up in his bed, no shoes, but jeans and party shirt still on. The light coming through the windows, shining directly on his face, threatening to make his headache even worse. He let out a groan and turned to the side. There's someone on his bed with him. Shit. He just remembered. Last night was the first time he was introducing (y/n) to his friends. His birthday "small get together" (or at least that's what it was supposed to be) was the perfect opportunity for testing the waters and giving the "next step" without making too much fuss about it, after all, they've only been going out for a couple months and with his tight schedule it meant a lot of facetime calls and weekends, but almost no weekdays and routine stuff.

Yet, he was absolutely smitten with her, she was fun and easygoing, passionate about her own work and friends, but still caring and interested in him. They had amazing chemistry, mind-blowing even. But Daniel had lived enough to know that hanging out with someone on the weekends and knowing their best side was one thing, living through daily and mundane stuff was a completely different thing. Where this could go was still a mystery to him and he didn't want to raise too many expectations before he was sure. Still, she looked so beautiful sleeping, a true vision. He tried to remember if something had happened last night, but judging by his clothes still on, and hers as well, he guessed not. As if on cue, she smiled, with her eyes still closed.

"Stop being creepy" she said smiling. "I can feel you watching me sleep"

"You're not even asleep anymore" he smiled and she opened her eyes. He was taken back by her eyes staring directly into his.

"Still creepy though" she laughed, getting closer to him. He held her and they stayed like that for a while.

"Are you ok?" he asked her.

"What do you mean?

"Aren't you hungover, or sick?" he asked again and she laughed.

"Not at all. I have this really weird superpower, you know, I don't get hungover. Ever, actually" she laughed.

"I don't believe you. I have the headache"

"No, it's true. We did drink a lot yesterday, though" she commented.

"Yeah, well, welcome to having Australian friends. No such thing as light drinking with those guys" he laughed but grimaced at the pain in his brain.

"I'll get you something"

"Huh?"

"For the pain" she explained getting up from the bed.

After a while she returned with a pill and a glass of water, passing them to him.

"Thank you, baby" he took the glass, finishing it. "Come back to bed now"

"Your house... like, I'm not even sure if I should tell you to take a look or just pack your essentials and abandon it" she smiled.

"Uhh" he groaned. "I'll call someone later"

"Like a constructor with a wrecking ball?" she laughed.

"It can't be that bad"

"It's bad" she started. "But we can manage it" He looked at her intrigued. "After a shower" she pulled his hand. "Join me?"

"If I ever say no to that question, just put me in an asylum" he said. "I need a kiss though, as motivation" he smirked.

"Noo... I have morning breath"

"What? Me too" he said pulling her down and kissing her anyway. "Uh, no. You're right. Yours is worst" he said laughing while getting up and walking into the bathroom.

"Asshole!" she laughed following him.

They stripped and got into the shower, taking turns in letting the water run through their bodies.

"Come here" Daniel said, putting some body wash in his hands and spreading them over (y/n) body.

"Hum... this feels nice" she said.

"You're so beautiful" he said kissing her shoulder.

"You're so wasted" she laughed lightly.

"Hey! I'm sober. I'm just too tired. Give me a couple hours to recover, and I'll claim my birthday privileges"

"Birthday privileges? It's not even your birthday anymore" she laughed.

"Okay, but first, it's the weekend of, and second, I didn't get any time alone with you yesterday"

"Fair. And what will be your requests, may I ask?" she asked teasingly.

"Humm... you're so creative" he said kissing her. "I'm sure we'll think of something"

They finished the shower after a while, enjoying each other's company and the comfortable silence.

"Did anyone crashed here?" (y/n) asked when they were stepping out of the shower.

"I have no idea" Daniel answered. "I just remembered going to take a nap and waking up this morning. Shit, we didn't... did we?" (y/n) laughed out loud at that.

"Wow! Really, Dan?"

"We did not. I would've remembered"

"Good save. Such a gentleman" she laughed.

"I drank way too much. Sorry. Don't be mad"

"It's fine. I'm messing with you, I don't remember anything either. To be honest, I don't even remember joining you on your 'nap'" she said making air quotes.

"We're the worst hosts" he said getting out of the bathroom and going into the closet to get some clothes.

(y/n)'s heart swelled at the thought of hosting a party with Daniel. There was something so intimate about that statement, so homey.

"You want a shirt?" Daniel asked from the other room, waking her up from her daydream.

"Yeah, sure" she took the shirt, some underwear, and some sweats. Then brushed her wet hair and looked in the mirror. Not a trace of makeup left. She sighed thinking about how falling into a routine with Daniel meant letting the barriers down.

"Alright, snap out of it" she said to herself, getting out of the bathroom and walking outside, to the living room where Daniel was standing rubbing his neck and looking around.

"This is bad" he said when he saw her joining him. There were empty beer bottles and cups all around the living room and balcony, pizza boxes (with half-eaten slices left behind) in the coffee table, party decorations hanging from the ceiling, and the kitchen was even worse, with liquid spilled on the ground and bottles everywhere. There was glitter all over the floor and the couch - someone had brought some of those party poppers, which looked so much fun yesterday, but no so much now. But the best part was the polaroids, left all over the house with the craziest poses.

"Pack your stuff, we're deserting this goddam hellhole" he said and she knew he was joking, he said that about everywhere, but she still shook her head and rolled her eyes, picking a polaroid photo from the ground.

"Everyone had so much fun" she showed it to him. "I loved meeting your friends"

He took the photo from her hand, it was one where (y/n) was sitting on the couch with two of his buddies from Australia, making funny faces while holding cups. He remembered the moment because he was the one who took the photo.

"How's the headache?" she asked him.

"Almost gone"

"Good. So you don't have an excuse. Move your ass, where are the trash bags?" she laughed going into the kitchen.

"Hey! That was very sneak of you" he laughed but followed her anyway.

They spent the next hour collecting bottles, vacuuming glitter, and just cleaning the whole house. Daniel complained the whole time, but in truth, he was very glad to have her there. Sure, he could just ignore the whole mess and hire someone on Monday to clean everything (he probably would still do that anyway, for the heavy cleaning like bathrooms), but it was really nice of her to just stick around, seeming unbothered by the housework. When she finished tying the last trash bag and putting it on the entry hallway she flopped on the couch besides Daniel, who had called it a day some good 10 minutes ago.

"Done?" he asked her.

"I feel like punching you for asking me that" she answered playing annoyed. He lifted his hand in defense.

"What? I did my part!"

"Men" she shook her head. "I'm surprised you haven't complained about being hungry yet"

"Well, I'm starving! Was just waiting to suggest going out, or ordering in"

"Ordering in, please. I don't want to get off this couch any time soon"

Daniel got his phone out to order some food. It was almost noon, so he thought about something like pasta, some carbs would be nice right now. Then he felt (y/n)'s head drop on his shoulder, her hand caressing his arm. It was such a sweet gesture, so understated, he just stopped what he was doing and looked at her.

