#and the choices are always mine as in 'what's convenient to the game' rather than 'what would this character do' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

potter-imagines · 4 years

Text

Staying at the Burrow with your boyfriend Fred Weasley...

- Fred loathed his time away from Hogwarts on any break that you weren’t with him

- Since the Christmas of your fourth year, it has become a sort of tradition for you to going your boyfriend and his family for the holidays

- And if you would even suggest a change in plans, Fred would beg you otherwise

- “Y/n pleaseeee, angel? I already told my mum that you’re coming, and she already started knitting! You’ll break her heart!” “Okay fine, I’ll come but only for Molly.”

- It means the absolute world to Fred that you love his family and that his family loves you

- Ginny would await your arrival by the front door, practically buzzing with excitement

- Every time you visit the Burrow, you make sure to bring gifts for his family

- Your favorite person to give presents to is Arthur

- You always bring him some new muggle object that never fail to fascinate him

- “Oh, Molly! Y/n’s here- ooh I wonder what she’s brought for me this time! I hope it’s one of those clicky writers!” “You mean a pen, dear.” “Yes, yes, Molly, a pem!” “Arthur, no-“

- Most breaks Harry would also tag along which meant more players for your quidditch games

- Fred and George were usually team captain

- Fred always picked you first for his team

- Unless George got to pick first

- He would pick you just in spite of Fred, which usually caused petty bickering between the twins

- “Bloody hell, George! You pinky promised me you wouldn’t pick Y/n! You said I could have her-“ “Freddie, you spend almost 24 hours a day with her. She’s just on my team for one game!”

- George would playfully torture you two during the whole break with comments here and there

- “Hey dad, I saw Fred sneak Y/n into our room last night.” “George!” “…let’s just not tell your mother, understood?”

- Doing the dishes with Fred and having a bubble fight

- George wasn’t lying tho

- Fred would sneak you into his room almost every night

- Molly had caught you two a few times but she never brought it up

- Fred was nearly 18 and Molly absolutely adored you

- So she’d smile to herself and pretend she never saw a thing

- Going on walks with Ron and Harry

- A lot of cute little moments with Fred

- Like him giving you his sweater when you get cold at night

- He likes to draw pictures on your back when you’re cuddling as you try to guess what it is

- “Uh… I’m not sure, is it a flower?” “No, angel. It was an owl! Okay now guess this one…”

- George would constantly whisper shout at the two of you when he’s trying to sleep

- “Can you lovesick puppies shut up! Some of us are single and would rather be miserable in peace. I can’t handle all the cute lovey whispers, it’s bloody sickening! I’m ready to share a bed with Percy- that’s how bad it is.”

- This would cause Fred and yourself to erupt with laughter much to George’s displeasure

- Sneaking around the house to have some *cough* private time

- Making out in his backyard

- Fred doesn’t like when you go for walks alone outside the house

- Times are tense and you’re the last person, besides a family member, that he could afford to lose

- He’ll always walk by your side and crack jokes just so he can hear you laugh

- Whether he realizes it or not, whenever you two go walking together Fred will always hold your hand and swing it back and forth

- He loves kissing your knuckles and the back of your hand

- He’s honestly so sweet when he’s not putting 24 hour color changing hair dye in your shampoo

- You’ve spent so many Christmas’ at the Weasley’s that Molly has a stocking for you and a gift ready every time

- Fred purposely places mistletoes around the house for you two to ‘conveniently’ meet under

- “Fred! You know I’m your girlfriend so you can kiss me whenever, right?” “But this is more romantic, darling! You’re the first girl I’ve ever kissed under a mistletoe- and the only, and last girl I want to kiss for my whole life. I’d like to continue that tradition.” “Well how can I say no to that?”

- Fred will literally take any chance offered to kiss you

- George loves to annoy the two of you by squeezing in the middle of your cuddles

- “George! You git, get out of here!” “But I need some love too!” “Yeah, find it with a girl who isn’t my girlfriend!”

- Fred will make you coffee or tea each morning, whichever you prefer

- Making hot chocolate together for the whole family during winters at the Burrow

- Marshmallow mustaches

- You kiss the marshmallows off Fred’s mouth, running your tongue along his upper lips which causes a deep scarlet blush to slap his cheeks

- “How do you like it when the tables are turned, Fred?” “I quite like it actually… that was hot.” “Fred!”

- During winter, you guys will have snowball fights outside with all the Weasley siblings plus Harry, and Hermione

- You and Fred have a competition on who can make the biggest snow man

- Your relationship is built off humor, friendship, and love so there is not a day that passes by where tears aren’t pouring from your eyes out of laughter

- Fred likes to wake you up by jumping on you and attacking your face with little pecks

- “Wake up, angel! I’ve been waiting ten minutes for you to get up but I couldn’t wait any longer now c’mon!”

- Fred loves to watch you get ready for the day

- Oddly enough, his favorite part is your makeup routine (if you wear any)

- It’s such a foreign world to him, he’s amazed by all the different products and how you can tell them all apart

- “Freddie, baby, can you hand me my mascara?” “Uh... sure?”

- Hands you your concealer

- He just wants to help!

- He teaches you how to ice skate out on the pond

- Loves kissing your frozen red cheeks when you two come inside after being in the snow

- Will boop your nose

- You spend a lot of time with Ginny on breaks

- She looks up to you greatly, so she gets so excited when you stay with the Weasley’s

- “Y/n, Y/n, you’re here! Come, put your stuff in my room! We can have a sleepover-“ “Wow, Ginny, hadn’t realized Y/n was your girlfriend and not mine.” “Shut up, Fred.”

- You help Fred and George play pranks on differently family members

- Molly is typically the only one that is immune from these pranks

- All three of you are far too terrified to make her angry

- You will often rummage through Fred’s closet instead of opening your suitcase

- And when he catches you in the act

- Fred will chase you around the house

- “That’s my jumper! Oh you’re in for it, Y/l/n!”

- Some days at the Burrow, Fred and you barely get out of bed

- Especially on rainy days

- The sound of raindrops pounding against the roof of the house was comforting, the warm embrace of Fred had that effect on its own even without the rain

- Maybe once a trip, you guys will take the car into town

- It’s a bit of a drive so the Weasley’s don’t like to make more trips than necessary

- Molly refuses to hand the keys to either of the twins and will only give them to you

- She doesn’t trust the twins not the wreck the car

- Every trip to the Burrow, you find yourself growing closer to your boyfriend

- You spend every day together at school, but being outside of the castle is a little different

- You have more freedom, more choices

- It makes the both of you thrilled about graduating and moving in together

- Fred can’t wait for the day he is able to spend every day with you by his side

1K notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Omertà👄17

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape.

This is dark!Bucky and dark! Loki and explicit (with sides of dark!Steve and dark!Thor). Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father was a bookie and taught you everything you know about numbers. After his death, you were taken on as a bookkeeper for Loki Laufeyson, resident crime boss in Manhattan. But can you keep your place in the background when a man from Brooklyn threatens to drag you to the forefront?

Note: uh, yeah, here’s an update!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

masterlist

You were surprised and relieved that both men heeded your warning and left you alone. Even so, you slept with the club-like lamp close at hand and woke early as you went over the ideas brewing in your head. If you saw this casino through, you wouldn’t survive much longer. You doubted you’d even make it to the opening at this point.

You wore a tight black wrap dress that bared your thigh when you sat. You checked your reflection and preened before you grabbed your purse and headed for Loki’s room. You had to make this convincing. You had to work with Loki, not against him. Just for a time.

You knocked and tapped your heel on the hotel carpet. The door opened and Loki greeted you in a half-button shirt, untucked, and uncombed hair. His jaw twitched and he backed up a step as he let out a long breath.

“You’re early,” he nodded you inside. As you entered, he swung the door closed and finished buttoning his shirt. He strode around the room, tidied from the night before though still smelling of wine, and took his tie from the end table. He looped it as you lingered by the door.

“I think we should talk,” you said.

“We should?” he scoffed as he straightened his tie.

“About business,” you offered, “that’s why we’re here and we’ll get nothing done if we keep on like this.”

“All would be in order if you did not insist on being a stubborn bi--”

“Loki,” you curtailed his insult, “I mean it. Send me back to New York, just for a day.”

“I need you here.”

“I’ll stay until the morning but… Bucky told me some things about Diablo.”

“Diablo?” Loki squinted as he took a sleek black comb and looked into the mirror hung from the wall.

“You want me to show my loyalty to you, that’s what I’m doing.” You watched him comb his dark hair. “You own my bounty so what good is it to betray you? I owe you.”

He slapped the comb against his palm and turned to you. He set it aside and winced. He rolled his shoulder where you’d hit him and rubbed it.

“You’ve a far way to go to trust,” he warned.

“Look, you know how men like Bucky are. You think he doesn’t talk after… well, you know? He likes to boast. This whole casino business, that’s proof alone that Diablo is working behind your back. You might not trust me but you should trust him even less.”

“What are you proposing, pet?” he pulled on his jacket and yawned.

“Send me back to New York with Thor. I’ll need protection. You stay here. You can tell Bucky you sent me to keep me away from him or whatever makes your ego feel better.”

“Pet--” he began and you waved away his caution.

“Whatever,” you pressed, “you send me there and I will not return without answers. Diablo thinks he owns the city, that he owns me. He got on over on you with this seaside sty and I don’t think he should get away with that.”

“Why would you do any of this?”

“Because it’s my head as much as yours, because, as much as I hate to admit it, I’d rather be owned by you then Diablo.”

“And how will you get these answers?” Loki came near and looked down his nose at you.

“Hmm,” you smiled coyly, “all you men think my father left me alone with nothing. I know everyone he knew, I’m the sweet little girl who used to carry colouring books around to all the meetings. And as little as I knew her, I learned from my mother. Women have a way of snaking their way through the desert of bad men and we find sisterhood in our tolerance of their bad deeds. Diablo has girls coming and going, he tosses them away and do you think they appreciate him for that?”

Loki considered you and his lips threatened to curve. He ran his fingertips along his lapel and tilted his head.

“You are clever, aren’t you?” he asked.

“I make do,” you shrugged, “you keep me here and Bucky’s gonna keep playing this game. Don’t you think that’s a little too convenient for Diablo? He’s distracting both of you, he’s got you both of New York… why is that?”

Loki poked his tongue through his teeth and tsked. He turned away and swirled his finger through the air as he thought.

“I have been distracted, by you most of all,” he mulled, “I suppose it would be wise to figure out Diablo’s game and to get you away from that pitbull hounding my business.”

You were quiet, you had to let Loki think it was all in his hands. He went to the window and looked out, he let out a low snicker.

“See out the day, darling, and return to me tonight. I should like a proper goodbye before you go,” he checked his watch as he turned on his heel, “I will allow you a day in the city and you will return with the information you’ve promised me. I do not appreciate those who waste my time, you know that.”

“I do,” you confirmed, “and I’m done wasting my own.”

“Well then,” he crossed the room and his hand skirted up your side, “let us go on and face the day.”

You turned and reached for the door handle. He stopped your hand before you could twist it.

“I did not forget last night. It will not happen again or that little asterisk should disappear from my ledger, understood?”

You looked him in the face and held his eye. You nodded, “understood.”

“Very well,” he brushed his hand across your ass and gave a light slap, “go on.”

👄

You arrived at the casino before the other men. Loki saw you to your office and huffed about his brother’s usual lateness. Bucky and his men appeared shortly after and the builders continued their work in a storm of hammers and drills.

You sat with your ledger as Thor winked at you before following his brother from the office. He was anything but subtle but you could use his lechery to your advantage. You bent over the columns but did not see the numbers. Instead, you went over your plot.

Men, you realised a little too late, were easy. You just had to appeal to their most basic instincts. Feed their egos and you could feed yourself. You bit your lip as you shoved down your anxiety. There were many ways this could go wrong.

You were surprised to look up and find Bucky in your doorway. His arms were crossed as he watched you. He bit his thumb as he came closer and dropped his hands to hook his thumbs in his pocket.

“You’re going away tomorrow,” he said as he pulled up a chair and sat. “Your boss is a coward. Sending you away. I know he just can’t stand the idea of you and me, sweetheart.”

You looked at him and nodded. He leaned back and cracked his neck.

“That’s quite a swing you got. Hell of an arm.” He chuckled, “can’t say it didn’t hurt.”

You swallowed and set down your pencil. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Oh, you should’ve hit us harder,” he bent his arm against the chair and rubbed his index with his thumb. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

You looked down and batted your lashes. Your thoughts whirred and you fought to still them.

“Ah, sweetheart, this is messy, isn’t it?”