"What?" she looked at him.

"I'm really glad you're here. Thank you"

"It's nothing" she smiled.

"I don't mean the cleaning. Well, that too. But just, thank you for being you and wanting to hang out with me, you know, after the party"

"I'll always wanna hang out with you, partying or cleaning bottles" she said and leaned in to kiss him. "Happy birthday old man" this made him smile through the kiss.

"Thank you, young lady" he said still smiling. "Let's feed you now, yeah?"

"Please! Let's get some carbs on this house!" she smile.

"Hey, guys!" (y/n) and Daniel looked up to see Luke, one of Daniel's buddies walking out of the guest bedroom.

"Dude! I didn't know you were here" Daniel laughed.

"Yeah, just woke up. Definitely wasn't hiding in the bedroom waiting for the cleaning end to get out" he grinned making (y/n) and Daniel laugh.

"You know what? Just for that, you're going downstairs to pick up the food when it gets here, and taking out the trash!" (y/n) teased him, tossing a pillow from the couch at him.

Daniel just observed while his friend and his girlfriend joked and laughed. He thought about how right now he was enjoying a feeling of contempt that wasn't really natural or much appreciated by professional athletes, but this time felt right to indulge in it. He felt safe like someone's got him, finally. He took (y/n) hand on his and squeezed it three times, he knew this was already a good thing, something to last. She looked at him, she knew exactly what he meant.

#Daniel Ricciardo #Daniel Ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #daniel ricciardo oneshot

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hqamore · 3 years

Text

boreal star ✵ chapter six

now, he’s pissed off. general kirigan was going to get his sun summoner and blast all of ravka to hell. he was so close to reaching his goals and no one was going to stop him.

chapter genre: action

series pairing: [past?] aleksander morozova (general kirigan) x reader

word count: 2.2k

author’s babble: surprise! so soon? i know. i cranked this chapter because i finally decided how this series would end. enjoy and tell me your thoughts!

here’s the masterlist

three days, you and mal agreed on. you procrastinated for the first two. well, not really procrastinated. you purchased some food and extra layers in balakirev the first day. the second day, you made your way to ryevost. to your misfortune, you were almost caught by aleksander and his merry band of misfits. but, his attention was stolen by teenagers? it was certainly entertaining to see the grisha get outwitted by the bunch.

you waited until you couldn’t detect them anymore. swiftly and careful to hide your face, you made your way to tsibeya on the third day. by high noon, the white forest greeted you with light snowfall. about 5km in, two huddled teens came into view. the crisp sounds of your steps alerted them, their eyes darting to you.

“[y/n]?” alina stepped in front of mal in a defensive position, light drawn at the ready. you surrendered your hands as mal lightly pushed away hers.

“alina, i told you they were coming,” he said.

with some reluctance, the sun summoner lowered her hands and eyed her. “why would baghra send you? you arrived at the palace the same time as i did.”

you smiled, ignoring her question, and strode past them, only pausing for them to follow. mal slung his sack over his shoulder and gave alina’s hand a light squeeze before jogging ahead of you. “i’ll look out for the stag. but, it’d be better for all of us if you answered her questions,” he whispered. “she’s naturally curious and very stubborn.”

you sighed and slowed your pace, matching your strides with alina’s. “baghra and i have a mutual understanding, one that precedes the importance of the second army,” you said.

alina glanced at you warily. “which is?”

“the black heretic cannot gain any more power.”

her lips pursed. “but, you arrived at the same time i did,” she quipped, “and i still can’t do much.”

you offered a dry chuckle. “i guess i picked it up that much faster.”

silence fell between you two, the crunching snow and distance chirps of birds filling the air. you took this opportunity to take in alina’s appearance. she wore ill-fitted clothing that couldn’t have been providing any warmth. her profile was worn, sunken eyes accompanied by an angry blush from the cool temperature. you shrugged your coat off, leaving you in your kefta, and draped it over her shoulders. she looked at you in surprise which made you smile softly.

with this small bridge, you spoke. “it must’ve been difficult escaping the palace without help.”

alina sheepishly smiled as she tugged the coat on, shuddering in the extra warmth. “not really. i just snuck into the trunk of a carriage and waited until it stopped.”

“you snuck into a stranger’s carriage?” you raised in an eyebrow, mirth evident in your eyes.

“not my best idea, but i’m safe now!”

you laughed at her embarrassed look, causing mal to look back. you saw as his lips quirked when his eyes met alina’s blushing face. warmth spread in your heart as you witnessed his loving gaze, almost feeling as if you were intruding on a secret conversation. you peered at alina who just returned mal’s stare with a blinding smile native only to one alina starkov. you envied their relationship, wordlessly intimate and completely trusting. sadness stirred at the bottom of your heart, memories of hushed giggles and longing gazes bubbling.

all lies, it was.

—

the sun was setting and, luckily, the three of you had already arrived where mal had last seen the stag. mal said he doubted that the stag moved on, leaving you guys to wait around.

brushing some snow off of a log, you sat and hugged your knees closer to conserve some warmth. alina and mal joined you, leaning into each other to share their body heat.

“when we find the stag, i need to be the one to kill it,” alina grimly stated.

mal looked down at her. “you’re a terrible shot. they made you a cartographer for a reason.”

you snickered as alina feigned offense and mal grinned unapologetically. “besides, i thought we weren’t killing it,” the tracker said, glancing at you. alina’s forehead scrunched in confusion when she turned to you.

a puff of fog appeared as you let out a sigh. “we’re not. unless absolutely necessary.”

“if we don’t, kiri—”

“i have a plan, alina,” you interrupted. “all we need to do is guide the stag away. with a combination of your abilities and mine, it’ll be fairly easy.”

“that won’t stop him from finding it,” alina protested.

you gently placed a hand on alina’s head. “that’s why, once we get it out of fjerdan territory, i’m taking it to the wandering isle. the distance will prevent aleksander from coming for it personally and give me more time to work out a permanent solution.”

she stayed silent for a moment, mulling over your plan, before she frowned. “aleksander.”

your head tilted questioningly when her body faced you, a serious look on her face. “how do you know his name?” she asked.

sucking in a deep breath, you realized you had relaxed too soon. her sharp eyes trained on you as you rubbed your face. mal remained confused, leaning forward to observe the two of you.

“it’s difficult not to know the name of your warden,” you replied.

“warden?”

you debated whether or not to tell alina the complete truth, but you threw caution into the wind and exhaled. “my arrival at the palace was not the first time i had been there. some time ago, i actually called that place home. but, one day, i woke up from the false reality and escaped from the place that was, retrospectively, my prison.”

too intelligent, alina connected the dots in record time. “you’re the lover the servants talked about,” she said breathily. “the person baghra thought would change him.”

a bitter smile danced on your lips. “i’m not sure if he loved me as i did him, but i would’ve hung the stars if he asked me to.”

alina clasped your hand in hers, offering a weak smile. you returned it before continuing. “i met him about four-hundred years ago, when he was hiding from the crown. i was young and enchanted. i believed in everything he wanted for grisha and became his willing accomplice.

“when he returned to the palace, i followed. when he locked me in my room, i complied. as naive as i was, i was in love,” you paused to glance at the pair in front of you, reminded of their small moments that paralleled your memories.

“i was in love...” you trailed, staring at your lap as your chest panged dully. you shook yourself out of your daze and cleared your throat. “no matter, i saw him for the crazed tyrant he was and, when i found out you had been discovered, i returned to thwart his plans.”

faint rustling drew mal’s attention away, the tracker slowly stepping towards the source. alina’s eyes followed him as did yours. after a few seconds, he turned. “that way.”

like meerkats, you and alina shot up and crept beside mal. his eyes darted around the clearing you were approaching and, there in all its glory, was the stag. the three of you stopped at a safe distance when it turned to look in your direction.

you started laying out the plan. “okay. alina, you need to—”

“wait,” alina said, stepping forward, with her eyes trained on the stag. “i— i’ve been seeing it in these visions ever since i arrived at the palace. i don’t know why, but i think it’s been trying to reach out to me.”

then, the stag walked towards alina who took several more steps. she gingerly reached her hand out and the stag met her with its snout. light erupted from them and alina let out soft laughs, basking in the warmth of the light. you softly gasped at the sight. it chose—

suddenly, an arrow shot the stag, causing it to lurch away from alina in pain. she tumbled backwards as people rushed in from all sides. mal raised his gun and shot at the bowman, knocking him down. he swiftly notched an arrow in his bow, prepared to shoot the stag, when a strong wind forced it out of his hand. you turned and was faced with a familiar-looking squaller. you loosened gravity’s hold on her and forced her to float. when you were about to fling her away, a grunt sounded behind you.

“mal!”

your focus disappeared; you pivoted to see mal embedded with an arrow, effectively dropping zoya and incapacitating her. you went to help him when an intense pressure hit your chest, your heart beating erratically. it forced you onto your knees next to mal. your heart was pounding in your ear before it stopped.

bright flashes threw off the heartrender and bowman. you greedily breathed in air as alina darted to mal. you could hear the snap of the arrow followed by mal’s agonizing scream. glancing up, your vision slightly blurred, you saw shadows gathering behind you. at the sound of a billowing cloak, you rushed to create a gravitational downforce around you, not allowing anyone to move. you slowly stood up, facing aleksander with a glare.

he let out a haughty laugh. “i should’ve known you would be with her.”

“alina, i need you to get to the stag,” you commanded.

“but, mal! he’s— he’s dying!”

you glanced behind you to see her applying pressure on his wounds. thoughts raced in your mind before settling on one solution. “i promise you he won’t so long as you follow my instructions.”

desperation evident in her eyes, alina could only nod.

“get to the stag and shield us on my count.”

you inhaled deeply. “3, 2, 1!”

alina ran for the stag and created a barrier. you dove under it before it separated you from the others. outside of it, aleksander found himself free to move. creeping closer, he called out. “you can’t save them, alina. you may have the power of light but not the power to heal.”

alina’s resolve wavered as her eyes flicker to mal. “don’t listen to him, alina! i promised you, didn’t i?” you reassured.

alina bit her lip as she kept up the barrier. you made mal float and pulled him closer to the stag. you gently set him down and reached for the stag. it groaned and flailed in protest.

“i know i’m not your chosen, but please. i must heal him and then i can heal you,” you whispered.

the stag quieted and allowed you to touch it. with one hand on the stag, you hovered the other near mal’s wound.

“i’m sorry, mal, but this is gonna hurt like hell.”

you manipulated time on his body. blood slowly returned to the wound whilst the arrow pieced itself together, ripping itself out of him afterwards. mal let out a painful howl before the wound stitches itself back together, like no arrow had been there in the first place. as he recovered, you quickly moved around to the other side of the stag.

“i see you’ve been busy,” aleksander said sharply.

rage gathered in the pit of your stomach when you shot a glare at aleksander. “and you’ve been a complete fool. after all this time, you still can’t get it through your thick skull that morozova’s amplifiers have to choose you,” you spat.

you returned your attention to the stag’s wound. you murmured an apology before you worked on it. it whined through the pain but stilled once you finished. your hands trembled as you shakily pushed yourself off the ground. the stag stirred and stood on its legs, causing alina to follow in suit. you ran your hand through its fur and whispered. “just once more, friend.”

as if it reads your mind, it knelt before alina. you looked at her, mal now standing beside her.

“you two, get on.”

alina gave you a bewildered look. you returned it with a pleading one. without protest, she and mal both mounted the stag. then, it rose, looking towards you. you leaned your forehead against its snout. “take them far from here.”

you stepped to the side and took alina’s hand. “now, i only have so much energy left to keep them here. so, ride fast.”

“what? you’re not coming with us?” alina’s jaw dropped.

you offered her a melancholic smile. “please, if i have to witness anymore of your loving gazes, i’ll become a bitter spinster,” you teased before growing serious. “alina, keep the shield up until you’ve left fjerdan territory. only make it as big as it has to be. mal, you’re going to have to make sure she doesn’t fall off.”

you let go of her hand and gave mal a nod. inching away from them, you approached the center of the field, barely covered by alina’s light. you glanced back and jerked your head, signaling them to leave. you immobilized aleksander and his men once more, allowing alina and mal to slip through and disappear into the winter night. despite your raging headache, you kept your focus until you couldn’t see the light. you collapsed, the snow cushioning your fall. your vision blurred as you heard footsteps approach you.

“we’ll find them eventually.”

you squinted at your former lover. “no, i don’t think you will, aleks.”

aleksander crouched down and whispered in your ear. “i should kill you where you lay.”

“be my guest. you are well within your rights, general kirigan,” you taunted.

he sneered. “out of respect for our past, i won’t. but, you will be my prisoner.”

“what’s new?” you asked before promptly passing out.

taglist (couldn’t tag the ones in bold): @kykymyeon @shelivesindaydreamswme @blackbirddaredevil23 @amortentiaaaa @safetyhtom @savannah-elliott @deceivedeer @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @sarcastic-and-cool @supersouthy @let-love-bleeds-red @andwhatofthelight @all-art-is-quite-useless @mixed-imagination @ashdab2611 @aria-grace-scott @multifandom-addict @aleksanderwh0r3 @p3nny4urth0ught5 @kirigansgf @evyiione @theoutsidelandhere @wizardwheezes @partiesandblurrypolaroids @pansysgirlfriend @takethee @imrann123456 @rachellovesharry

author’s babble pt.2: ohoho! can you believe they did that? now, you may be wondering why [y/n] is able to manipulate time. it has to do with spacetime being 4 dimensional and the complexity that comes with the concept of gravity. a bit wibbly wobbly timey wimey (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

continue to chapter seven? yes

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #grishaverse fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan imagine #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #aleksander morozova x reader #boreal star

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bitterlavenderwritings · 4 years

Text

pretty little kitty

a/n: i actually already have a birthday special for kenma coming up but whooop i have another thirst post oneshot that i just thought of and im not done with it yet so-

summary: kenma would absolutely love cosplay sex. no, its not the both of you dressing up, its just you. you could cosplay a bunch of his favorite video game characters and he’d be hella turned on within a second-

so what better gift would he love other than you dressing up as a maid and be his own personal assistant for the day?

pairing/s: kenma kozume x f!reader

wc: 1 575

tags: consensual somnophilia, cosplay sex, explicit nsfw content, pet play, soft dom kenma, dirty talk

-ꦼ———▸ crossposted on ao3

The uniform’s not too skimpy, just the right length. Skirt above the knees, white thigh high stockings complete with a garter belt underneath your uniform. Don the typical frilly headband and mary jane shoes and voila, you’re a maid!