“He’ll never let me go,” you said softly, “he won’t.”

Bucky was quiet. You heard his sole scrape the floor and the chair creaked. “But you want away from him?”

“Of course I do,” you looked up tearily, “but I know how he is. It’s why--” you sniffed, “well, you don’t care about all that. You only want one thing.”

He frowned and lowered his hand as he leaned forward. “Now sweetheart, you know I like you for more than that. I wouldn’t still be chasin’ you around if I didn’t.”

You scoffed and shook your head. “Don’t lie to me.”

He raised a brow and sighed. “I know I haven’t been… gentle but I didn’t lie when I said I’d give you better.”

“You can’t--”

“He’s sending you with his brother, right?”

You furrowed your brow and nodded. “He doesn’t trust me,” you said, “and he’s mad. He wants to punish me.”

Bucky poked his cheek with his tongue and thought. “You really knocked some sense into me, sweetheart, and I hate to see what he made you do last night. I’d never make you walk around like that in front of other men. You’d be mine, only mine.”

“You shouldn’t be saying all this.”

“He shouldn’t be sending you away.”

“Well,” you threw your hands up, “what can I do?”

“You do nothing,” he said, “all you gotta do is what I tell you.”

“I don’t--”

“I’ll take care of Loki and I got men who can deal with his dumb brother,” Bucky intoned, “you just gotta say the word.”

Your heart hammered. This wasn’t what you expected but it could still work. You searched Bucky’s face and leaned forward and lowered your voice. “Why?”

“I didn’t buy a casino to work with Loki, only to get close enough to him,” he growled, “this peace was never gonna last.”

“What--”

“You go with Thor as planned. Act like normal, like nothing’s changed. Get him to that antique shop and my men will take care of the rest. You’ll be safe, you got my word.”

“You want me to go against Loki?”

“I want you to jump ship before it sinks,” he said coolly, “I’d hate to see you drown, sweetheart.”

“Why would I do that? Trade him for you? How is that any different for me?”

Bucky inhaled deeply and smirked, “you haven’t given me a chance, sweetheart, but your other choice isn’t so good. This is still business, if I gotta put you down with him, I will.”

You folded your hands on the desk and scrunched your lips. You fought not to show your own grin that threatened to burst through. These men were so focused on each other and their war, they didn’t realise the big picture could be skewed by the finer details.

👄

Loki was waiting for you. You knocked on his door but it was unlocked. You entered and found him in a black robe with a glass of wine. He didn’t acknowledge you as you turned the lock or even as you neared him. He tossed back the last of the cabernet and set the glass aside.

His green eyes met yours at last and he stretched his arms over the back of the couch. He was slightly drunk, you could tell by the colour in his cheeks. His gaze fell down your figure and he beckoned you forth with two fingers.

“I hate to admit it but I think I will miss you,” he slid one hand along the front of his robe and unknotted the belt. He pulled it open and exposed his erection, “you will depart with my brother in the morning and he will see you to the city.”

You wriggled out of your dress and let it pile at your feet. You unhooked your bra as he began to play with himself and shimmied out of your panties. You stepped in front of him and bent to brace his shoulders as you climbed up to straddle you.

“Do you think I’ll be back or is this goodbye?” you asked.

“What do you mean?” he rasped.

“You don’t think I’ll be caught?”

He narrowed his eyes and touched your hips. He pulled you down until his tip slid along your folds.

“Do you?” he challenged.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you confessed.

“You have my brother, his men and mine,” he pushed you further and slid inside of you with a gasp. “When we are rid of Diablo and his deception, we will deal with Barnes. You will be mine, pet, only mine.”

“Would you want me when he is gone?” you ran your nails down his chest and he shivered.

“You would be thankful to only be my accountant again,” he gripped your hips as he moved your body, “but I don’t think I could let you be just that.”

“You’re drunk, Loki,” you taunted, put off by his unusual candour.

“I’m horny,” he admitted, “and you feel good.”

You purred and kept rocking in his lap. Despite your loathing, your helplessness, you were soothed by his body. For once, it wasn’t rough, it wasn’t angry, it wasn’t punishing. With what could be disaster facing you, you wanted to bask in this last moment of peace. Fuck away the stress and the fear.

“You never fucked me like this, pet,” he reached to cup your tit, “you’re afraid?”

You lowered your head tellingly and sped up. You didn’t want to talk, you just wanted to get off. Even if you despised him, even if it was wrong. He groaned and hung his head back against the couch as he teased your nipples with his thumbs.

“Perhaps it is that I am merely preferable to that animal, Barnes. The lesser of two evils? I do not mind that.”

He clenched his teeth as he watched the way you glided up and down his length. Your thighs burned as you rode him eagerly, wishing he would just shut up. He snarled as you leaned into him and he took your nipple between his lips and nibbled.

You dug your nails into his shoulders and gasped for breath as you neared your climax. You closed your eyes and the hotel room slaked away. You weren’t there, you weren’t with him, you were only reaching for your bliss. You were so close; so close to being free, even if it wasn’t forever.

“Oh, darling,” he grunted and his hips bucked as you reached down to play with your clit.

He came inside of you as your walls clenched him and you guided yourself to your own orgasm with your fingers and the fullness. You stopped and sat back as you wiped away the sweat from your brow. You exhaled and he tilted his hips so that you tensed around him.

“I will have a surprise for you on your return,” he swore as his green irises flamed, “oh, I think you should like it very much.”

You watched him as he closed his eyes and caught his breath. You blinked as your head spun and you caught his implication. Just as Bucky planned to strike his foe, Loki plotted much the same. You hid your delight and latched onto the back of the couch as you began to move again. You should have realised earlier how easy these men were.

259 notes · View notes

emmatheficreccer · 3 years

Text

Goin’ To The Chapel And We’re Gonna Get Married...

Happy Friday!

So.......... Arranged Marriage fics are my all-time favorite trope LMAO. I just never get tired of two strangers who gotta get married for politics or whatever and then they just gotta figure out how to live together, learn each other’s language, overcome cultural differences.... IT’S SO GOOD EVERY TIME. Here are a few of my favorite Arranged Marriage fics in no particular order:

Title: Just as You Are Mine

Author: prosciutto / @prosciuttoe

Ship: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin (The 100)

Rating: Mature

Words: 23,637

Summary: Bellamy’s already there by the time she makes her way to the centre of the room. She didn’t get a good look at him before, so Clarke takes the time to look at him now.