Kenma would surely spend the whole day lazing around in his apartment, not bothering to go out and celebrate. Kuroo already knows this is how he actually wants to spend his birthday, then do a small celebration the next day. So he doesn’t bother kenma into going out and respects his wishes.

His birthday was reserved just for him and you.

Birthday gifts should have an element of surprise, so you wake up earlier than him (which isn’t really that hard, he sleeps ‘til noon) then quickly bathe and wear your uniform for the day.

Your first duty for the day: wake up your master.

Kenma sleeps like a fetus, legs folded and tucked in his chest. His blanket is wrapped around him until his chin, making it a bit difficult for you to unravel his body.

He’s in deep slumber as always, a result of an all nighter to finish a video game he just bought yesterday. He’s too worn out to do anything right now, so it’s up to you to do all the work today.

Carefully, you lift off the blanket covering his lower half, settling it on his waist. You gently untuck his legs, doing so very slowly as not to wake him. He sleeps like a log and would be less likely to be disturbed but you didn’t want to risk it.

You position yourself between his legs, nuzzling your face in his clothed crotch. He’s always fantasized waking up with you sucking him off, wearing cat ears as he pets your hair and calls you his little kitty. Speaking of which-

You reach over to your nightstand, taking out the fuzzy black cat ears and collar. The collar’s another extra to your gift, a commission you had to have his name in the charm.

Kozume Kenma’s Kitty

Swiftly, you put them on then went back to your previous position. You bring down the hem of his sweatpants along with his boxers, freeing his cock. Knowing just what to do, you give it wet kisses until you finally managed to get a reaction.

You wrap your hand around his shaft then pump it slowly. As soon as it hardens to its full length, you lick it from its base to its head. his brows furrow, still not awake from your teasing.

Giving his head a kiss, you take his length into your mouth, moaning as you deepen his cock further down your throat.

You suck him off slowly, wanting him to wake up with a gentle surprise. After a few minutes of sucking he finally peaks an eye open.

You smile as you give his cock a few kitty licks, earning you a breathless moan. “Good morning, master.”

It’s then your outfit clicks in his brain. Opening both of his eyes, he takes in your form between his legs. He stares at you, processing your uniform he hadn’t noticed before.

His dick twitches at the sight of you, crouching on all fours in your uniform. The black skirt coupled with a frilly white apron is spread out on his sheets, The neckline is low enough for him to see your breasts, his eyes surveying up to your neck. He eyes the collar on your neck, his hands reaches the charm attached, reading the carved message on the cold metal.

“What a pleasant surprise,” he smiles, rubbing his soft hands on both of your cheeks. You nuzzle your face in his palms obediently like a cat would do. “Is my little kitty gonna be good for me?”

You hummed pleasantly. “Mhm.”

“Good.” He pushes your head back to his cock softly, fingers threading in your hair. “Continue, pet.”

You follow his instructions immediately, you continue where you left off. Hollowing your cheeks, you take his length deeper than before. His right hand strokes your hair, guiding you down further. You gag as you try to deep throat his cock, but he shushes you as he raises his hips up.

“You’re doing so good for me kitty,” he praises, “don’t stop now.”

You’re eyes are filled with tears at this point but you hum in agreement. He hisses as you lick the underside of his cock as you bob your head up and down.

He’s a panting mess now, cheeks flushed as he grips your hair while you keep fucking him with your mouth. “Fuck, keep going. Yeah, just like that.”

You moan around his dick at his praises, he’s so close you could tell by the way his legs tremble and his grip tightening in your hair.

His groans send a wave of heat between your legs, you really wish you could touch your throbbing clit right now but you behave yourself for your master. Today is all about him.

“You want my milk?” He huffs, “you’re my good little kitty, aren’t you?” You moan at his words in response, urging him to continue his dirty talk.

“That’s right, kitties love milk don’t they? You want master’s milk, my pretty little kitty?”

He lets out a strangled noise as he cums, releasing his white fluids in your mouth as he buries his dick deep in your throat.

“Open your mouth.” He orders.

You obey his command, opening your lips just enough for him to see the mess he made.

“Keep that in there, okay? I’m gonna fuck you with my cum in your mouth, so you better not spill a single drop or else.” He enunciates his point a slapping your ass. You whimper in response.

“Now take care of your master, will you? Be a good girl, raise your pretty skirt and ride my cock.”

Obediently, you do as he says. Picking up your skirt, you move to straddle his waist. He curses at the sight of your white panties matched with the lace garter set. His hands find their way to your thighs, caressing your soft skin as he reaches your underwear. He palms your mound for a few moments, earning him a strangled moan. He sets aside your panties then rubs his dick repeatedly on your slit.

You’re having trouble keeping your mouth shut, grinding your throbbing clit on his cock as he presses it directly on your bundle of nerves.

He stops his actions, you whine at the loss of contact but jolt when you feel his head prodding at your entrance.

With the encouragement from his hands on your hips, you lower yourself down on his cock.

You moan at the sensation of his cock filling you up, his length rubbing against your walls has you clenching your cunt. He gasps as he feels you tighten on his dick, gripping your hips as he snaps his hips into yours.

You bite your lip in surprise, almost letting out a moan when you felt his tip brush against your cervix.

It’s a beautiful sight for him really, Your face is a flustered mess, gazing down on him with a feverish gaze. Your hands are still gripping the hem of your skirt, exposing your wet cunt filled by his cock with your legs quivering by his hips.

You grind your pussy on his hips once, feeling the pleasurable burn of his pubicle hair against your clit.

He watches his cock disappear into your hole as you ride him. The sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room, along with your moans withheld by your pressed lips. He eyes your breasts, bouncing as you set a pace fucking yourself on his cock.

He grips your hips then slam into you, making you stop in shock.

“Let me do this for you baby.” He says breathlessly.

Wordlessly, he continues to thrust into you with a newfound vigor. You can only hold yourself with the help of his hands guiding you up and down along with him. Wet noises echoes against the walls of his room. It’s a good thing the walls are thick, otherwise, the neighbors would have heard you by now.

You can feel yourself reaching your limit, dissolving into pleasure as he pounds into you. You can’t speak, so you opt with hurried whimpers to let him know you’re so close.

“You gonna cum for your master, kitty?” He pants as he thrusts his dick deeply, you clench him tightly in response, “do it. Cum for your master.”

As if on command, you cum all over his cock. Your vision fades to black, barely comprehending how much you’re gushing your juices on his dick.

He fastens his pace, rutting into you before he reaches his own release. He lets out a loud ‘FUCK’ before he stills inside you. Your body limps, landing on his chest as you feel the aftershock of your orgasm.

He kisses your head sweetly as he gazes down at you. “That was best present I’ve ever had, thank you baby.”

He’s confused at your lack of response then remembers.

“You can swallow now.” He says with a laugh. So you finally did.

With a sleepy smile, you kiss him on the lips.

He looks at you endearingly, feeling all the love he’s had for you. There really was no one better he could have than you, who always knew what he wanted and obliged.

“My pretty little kitty.”

#kenma x reader #kenma smut #haikyuu kenma #timeskip kenma #kozume kenma #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #kenma imagine #kenma x y/n #kenma x you #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu smut

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bbangsoonie · 4 years

Text

to my ex (best friend)

member: juyeon genre: fluff?? word count: 2,175 synopsis: thanks to kevin’s tiktok obsession, you end up sending out a google form to all of the people you used to call your best friends. one response brings back forgotten memories and feelings.

“I can’t believe I’m stuck with the Canada boys for another 4 years,” you jokingly groaned.

Today was officially move-in day and the beginning of your college life. After roughly unpacking in your dorm room, you went over to Jacob and Kevin’s room to hang out. Jacob had his guitar out and was playing random chords for you to hum along to. Kevin, on the other hand, was glued to his phone. TikTok had been his new obsession and he was constantly watching the endless feed of videos.

“Hey, we are the iconic trio,” Jacob insisted.

“Wow Eric is basically a TikTok star now,” Kevin commented as he showed you two the video that popped up on his For You page. “This kid is stuck on straight TikTok though.”

Jacob laughed, although he was unsure of what that exactly meant. Knowing this, you chuckled at his efforts to appease his roommate.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Kevin tugged at your arm in an urgent matter. “Can we also do that Google form trend?”

“Uhh which one?” you asked.

“The one where you send out a Google form to your ex-crushes or ex-friends,” he turned to Jacob to further explain. “So basically it’s a questionnaire either revealing your past feelings or confronting what happened between old friends.”

“I don’t know, man. Our high school years were pretty vanilla. We didn’t even have that many crushes,” you shrugged.

“Hmm I mean we did have that huge friend group freshman year. It’s a shame it kinda fell apart as time went by,” Jacob reminisced.

You were reminded of the people you once considered to be your best friends. It was you and twelve other boys, which should’ve hinted at the inevitable end. The beginning of the end started with Hyunjoon transferring to a different school. Then, as you all grew older and high school drama kicked in, you were the topic of many rumors. People didn’t understand—or like—that you were the only girl in an all male friend group. Girls called you all sorts of names and spread ridiculous lies about you that spread to neighboring schools.

No one in the group had any bad blood with each other. Life just pulled you in different directions and you simply grew apart. Some joined the dance team, which consumed most of their time. Some joined varsity teams and focused on getting a sports scholarship. Some became trainees and lost contact with everyone. Some, like you and the Canada boys, became busy with college applications. Everyone had their own reasons and there were no hard feelings.

“Wouldn’t it be fun to finally find out what they all think? Get closure before we start our journey as college students?” Kevin asked, eagerly.

“I guess,” you agreed.

“Alright! Then we’ll play rock paper scissors to choose who has to send them out,” Kevin declared.

Your unlucky streak, without fail, won you the embarrassment honor of writing and sending the form to all your former friends. You grumbled, displeased at the fact that you were now the scapegoat fulfilling Kevin’s curiosity. Nevertheless, you searched through your contact list to find everyone’s phone numbers and sent them the link, hoping that no one changed their number.

By the next day, you received responses from all 10 of them. The trio reconvened in Jacob and Kevin’s room to review the answers. The first few were essentially what you all expected. They explained how life became hectic and your paths just crossed less and less as your interests and goals changed.

When you came across Haknyeon’s comment, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You still owe me ice cream for lending you my pen during our final exam,” you read aloud. You recalled the day; you were freaking out about your misplaced pencil case and he had kindly offered his extra pen.

“What else would you expect from the foodie?” Kevin laughed.

By the time you got to Juyeon’s response, however, you froze. Curious as to what caught you so off guard, Jacob took the laptop from your lap and gasped. Kevin peeped over Jacob’s shoulder and his jaw dropped after reading it. He immediately looked at you, wondering how you were taking the information.

You were confused. He had been the object of your love and attention for a good three years in high school. Not wanting anyone to find out, you had swallowed those feelings and the Canada duo were the only ones to ever catch on. You and Juyeon used to be extremely close—even closer than you and Kevin or you and Jacob. He always quietly took care of you and the two of you shared everything with each other until one day he suddenly became distant. Without an explanation, he left your side and never returned. You just assumed he wanted to stop being friends. It hurt but you didn’t want to force a one-sided friendship so you stopped reaching out to him.

“What the heck?” you finally blurted.

Jacob slowly closed the laptop shut, eyeing Kevin who seemed way too giddy. He felt uneasy, not knowing if this was a good thing.

“So your first love was requited,” Kevin said smugly. “I told you so.”

“Okay you had absolutely no facts to back up your assumption back then,” you argued.

“What did I tell you? My gut is never wrong.”

“Yeah but he also just cut me off out of nowhere. How else was I supposed to interpret that?”

“Clearly not the way we did.”

Jacob smacked his hand over Kevin’s mouth to shut him up. He knew how much pain Juyeon’s name brought you. You didn’t show it but you still had a soft spot for him.

“It’s okay, Jacob. Whatever feelings I had for Juyeon—good and bad—are history. You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me,” you assured. “Besides, this doesn’t even mean anything. He wrote all of this in past tense. He’s just clarifying the reason why our friendship ended. Like Kevin said, I guess I finally got closure.”

“Closure? My brilliant idea has brought forth an opportunity for you to rekindle your love!” Kevin exclaimed excitedly.

“No. No way,” you shook your head. “The past is in the past. We are living very separate lives now.”

“Oh stop quoting Frozen and just try texting him,” he rolled his eyes. “Jacob and I never told you but he’s actually attending the same university as us.”

This prompted a very loud “What?” from you. Jacob buried his head in his hands, groaning. He was definitely going to get an earful.

“You’re bound to run into him eventually. So just take the initiative and face things head on,” Kevin advised. “Won’t that be less awkward than coincidentally meeting him after ignoring his response to the form you sent him?”

“And who’s the one who made me send it?” you glared, puffing your cheeks.

“You’re going to do it anyway so just hurry up and pretend you have no choice but to listen to me,” he snickered.

“Moon Hyungseo!”