He’s not all that much taller than she is, but the breadth of his shoulders feels worrying, somewhat. His skin is marked with a array of calluses and scars, white against his tanned skin, and the deft, sure movements he makes confirms that he’s every inch the warrior he’s promised to be.

Swallowing, she steps forward, meeting his gaze. His face remains carefully blank, same as before, when Kane had told her that they’d be married.

In hindsight, marrying a total stranger may not have been one of Clarke's brightest ideas.

(Or: Arranged Marriage AU. Clarke seals an alliance with the Broadleaf clan by marrying Bellamy Blake.)

emmatheficreccer: I LOVE Grounder Bellamy AUs and this is one of the best ones out there!! Bellamy is very soft; we love to see it.

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

Title: To Know His Heart

Author: hkafterdark

Ship: Jamie Benn/Tyler Seguin (Hockey RPF)

Rating: Explicit

Words: 26,208

Summary: With his reputation in tatters, Tyler will do anything to save his family's name - including marrying a man he hardly knows.

emmatheficreccer: OK SO I know nothing about hockey; i have no idea who these two dudes are. BUT this is one of the best Arranged Marriage/Marriage of Convenience, Regency era fics out there!!! I’ve read it so many times... the way their relationship evolves... *chef’s kiss*

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

Title: The Feasts of the Seven

Author: Gefionne / @gefionne

Ship: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark (Game of Thrones)

Rating: Mature

Words: 26,388

Summary: Sansa and Sandor share the Seven Feasts - A tourney for the Feast of the Warrior ends with Sandor as champion and, by the will of the king, Sansa as his prize. Over the next year, they get to know each other as they find their way in their new home at Clegane Keep.

emmatheficreccer: I love AUs where Sander is able to whisk Sansa away from King’s Landing. In this fic, Sansa and Sandor are forced to marry, but end up building a beautiful life together and it is lovely!

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

Title: Another Word for Forever

Author: stardropdream

Ship: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)

Rating: Explicit

Words: 61,028

Summary: Shiro knows better than to expect love in an arranged marriage. This is all for the sake of universal peace, after all, and solidifying a Terran-Galran alliance. At the very least, Shiro can hope to make a friend out of this.

Becoming friends would be much easier, though, if he and his husband could actually communicate. With a language barrier and a mountain of cultural differences between them, getting to know Keith proves to be a challenge.

Luckily, Shiro's always worked well with challenges.

emmatheficreccer: OK SO THIS FIC is one of my ABSOLUTE FAVORITES. A great part of Arranged Marriage AUs is two strangers overcoming cultural differences and learning to communicate. In this fic they even have a language barrier to add to the miscommunication and i just love how they eventually learn to understand each other and fall in love!!

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

Title: Not Part of the Plan

Author: Annie D (scaramouche) / @no-gorms

Ship: Castiel/Dean Winchester (Supernatural)

Rating: Explicit

Words: 337,851

Summary: Castiel's spent most of his adult life keeping his head down and staying out of trouble. This is a deliberate choice on his part, because as a cousin of the King, he'd rather stay unimportant and forgotten. This changes abruptly when King Michael decides that he has a better use for Castiel: he is to be wed to a noble member of the neighboring Republic, as part of an agreement between their two nations.

Castiel knows he has to obey, but that doesn't mean he won't rebel in what small ways he can. Unexpectedly, his actions end up having far-reaching consequences.

emmatheficreccer: So this may be my favorite fanfic series of all time. Seriously! This series has everything!! it evolves from a one night stand to an arranged marriage to an epic adventure with politics, battles and romance! The first time i read this fic series i just immediately wanted to read it again. It’s THAT good. You don’t even need to know Supernatural! The first time I read this fic, i had never seen a single episode.

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

If there is an Arranged Marriage Fic that you love, send it my way! I’d love to check it out. Also be sure to leave a Kudos and/or Comment for these lovely authors if you check out and love these fics! If you think i should do a part 2 for Arranged Marriage Fics, let me know!!

Love always,

Emma

#arranged marriage #fic recs #bellarke #destiel #sheith #sansan #jamie benn x tyler seguin #it's my favorite trope y'all!!!!#the 100 #supernatural #voltron #hockey rpf #game of thrones

36 notes · View notes

cas-kingdom · 4 years

Text

Tricky

A/N: Because Neal Caffrey would be the best big brother.

Title: Tricky

Summary: You’re sick and tired of Neal constantly doing things to land himself in prison.

Words: 2390

You knew your brother was tricky.

You’d be an idiot not to know it.

He was Neal Caffrey, after all, and your entire life he’d been stealing and thieving, robbing and running, never really having the time to stop.

You’d asked him once why he’d never just dropped you off on the door of someone’s house and go on about his own life, free of his baby sister, free of the weight on his shoulders, but he’d told you to stop being silly and had moved onto another subject entirely.

Peter had asked him as well, though. Not when you’d been nearby. It’d been on a night the man had come over to June’s for a drink with Neal, and they’d gone out to the balcony and left the door wide open. They’d thought you had been asleep, but you hadn’t, and you’d heard Peter ask your brother more or less the same question.

“Because she’s mine,” Neal had responded, just loud enough for you to hear. “My sister. My responsibility. My kid, you know? She had no one else. I had no one else. And my life was a... crap thing for her to be involved in... I know that. But I couldn’t let her go, Peter. I don’t know if that was selfishness on my side, but I couldn’t. And I’m glad I never did. If I’m at all sane, it’s because of her.”

You’d been able to sleep peacefully after that.

It hadn’t been that you’d feared the answer. More that you’d simply wondered if the thought had ever crossed his mind. Living the crime-high life surely wasn’t as easy with a child tailing him every step he took. Of course, Mozzie and Kate had helped, especially when he’d gone to prison, but since he’d been out and he’d somehow managed to persuade Peter he was capable of caring for his sixteen-year-old sister himself, it’d just been him and you. And Mozzie. But Mozzie was always there.

In the four years you had been apart from your brother, however, you’d learnt a lot. The ideals of the human, crime-free life. What it felt like to live in one place, despite the fact that one place wasn’t with Neal. What it felt like to not be in constant fear of the police and FBI chasing you around the world...

So, somehow, much to Peter’s satisfaction, you’d been the one person keeping your brother on the almost straight and slightly narrow since his release from prison. Or, rather, escape.