At your use of his full Korean name, his eyes widened in fear and he jumped up to run away, barely avoiding your slap. Watching the scene in front of him, Jacob laughed. He had secretly hoped that you would reconnect with Juyeon as well. He knew how much you used to like him.

That night, you found yourself staring at Juyeon’s contact on your phone. Your heart raced at the thought of talking to him again. It had been years since you two last spoke and so many things had changed since then. You were no longer oblivious and clumsy teenagers. You knew each other’s past selves but didn’t know a thing about each other’s current selves. You were afraid that even if you became friends again, it would be too different. It was why you never harbored any hope for things to go back to “normal” with him. You couldn’t be disappointed if you never had any expectations to begin with.

Still, you took a leap of courage and sent a simple “hey” before you could chicken out. His reply was almost instant, which startled you.

You: hey

Juyeon: Hi Y/n

You: would it be weird if i asked to meet? i think we have a few things to talk about.. if that’s ok with you

Juyeon: Sure! How’s tomorrow at noon? We could talk over a meal at the school cafeteria

You: sounds good. see you then :)

You wanted to scream into your pillow. The awkwardness was driving you crazy but you were still looking forward to seeing him. He still had you wrapped around his finger and you hated it. But you still loved him.

The next day, your clothes were flung around all over your bed. You had rummaged through your entire closet to find an outfit you were satisfied with, resulting in you running a bit late.

Juyeon had arrived at the cafeteria early. He was so nervous that he couldn’t just stay still in his dorm. After all these years, he was finally confronting everything that he had concealed. He always felt guilty about the way he treated you and he was glad he could finally explain and apologize.

When he saw you approach him, he couldn’t stop himself from staring. It had only been a summer since he last saw you at graduation but your beauty still amazed him. He gulped, standing up to greet you when you reached the table.

The first few minutes were spent eating in awkward silence. Unable to bear it any longer, he cleared his throat to begin the conversation.

“Um so I guess my response to that form was a lot to unpack, huh?” he said sheepishly.

You almost choked on the food, surprised by his straightforwardness. He passed you your cup of water as you coughed.

“Yeah..” you mumbled.

“I want to start by saying I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I think I always had feelings for you. At first, it was subtle. I just liked spending time with you. I liked making you smile. I was content with just being friends. You know me, I’m the type to just watch my crush from afar. Then, as we got older, those feelings grew to be bigger than I could handle. I began to get greedy. And I felt that I could literally do anything for you. That’s when I realized how hard I fell for you and that scared me. I was afraid of ruining our friendship but I was also scared of my own feelings. So I started distancing myself from you. It’s a poor excuse but back then, I was a coward,” he confessed.

Juyeon had always been a very direct person. He never really beat around the bush and you liked that about him. That hadn’t changed about him but yet it still surprised you.

“If I could go back in time, I wish I could have done things differently. I knew I was hurting you but I thought that after all that’s happened, continuing to be friends with you would make you the center of gossip again. I didn’t want to make your life any harder,” he added.

“Juyeon, I cared about you a lot more than I did about those stupid rumors.”

“I know that now. But high schooler me was terrified of you finding out about my feelings.”

You contemplated on whether or not you should bring up your own past feelings. You wanted to reciprocate his honesty but were worried that it would be unnecessary. You took a deep breath and decided on the first option.

“You know, I was also terrified of having you find out about my feelings,” you admitted. Your words shocked him as he tried to figure out what you were implying.

“Wait, you.. You liked me too?” he gaped, making you blush.

“Let’s uh stop talking about that now,” you said as your cheeks reddened to a darker shade.

“While we’re opening up..” he looked at you with hesitance. “Is there any chance you still feel the same way now?”

His question caught you entirely off guard. You blankly stared at him, wondering if you heard him correctly.

“Juyeon, this is the first proper conversation we’ve had in years,” you deadpanned.

“That’s not an immediate no,” he lit up.

You wanted to laugh at his simplicity. His childlike innocence was still the same. It warmed your heart to see that he hadn’t changed as much as you were afraid he would. Yet, the fear in the back of your mind remained. You weren’t confident that you could even resume your friendship with him. At your silence, he tried to lighten the mood.

“So then would being friends again be okay with you?” he asked.

“I guess we could try,” you slowly nodded, bringing a bright smile to his face. You didn’t notice that your expression reflected his.

“Great,” he grinned happily.

And that was the beginning of a new story between you two.

bonus:

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pascalpanic · 4 years

Note

Ok I know cigarettes are like.. BAD ok. But I keep having this thot about riding javi on his stupid ass couch as he smokes a cigarette and you just take it from his lips and smoke as you quite literally ride him into the couch. He thinks it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

Hazy Vision (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: After a long weekend together, Javier has to go back to work. You really miss him.

W/C: 3.4k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, babes), lots of dirty talk and innuendos, references to a lot of sex outside of what happens in the plot, creampie, language, mild overstimulation. LOTS of talk of cigarettes and smoking. brief mentions of food and alcohol. afab reader.

A/N: you broke my soul, anon. and for that I love you. p.s. HAPPY BIRTHDAY @theteddylupinexperience!!! hope u have an awesome day and that this is a sufficient gift lol

It’s hot as hell in Colombia, and your air conditioner broke.

Javier is gracious, of course. He’s your boyfriend. He cares for you. He’d do anything for you, even with nothing in it for him. It’s a bonus to him that you’ll get to spend the foreseeable future at his place, since every repairman in the country is working at full capacity.

Another bonus is you wearing his clothing. At first, it was funny to him. You didn’t grab any extra clothing when you first came over, so it was natural that you’d grab a shirt of his to sleep in. Then the morning came, and you wandered around his apartment in a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt. He had to admit, you looked stunning like that. So casual, carefree, painfully domestic. You’d pounced on him in bed after two coffees and insisted that you spend the weekend in bed entirely.

So you did. Saturday was spent mostly nude in his big bed, your head pressed to his chest or occasionally to his lips. When Javier asked if you wanted to run to your apartment for more clothing, you’d pouted. “But it’s hot outside. I don’t wanna go all the way over there.”

As much as you enjoyed your own clothing, there was such a charm to wearing Javi’s. His clothes were big on you, even as they pulled tight on his thick arms and broad chest. They were comfortable too, and smelled just like him. It was a perfect comfort when he was at work and you sat bored in his apartment.

Javi sighed and asked if you’d like him to go get some. You gave a wide grin, and he begrudgingly made his way to your apartment. He packed you a bag of enough clothes for a week, and promised you if the air conditioning wasn’t fixed by then, he’d do it himself. And when he got back, he’d absolutely wreck you.

When he returned, he made good on his second promise and the two of you spent the whole day in his bed. A few lazy rounds of sex, lots of little kisses, and murmured words of affection into the other’s ear.

It was so perfect that it was really no surprise that Sunday came and went the same. You’d showered in the early morning, and Javier joined you. Shower sex occurred. Then you made breakfast and ate it in bed with him. You dozed in and out of sleep together for a few hours too. When noon rolled around, Javier treated you to a wonderful hour of his face buried between your legs, eating you out and never stopping. More sleep. You watched some television, snuggled, talked about the week behind you and the week coming up.