In a way, his job working for the FBI and newfound life meant he’d been given a second chance. To spend time with you that wasn’t limited or uncertain. And it was something the both of them had not taken for granted.

But, Neal Caffrey was tricky, and you knew it.

You hadn’t seen him take the key to his anklet, but then you never did. He’d once taken a slice of birthday cake right out from under your nose and had been so good a liar you’d blamed it on Mozzie for five minutes until the slice magically appeared again, a bite taken from it.

You’d still blamed Mozzie.

Now, you knew better.

And you’d thought that after four years in prison, Neal would more or less know better, too.

But the moment he’d found out Fowler might have been the cause of Kate’s death, he’d taken his anklet’s key from his pocket. It’d been a waiting game for him. You hadn’t even known he’d taken it.

The both of you had been at home. You were sat at the table, scrolling mindlessly through irrelevant articles on your laptop to pass the time. Neal had been out on the balcony, but he’d strolled in a moment ago, and the second you absently flicked your eyes up to look at him, you saw him pull the key from his pocket.

“What’s that?” you asked, knowing full well what it was. You sat up straight in the chair.

Neal paused, turning his head as though he’d forgotten you were there. “Uh-” He lifted his foot- “nothing, Y/N.”

You shook your head, standing to your feet. “That’s the key to your anklet,” you said. “When the hell did you get that?”

Neal was quiet. He put the key to the anklet and slipped it off. “Look,” he said, putting it on the table, “it doesn’t matter. Just- stay here.”

You weren’t sure what made you do it, but you did. Your face was a picture of something between fury and disbelief as you took long strides until you were standing between him and the door.

“What are you doing, Neal?” you asked, and Neal gave your a look, clearly sighing through his nose. “Does Peter know?”

“Of course he doesn’t-” He shut his eyes for a brief moment and took a step forward. “Could you just-”

“No!”

“Y/N.”

“I said no!” Your hands were balled at your sides and your brother straightened, lips pressed tightly together. It wasn’t often you clashed. You were the best of friends. Peter often called you, including Mozzie, the three musketeers.

But when you clashed, you clashed.

“You can’t do this, Neal,” you told him, a harsh edge to your tone.

Neal didn’t have much of a temper, but it was rising by the second. “Do what, Y/N?” he asked.

“Risk your life! Again!”

“I’m not risking my life-”

“Yes, you are! You’re risking it all and you don’t realise you’re risking me, too!”

Neal was a little taken back by that. His eyebrows furrowed and he had no time to respond before you suddenly leapt towards the table and grabbed up the anklet. You also snatched the conveniently placed pair of scissors next to them, and held them up for him to see.

His frown deepened and his mouth dropped open the slightest bit.

“I’ll cut it,” you threatened, without him even saying a word. He was beginning to worry, and not because you were threatening to alert the FBI to his almost escape. “I’ll cut and then Peter will come here and you won’t be able to leave.”

Neal put both hands slowly up, watching as you tensed and drew the scissors closer to the anklet. He involuntarily rose both eyebrows and shook his head.

“Hey, hey,” he said, his tone hopefully a lot more calming than he was feeling. “Put the scissors down.” He was gentle, but for some reason you only grew more agitated.

“Go to hell, Neal!” you spat out. Your eyes were getting glassier by the second.

Neal’s confusion was etched so clearly on his face. No, he hadn’t thought you’d appreciate him stealing from Peter and managing to effortlessly get his anklet off, but he had not expected you to stand there like one of the clay statues he was working on, completely different to how you normally were.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” he tried, “what’s this about?”

You swallowed, lifting an arm to wipe at your eyes. “You.”

“What about me?”

“You want to leave me!”

“Leave you? Y/N, I-” He licked his lips and shook his head, eyes flicking around the room in utter loss for what to do. Fowler was still on his mind as they moved swiftly past the clock on the wall, but only barely.

Another thing you knew about your brother was that he was quick. And so when the door behind you opened, and you snapped your head around to see Mozzie, you stupidly didn’t account for suddenly being tackled onto the ground, the anklet and scissors knocked easily from your hands, head cushioned by his own hands so it didn’t hit against the wooden floor when you fell back.

The wind was knocked from you for a moment, and you took a moment to breathe normally, but when you did, and you opened your previously tightly shut eyes to see Neal’s, your face hardened again and you struggled.

“Get off!” you yelled, and Neal slipped his hands from under your head, grabbing your forearms.

He glanced up. “Not now, Moz,” he said, and you heard the door shut before you were forced still.

“Enough!” Neal rarely rose his voice at you. You were his pride and joy, and you were a good girl, and the two of you got on like a house on fire (“that’ll probably be literally, one day,” Peter had remarked once) so he’d never had need of it. But you were acting almost psychotic, and he’d never seen you in such a way.

Fortunately, you ceased your struggling at his voice, so stern and loud you had no other choice. You squeezed your eyes shut. You could feel his hands tight around your wrists, your own hands balled into fists.

“I have no idea what’s gotten into you, but you need to stop this.” There was still that edge to his tone, but he spoke lower this time. “What happened to talking, huh? Like normal people? We do not pick up sharp objects and threaten each other! What the hell, Y/N?”

He wasn’t angry. He was confused. Which was why, when your face scrunched up, and tears began leaking from your eyes, he sighed and let your arms go. A rattled breath ripped from your throat and he shook his head, dropping to lie beside you and gently grasping you to pull against him.

“Please don’t go,” you all but choked out, your balled hands tucked under your chin.

His hand automatically came to the back of your head, legs bent at the knees. “If Fowler killed Kate-”

“But you don’t know that!” You raised your head, staring down at your brother with red eyes, and Neal pressed his lips together, his hand dropping beside him. “He-” You sniffed, swallowing back further tears- “He could be innocent, and you would be risking everything on something that doesn’t matter. You’d be risking us on something that doesn’t matter.”

It clicked like the last puzzle piece, and he mentally called himself a fool a hundred times over. Of course he’d known you had grown into somewhat of the personification of super glue in the years he’d been in prison. He’d returned, and suddenly the little girl he’d raised and taught to pick pockets and stand and look cute while he slipped into a top security building had grown up, and you’d thrown out any inkling at all that you would become like him. He wasn’t complaining. He’d never complain. If anything, he was thrilled you were further from the criminal life than him. But you hadn’t been that far before he’d gone away, and it’d been something for him to get used to. He doubted he’d be so lucky sticking to the right path if he didn’t have you nearby, but it seemed at times you took your so-called job a little seriously.

Not that it was a job.

You just wanted a normal life with him.

How could he fault that?

He’d stolen from an FBI agent, escaped his tracking anklet, and murder was on his mind. You knew him, and so you knew that. No wonder you’d said all you had. He was a terrible influence, and everything he’d done and was thinking of doing could garner him more time in prison than either of you would’ve able to handle. You knew that. And you’d somehow deducted that, minus the hypothetical murder, perhaps alerting Peter to the fact Neal had broken free would save your brother some time. Time with you. Time he shouldn’t have been taking for granted.

“Y/N...” He brought a hand up to cup the back of your head, shifting. An imploring love melted into the blues of his eyes as you simply stared into them. “I’m- I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m sorry.” He pulled on your head and you rested it on his chest, silent save for the occasional quiet sigh.

“I just don’t want you to have to leave me again,” you muttered.

Neal nodded, closing his eyes. “I know. I don’t want to. I-” He grit his teeth and shook his head. “Sometimes I forget you’re not thirteen anymore.”

The corners of your lips lifted a little and she rubbed at your eyes. “I didn’t mean to pick up the scissors like that.”

“Thought I’d have to drop you off at a psychward,” Neal commented, claiming victory when you breathed a short laugh. It was a quick victory, however, when his face sobered a moment later and he stared aimlessly at the ceiling. He could just about hear the clock ticking behind him. Time was running short.

“I gotta do this, Y/N,” he said slowly. Quietly. His fingers rubbed circles on the back of your head. He wondered briefly if you’d grab the anklet and scissors again, but you stayed exactly where you were.

“I have to- to know if Fowler killed her. It’s the only way.”

You blinked before sniffing and sitting up. You turned to face him, crossing your legs, and absently bit at your lip.

“Then I’m coming with you,” you said.

Neal sat up. He had half a mind to say no and tell you you were to stay home, but he knew it’d likely send you off in another frenzy. Sighing barely audibly, he leaned forward and wiped at a tear track on your pink cheek.

“Okay,” he said resignedly.

“And never do it again.” You posed it as more of an innocent question, and you glanced down at your fidgeting hands after you said it.

Neal gazed at you. “C’mere,” he said, pulling you into his arms. “I’ll try, but you know me. Can’t make a promise like that.”

You shut your eyes against his chest, wrapping your arms around him. You knew he couldn’t promise a thing like that. But it made you feel better to know he’d at least try.

“Uh, you guys done being sentimental?”

You glanced up as the door opened again and Mozzie stuck his head in. Neal turned slightly.

“Yeah, Moz,” he said. He pressed a kiss to your head and the both of you stood up. He looked at you, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“You ready?”

You shrugged, sparing another glance at the anklet and scissors, and smiled back. “Not at all.”

#white collar #neal caffrey #neal caffrey x reader #neal x reader #mozzie #mozzie x reader #mozzie x neal #neal x mozzie #peter burke #peter burke x reader #peter burke x neal caffrey #neal caffrey x peter burke #peter x neal #neal x peter #sister reader #sister!reader #teen!reader #teen reader #mine

215 notes · View notes

punkbirb · 3 years

Text

my thoughts on shining pearl

no worries, theres no spoilers

wow. ive never been driven to write anything about pokemon before. i’ve been playing my whole life, and I’ve played every mainline game, including remakes- except for black and white 2.

shining pearl has made pokemon FUN again. it has stayed so true to the original, and I so deeply appreciate that. all the small quirks of the game that I remember so fondly have made me fall in love all over again- to the point im willing to go through the trouble of getting the pokemon ive had since i was 8 off of the old ds games and onto my switch. I love the fact that this game doesnt hold your hand. It took over a year after the release of sword and shield for me to give it a try. Sword and shield- while cool in concept- were so heavily disappointing for me. the wild area was a really neat thing that I enjoyed, but it made it....too easy. it was too overwhelmingly big and just gave you any and every pokemon for no work at all. there was no reward in running up to a glaceon just standing there, waiting to be caught. I found it needless to do anything in that game because if I wanted a dusknoir all I had to do was find it roaming around the same spot it always is. forget trading and special items for evolution! it defeated the purpose for me. and items....my goodness the fact that game just gives you infinite gold nuggets and evolution stones and other items made the careful selection of focusing on developing a handful of pokemon redundant. it’s as if the focus was mostly on giving you free money for the overly expensive clothing choices rather than making it a special feature that you had to make careful decisions for. i feel like sw/sh had a lot of potential, but just lost focus on what the game was supposed to be about.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE the fact nintendo brought over the ability for your pokemon to follow behind you from heart gold/soul silver. I think i’ve been quietly begging for years to see this. I’d always adored that feature and wondered why it wasn’t more common. All the small details, like the polishing of the badges and playing music notes on them, contests, to the stickers on the ball capsules, berry planting, to the mining and secret bases, to the poffin making- even the fact that the pokemart isn’t crammed into the pokecenter all struck high chords for me. call it nostalgia, but the way it’s kept true to the original form with a few little new tweaks here and there (like the underground caverns that minimize the concept of the wild area from Sword/Shield, and the minimal focus on the wardrobe changes) is exciting. What would really solidify the deal for me is if they brought back the little item in ss/hg that turned the music into the original 8bit tracks (I know that pearl/diamond wasn’t 8bit, but hearing the original tracks would be so cool).