You ordered and ate takeout for dinner, also in bed. You finally drifted off late at night and groaned as Javier’s loud alarm woke you.

“Don’t go to work, baby,” you whine, throwing your arms around him.

“I just spent two days in bed with you. What more do you want from me?” He murmurs sleepily, sitting up and running a hand through his messy hair.

“All of your love and affection,” you say cheerfully, as if it’s not hard to give. Javier has already found it isn’t difficult with you. You’d had it since the moment you met.

“Cute, very cute,” he chuckles and taps your ass as he gets out of bed.

Even with the air conditioner pumping chilled breezes through the apartment at full speed, it’s as if the heat outside has settled inside of you. Your skin isn’t sweating but you feel flushed, stifled by all the clothing you’re wearing. So you strip down a little, heading to Javier’s room for something light.

As you remove your top, you smile as you see your favorite of Javier’s shirts. It’s a bright magenta, and you slip it over your shoulders. It’s a light material, but you leave it unbuttoned, exposing your lacy white bra beneath it. You keep the white shorts you’re wearing on. Looking in the mirror, you wish there was a way to show Javier how good you look right now. Instead, you settle for the fact that it’s… fuck, it’s only 4.30?

You’re restless. You’ve done plenty today: cleaned Javi’s kitchen, watched some telenovelas, read from an interesting book you were making your way through, organized his bedroom, and it’s still only 4:30. If you’re lucky, Javier will get home around 5:15 at the earliest. You know his job is demanding; he could be there all night.

Desperate for anything to do, you turn to one of Javier’s vices. Grabbing the pack of cigarettes from the counter, you make your way to the couch and plop down, resting your feet on his coffee table. You take out a single cigarette and ignite it with the little flick lighter Javier keeps on the end table.

For the next ten minutes, you breathe slowly, inhaling and exhaling the nicotine. Your eyes slip shut as your head rests against the back of the couch. You’re tired and lazy and still so fucking warm for some reason.

The night passes painstakingly slowly. You watch the 5:00 news, then the 6:00 and the 6:30. Finally, around 6:45, the doorknob jingles and Javier enters.

You’re cooking dinner by then, the stovetop sizzling with something good. It smells wonderful, he notes as he drops his briefcase and keys by the door, but there’s something even more enticing in the kitchen.

His radio is playing loudly, and you dance around the kitchen to the music as you cook. There’s sunlight filtering in through the windows, the last rays of the summer sun starting to descend. The large shirt fans out as you twirl, revealing the soft bare skin of your lower back. You’re already driving him crazy and you don’t even know he’s home.

He walks into the kitchen, and you look up with a grin as you see him. “Hi, Javi,” you sing as you wrap your arms around him, on your tiptoes. “Missed you today.”

“Missed you too… is that my shirt?” He asks, and you laugh happily, looking down at your outfit.

Javier finally processes the rest of the look and it sends a chill down his spine. Your breasts look so perfect, as if they’re perched there just for him. They are, but he doesn’t know that yet. “Yeah. I know we have the A/C pumping in here, but it still feels so hot,” you shrug, turning back and stirring something in the pan.

Javier wraps his arms around you from behind, his chin perching on your shoulder. “You look good in my clothes,” he murmurs.

“I think it’s making me pick up some of your habits,” you giggle and nod to a glass of whiskey to the right of the stove. “I’ll pour you one. You keep stirring these,” you tell him and kiss his cheek, sliding out of his arms.

He gets changed eventually, out of his work clothes and into a t-shirt and a rare pair of shorts you never knew he owned. It must be hot at the Embassy, you consider, and even though it’s cool in here, the effects linger. He must feel the heat the same way you do.

The two of you sip your glasses of whiskey as dinner cooks, and Javier’s eyes rarely leave yours. When they do, they’re on your chest or your ass in those little white shorts.

“Go sit down,” you tell him as the food finishes. “It’s almost done, and it’ll need to cool before we can eat it.”

He nods in agreement and meanders to his couch, lying down lengthwise and sighing. You glance over at him and smirk a little. You’d planned this all day, been missing his body and his strong arms. His warmth was missing when you attempted taking a nap in his bed. He was right where you wanted him, lighting up a cigarette. The food is done, just needs to cool now.

“I was so restless today,” you smile as you wander similarly to the living room. He takes in your legs as they stand in front of him, rubbing a hand up the back of your thigh and admiring what he sees.

“And why was that?” He asks before blowing out a cloud of grey from between his lips.

You shrug. “Missed you. Had nothing to do, really, since this isn’t my house. But mainly I missed you.”

He grabs at your thigh, thick fingers pressing into the soft flesh, and you smirk down at him. You straddle him, stealing the cigarette from his lips. You let it dangle between yours and smile down at him.

He looks up at you, dazed. Between your hips hovering above his and the nicotine slowly buzzing its way into his brain, he’s beyond contentedness. “Missed you too, sweet thing,” he murmurs, splaying his fingers across your thigh. Your hands are similarly pressed to his chest, fingers spread wide against the cotton-covered skin, skin that you can tell is warm and turning pink from a rush of blood. “Got to take you whenever I wanted this weekend. Had to wait all day to get home and fuck you again.”

His words make you shiver, and you pass the cigarette back to him. When he takes a drag in, you grind your hips across his slowly. “How was work today?” You ask, though you really don’t care. You know the answer when it comes to Javi: stressful, annoying, frustrating, tiring.

He shudders too, and you can feel his cock hardening beneath you. “Shitty,” he sighs. “Fuckin’ Stechner. I swear to god, I’d let the narcos take him.”

You chuckle softly, starting to drag your hips across his aching crotch. “They wouldn’t want him. They’d want someone like you,” you mumble, leaning down over him. “That would really bring the gringos down.”

He’s in Heaven, he really must be. Your tits hang in front of his face, and you steal his cigarette and take another drag, your hips continuing to grind into his. There’s the smell of cooking from the kitchen and in all honesty, Javier is blissed out already. “No they wouldn’t.”

You giggle and kiss the side of his face, giving him the cigarette again. “Mm, maybe you’re right. Too stubborn. Or your girlfriend might go crazy and go after them from withholding her boyfriend’s dick from her.”

Javier chuckles lazily, taking one last drag before stubbing out the remains in the ashtray. “Wouldn’t make it 24 hours before you’d kill them all. You know how you get when you’re determined.”

You nod, lifting your face to kiss his lips slowly. It takes a few moments, passionate and deep and tasting of cigarettes and that whiskey. You pull away and his eyes dart between yours. “I’m going to get up, and you’re going to take off your clothes,” you mumble, your lips only millimeters from his.

He smirks up at you and steals one more kiss. “Then get up and let me undress,” he murmurs, and you stand to the side for him.