I do appreciate the fairly new-ish-but-not-really concept of the visual aids and battle mechanics of friendship with your pokemon carrying over into s.pearl. it’s been over a decade since i’ve played the original D/P (wow, makes me feel old), so I don’t quite remember what generation this became a mechanic. however, I feel like somehow this game kept specifically all the things I like about pokemon just for me. while i do remember using maybe 2 or 3 specific pokeapps on the watch feature, i’d forgotten how convenient it could be. I’m excited to see if any new ones have been added. Speaking of, the addition of the HM one (which I dont recall, forgive me if it isn’t new)- I so greatly appreciate that A) gym badges are required to use certain ones and B) I don’t have to waste a move slot or use a HM-designated pokemon to use HMs. I feel like requiring badges to progress with HM usage keeps true to the original pokemon journey- which is what I look for in these games. I appreciate the small backtracking aspect here and there after an HM is obtained. It urges deeper exploration and reminds you that you might not be able to progress in one particular area just yet- but don’t forget about it and some nifty rewards will be found if you come back. certain points in the game- like how to obtain a spiritomb from a certain ruin (I think)- i’m fondly remembering that “hey eventually I’ll get this pokemon here” but I don’t exactly remember how- so it’s a nice challenge that brings back that journey aspect. maybe it’s an unfair edge in terms of experience since i already know where to go and mostly what to do- but slowly recalling little bits of forgotten information are, again, making it fun, and making me really love the work that went into remastering this game. the little hint box on the menu is a nice touch for someone who is forgetful like me. Nice to open up the game after I’d been away and not have to think about “wait, what am I doing here again?” It isn’t so direct that it’s just a statement telling you specifically what to do- but rather “explore X city!”

sometimes it takes me awhile to warm up to new mechanics, such as dynamax or the mega evolutions in x and y. while I understand there needs to be some way to keep pokemon fresh and exciting- it can be a bit much sometimes. it’s honestly a nice change of pace to nix that in s.pearl (at least, so far- im only just leaving veilstone city). It’s a lot less to keep up with, and honestly they never really did much for me to start with. maybe I’m just too stuck on older gameplay. I do think they’re very neat mechanics, and have made stories interesting (since they’re usually used as plot devices). while I always thought it should’ve been an option to turn off the “super effective/not very effective/etc” tags under the moves, I suppose I wasn’t surprised to see it in s.pearl. When that mechanic was first introduced I thought it kinda took away the point of learning move types- but this isn’t really a gripe. It can definitely be a lot to keep track of- and I still even forget the whole ghost-dark-psychic type efficiency wheel. I think a lot of trainers (especially those who are new to pokemon) appreciate it.

even the battle initiations are a nice little nod to the original games. it was cool to recognize the static image of a trainer in their original battle pose for them to then burst into the 3d movement we’ve come to appreciate. the backgrounds are beautiful and feel more realistic (not literally of course) to the area you’re battling in. I wasn’t the biggest fan of the big-headed chibi overworld view, but seeing the fully rendered battle animations made me think that it’s a sort of modern take on the old, original style of the pixel sprites. definitely warmed me up to the cutesy-ness of it all.

I feel there is a huge swarm of trainers everywhere- which has been kinda annoying, but then again I probably got used to the lack of them in shield. I’d forgotten about the VS Seeker- which is definitely a nice item for when I need to grind later. I’ll admit, Roark defeated me twice before I could beat him. I honestly liked the challenge of it. It was nice knowing that i’d have to either train, train, train, or go catch a machop to use against him rather than just being handed a badge for defeating his team in 3 moves. I’d chosen chimchar, and with his lack of defense, one little fighting-type move alone wasn’t enough to defeat a team of 3 rock-types. It was wonderful to see such an early-on test of type and team efficiency!

being gifted a jirachi from a random NPC early on in the game was a nice shock to me. Not sure if that was part of the pre-order gift yet, but it was definitely a hook!

overall so far this game is not just nostalgic, but somehow very refreshing. I’m definitely looking forward to Arceus in January, and s.pearl has given me revived hope for the series. I enjoy the challenge of the game again- and I love that everything just isn’t thrown at you all at once. You have to explore and you have to work for most rewards. The selection of pokemon in grass isn’t overwhelming- it’s nicely paced, making you take on that original style of hand-picking a team that’ll best suit your needs for the moment rather than just having a plethora of variety at any given time that don’t really give you much challenge for facing the next gym.

I love this game!

#pokemon #shining pearl #brilliant diamond #j

8 notes · View notes

matthewtkachuk · 4 years

Text

feel something pt 5 - jj maybank

On the outside, you’re a kook princess with a seemingly perfect life and a perfect family. The expectations are suffocating you, to the point where the only thing you feel is numb. You’re chasing different coping mechanisms in order to feel something. Until a chance encounter with a certain blond pogue you know you’re supposed to hate gives rise to a different kind of feeling.

Warnings: angst, toxic behaviour, poor coping mechanisms, drug usage, mentions of sex, mentions of suicidal ideations (brief), Rafe being a grade a asshole, shitty parents, abuse

Pairings: JJ x reader (eventually), Rafe x reader (slight)

Words: 3.9k

A/N: I have finally delivered more than three lines of JJ content, yall are welcome. Also a little baby bit of angst, but that’s the name of my fic game. I just love Chick sm, protect my small bean 2k20.

series masterlist

(gif NOT mine - if its urs pls let me know so i can credit!!! found on the google)

You don’t know how Chick knows, but she does.

That night, she crawls into bed with you, desperately seeking your comfort as her worldview crumbles around her. You can relate, you were about her age the first time you realized that most kid’s parents don’t scream at them like they’re the scum of the earth. The major difference being you were the oldest and you didn’t have anyone to comfort you. With that thought in mind, you make a promise to yourself that you will never let Chick feel a quarter of the shit you went through.

You let her curl into you, arms clutching you tightly, head tucked into your shoulder. One hand of yours smooths her hair, the other holding her just as closely. “Sister day tomorrow?” you ask her quietly. Her only response is a slight nodding of her head against your neck, so you ask, “what do you want to do? The whole day is your choice.”

“Surfing and gumbo.” She mumbles and you can’t help but smile. If your baby sister is one thing, it’s predictable.

“Sure thing bub. Bright and early tomorrow,” you warn her, left hand fumbling to grab your phone from under your pillow before setting an alarm for six am.

She’s out like a light, no response to you. You close your eyes tightly, heart breaking for your little sister. You have trouble sleeping that night, every shifting movement and slight sigh that escaped Chick had you on high alert. Add on to that the guilt of the prior night, the warmth you felt when you thought of having Sarah back and the confusion of what was going on between you and JJ… you didn’t sleep for longer than half an hour at a time.

Six am came early that next morning, predictably right when you thought you might finally be falling asleep. Despite your exhaustion, you were looking forward to spending some quality time with your baby sister. You changed quickly in the dark, letting Chick sleep in an extra ten minutes as you flicked through your bathing suits looking for a bikini top that was a little more secure to withstand some choice waves if you caught any.

“Rise and shine, Chick!” You cheerfully shouted, flicking on the light. She groaned and raised the comforter over head, but you laughed and tore it right off the bed. “C’mon you’re the one who wanted to go surfing and you know the morning is the best.”