He chuckles and sits upright again, pulling down your shorts and admiring the panties beneath. He rubs his fingers across your folds through them, and he can already feel your wetness gathering. “Oh fuck me, honey.”

“You can if you get your own clothes off,” you tease and pull off his t-shirt yourself. He pushes off his shorts and boxers, kicking them aside as it reveals his rock-hard dick. You smile and lick your lips a little. “Lay back down.”

He does exactly that, smiling. You slip your panties off and straddle him again, your breasts bouncing in your bra with the movement. His pink shirt follows you along, and he can’t help but run his hands up your sides, admiring you in the hue. “Pink is your color.”

“Only when it’s yours,” you giggle, dragging your hips into Javier’s erection. He shudders and you guide yourself to rest with his dick pressed into your folds. “You ready for me?” You ask, fingers splayed on his chest again. This time, they lay on his caramel-colored abs, making you smile at the juxtaposition between now and just a few moments ago; blue fabric separated your hands touching him, now you can only feel bare skin.

“Go ahead, baby,” he assures you, his large hands grabbing your hips and lining you up.

It doesn’t take more than a second for you to sink down on him, moaning and tilting your head back at the feeling as you slowly take more and more. “Javi,” you whimper softly, toes curling at the sensation. “You’re so fucking big,” you whine, and it’s true. He is, his dick almost painfully long as it presses up and into your cervix already.

“Feels so fuckin’ good,” he grunts, his eyes closed as he takes in the sensation of you on top of him.

“Light another cigarette,” you order him, his cock fully sheathed inside of you. He nods, sitting up to reach the pack, and both of you make soft noises at the grind it gives, the base of his cock against your entrance.

He flicks the lighter and holds it to the little white stick. The end glows orange. “Good,” you nod and begin to lift yourself up and push yourself down as Javier takes a long drag from the cigarette.

You involuntarily tighten at how fucking good he looks beneath you, a light sheen of sweat starting to form on his forehead, smoke trailing from between his lips. “Javier,” you groan, your eyes slipping shut as you begin to bounce on him.

He knows exactly what you want, what you need to make this all that much better. His free hand no longer rests on your hips but circles your clit with two fingers. “There we go, baby girl,” he moans out at the way you sound from the motion. You sound wrecked, and he can’t get enough of it. “Mm, fuck, take what you need from me.”

Javier opens his eyes to look up at you. The sight is fucking magnificent: your tits bounce against that white lace, the pink fabric of his shirt draped against your sides. Just when he thinks you couldn’t look even hotter, you snatch his cigarette.

You cry out his name again and again as you slowly take a puff, the sensation too much to bear. Gripping the cigarette with your teeth, you press both hands to his chest and ride him faster, harder.

Your face is furrowed in concentration, sweat sliding down one temple. A bit of grey smoke obscures your face to him, but it’s still a fucking sight to behold. It’s everything he’s ever wanted and needed and more, a girl like you wearing his shirt and smoking his favorite cigarettes while you bounce on his dick, that sexy body moving along with his.

He can’t even thrust up into you. You’re grinding your hips down with every time you bottom out, his dick pressing right against your g-spot. He can’t even try. It’s fucking amazing. One of his hands reaches up to allow you to take a drag from it. It’s incredibly intimate, not just the way you’re obliterating him but the way he holds the cigarette to your lips. He takes it away for you to puff the smoke from your lungs then brings it back.

It doesn’t take long with the combination of everything. You shudder and pass the cigarette off to him fully, too occupied with what you’re doing. “Fuck, baby,” you whimper, his fingers pressing faster against your clit. “Really close.”

“Yeah?” He murmurs, taking his own puff from the cigarette before stubbing it out to his side on the coffee table. His long arms can easily reach. With a hand now free, he grips your waist and guides you up and down on him, just the way you like it.

His hand drifts higher, reaching your neck. He doesn’t squeeze or grab, just rests it there. Holds you in place, almost. It feels good, his hands roaming your body, and you cry out in pleasure.

“Come on, honey. Cum for me,” Javier urges.

Only a few more seconds pass before your peak washes over you, sending you into sheer bliss. Javi’s fingers don’t slow in the slightest, and he takes this opportunity to begin thrusting up into you as your bouncing involuntarily slows.

Your hand slides over where his rests on your neck, lacing your fingers through his. You cry his name and your head falls against his hand, eyes fluttering with pleasure.

Javier is now the one in control once more. He brings both hands to your hips and thrusts up into you, his movements sharp and harsh. His hips smack yours and the tip, buried deep inside of you, hits your g-spot, sending you into a pleasant state of overstimulation. “Fuck, Javi,” you whimper, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

Everything feels so warm and tender, your walls oversensitive now. It doesn’t matter to you in the slightest; rather, you relish it. You bring one hand to your clit and rub it yourself, shuddering. “Come on, Javi,” you plead, regaining yourself and working your hips back against his.

It’s all so good and so much and overwhelming. He can barely use any of his senses other than touch, can barely hear you as his head spins with the feeling of teetering on the edge. “Gonna cum, baby girl,” he groans, and you work your hips harder into his, desperate for it.

He can tell, and it makes him lose control. He spills hot and deep inside of you, the heat rushing through his body expunging the warmth that’s built inside of him all day from the goddamn Colombian summer. “That’s it, fuck,” he cries out as the orgasm rolls through his body.

The feeling of his cum spilling inside you is just enough, in tandem with your fingers. You cum a second time, your walls squeezing him tight, milking him dry of anything he can produce. “Javi,” you whimper, and he only notices you’re cumming for the second time when a warm gush rushes across his hips.

“Fuck, good girl, baby,” he breathes out as he comes down from his high, you equally as overwhelmed on top of him. After a few moments of heavy breathing, you remove yourself from around him and lie there, pressed to his chest.

Javier’s legs are bent at the knee, surrounding you on either side of your thighs. They press into you, and you lay on top of him with your ear pressed over his heartbeat. It’s still frantic, but it’s coming down. Javier wraps his arms around you, a finger tracing slowly up and down your spine through that damned pink shirt of his.

“Why do you love this shirt so much, hm?” He asks, breaking the warm and tired silence between you.

You chuckle. It’s certainly not what you expected to be asked, but you like it. “Kind of think I look like you when I wear it. I think what you saw just then is what I see normally. You on top of me, fucking me hard, sometimes with a cigarette.”

“Oh, you looked just like me,” he laughs sarcastically, shaking his head. “And when I have I ever fucked you while smoking?”

“Just like you,” you repeat in a soft and happy murmur, a small smile gracing your face.

“Jesus, you really must have missed me today,” he chuckles softly.

“Withdrawal, I guess. You leave me, I have to pick up another vice. I sat here smoking for a while today.”

“First of all, I did not leave you,” Javi chuckles softly. “And really?”

You shrug. “It just came to me to do it. It wasn’t great or anything, but it was something to do. To pretend you were there with me.”

Javi sighs and kisses the side of your head. “Well, should we go eat before the food is fully cold?”

You laugh. “I think it’s already cold, Javi.”

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