She grumbled a bit, but quickly darted to her bedroom to change. You met her in the hallway, smiling to yourself when you spotted her wearing the pink and blue rashguard you had gotten her for her birthday. “Alright, let’s go!” you cheered and raced her down the steps, quickly grabbing your keys from the little bowl that sat on the console table in the entranceway.

“And where are the two of you going?” Your mother sat on the front porch swing, sipping on a large cup of what you assumed to be coffee, raising a single eyebrow at your bikini and jean short combo.

“Sister day,” Chick replied before you could, “Surfing and gumbo.”

Your mothers harsh gaze softened upon gazing at her youngest daughter, smiling before waving the both of you off, telling you to have fun. You grinned at Chick and hopped into your jeep, handing her your phone to queue up a spotify playlist. The two of you goofed off and giggled the whole way to the beach, almost as if the events of the past week hadn’t happened at all.

Upon arriving at the beach, you hopped out of the driver seat and quickly took down your boards from the roof rack, handing Chick hers before setting off onto the beach. You had chosen to drive into pogue territory both for the convenience of hitting up the Wreck after and to avoid a certain kook who had made a certain confession. Plus, it was nice to be judged based on your surfing ability (or lack thereof) rather than how expensive your surfboard was.

Entering the water always felt like coming home. From the first toe dip until you were waist-deep in the ocean, it was like your entire body came alive. There was no feeling like it, when you were a kid your dad had joked that you were a mermaid. You used to spend all day in the water, coming out all pruny and honestly slightly dehydrated, but so, so happy. You and Chick paddled side by side into deeper water, and you sat up on your board to let Chick take the first crack at it. You can’t help but giggle when she wipes out approximately five seconds after popping up. She sputters and throws you an offended glance as she resurfaces.

“Let’s see you do better then,” she yelled at you with as much sass as she could muster so early in the morning.

You grinned at her, eyes watching the rolling water waiting for an appropriate wave. Finally spotting one, you started paddling to try and catch the wave before it breaks. Hopping up on your board by pushing your body up and tucking your feet under you, you stood on your board knees bent and arms relaxed, with your torso leaned forward to help balance. You couldn’t help showing off for Chick; angling your board across the wave, you leant into the turn before shifting your body weight to your front foot, letting your board slide down the face of the wave in a tail slide. You heard Chick whoop, cheering you on, causing your grin to widen.

Returning to her, you both floated on your board side by side for a few minutes, watching the waves crest and break. “Alright little Chick, your turn again, unless you want to ride the white water, I won’t judge.” She gave you a look and you just grinned at her again.

She started paddling towards a smaller wave than the one you rode, and you couldn’t help but cheer when she managed to stand on her board and ride the wave straight in. You hooted and hollered with no care in the world, celebrating your baby sister not eating shit. She was laughing on the shore line as you paddled back towards the shore to meet her.

“Not bad tail spin, y/l/n” you looked up to see JJ Maybank staring at you.

“Oh! Uhm, thank you,” you mumbled, suddenly self-conscious as his gaze traced your body.

“That was a pretty bad wipeout earlier, pretty brave of you to ride that wave after that Little y/l/n” he complimented Chick. At least, you think it was a compliment, it was a little back-handed after all.

Chick being Chick just grinned and said thanks.

“Are you goofy foot naturally, or do you just do it because y/n does?” he asked her seriously.

She looked at him in confusion, “Goofy foot?”

“He means which foot you put forward. I lead with my left,” you explained. A look that was suspiciously close to shock briefly flashed on his face, before he recovered and grinned.

“I don’t know, I guess I just copied y/n,” she admitted, face reddening a little.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Little y/l/n, but why don’t you try putting your right foot forward instead and see if that’s more of a natural stance for you.” He advised her. She looked to you, and you just smiled and shrugged at her.

“Alright, watch this you guys!” She shouted and headed back into the water.

You sat down on your towel, watching Chick take JJ’s corrections seriously as she chased a few waves. “Thank you,” you said a little reluctantly to the blond sitting next to you, his eyes trained on your sister.

He broke his gaze to turn his head to you, “’Course, gotta unteach her your bad habits.” You gasped and shoved him playfully. “Just kidding, your technique is basically perfect.”

It was your turn to turn a little red. You weren’t used to compliments without any ulterior motives. “Thanks, but it’s not that good.”

“What are you talking about? You’re amazing out there.” He complimented you again, causing your cheeks to get redder.

“Oh, look at Chick she’s going for that wave,” You pointed out at your sister, hoping to deflect some attention to her.

“She’s a quick learner,” he commented. You smiled, more than a little proud of your sister.

“She gets that from me,” you bragged, and he laughed, throwing his head back. Your mind briefly wondered what it would be like to run your fingers through his wavy hair before you snapped out of it. “You know, I think this is the longest you’ve gone without calling me princess.”

“I could call you princess if you want, princess,” he smirked at you, but you shook your head quickly.

“Y/n is just fine,” you told him as Chick came running at the two of you.

“Did you see that?” She yelled, “that was awesome!” She stuck her board in the sand before launching herself at you. You laughed, catching her on your lap, listening patiently as she babbled on about how amazing that felt. JJ found himself watching you, thinking this was the most expression he had seen you show, with the exception of your high freak out which he tried not to think about in all honesty. Chick seemed to remember JJ was there, turning to him and thanking him profusely before inviting him to the Wreck with the two of you, “We’re going to get gumbo next, you should come with!”

You sputtered, sure that JJ had better things to do than hang out with you and your little sister, “Oh, I’m sure JJ has other pl-“ you started to tell her but he quickly cut you off.

“Nah, I’ve got no where to be, count me in.” He told Chick, smirking at you causing you to roll your eyes slightly.

“Alright alright,” you sighed before pushing Chick off of you, “dry off a bit first I don’t want you dripping all over my seats.”

JJ had no problem sliding into your backseat, sitting in the middle and leaning forward so that his upper body rested against the center console. You found his closeness a little distracting but you would never admit that, so instead you snapped at him and told him to “put on his seatbelt or you would slam on the breaks so hard he would go through the windshield”. He had grinned like he knew the real reason you wanted him to sit back, which only served to irritate you.

You couldn’t help but think what your parents would say if they knew a pogue was sitting in the back seat of the car they bought you. The more you thought about it, you realized you didn’t really care what they thought. JJ had been kind to Chick and you were just returning the favor. That’s it.

“So what is Chick short for?” JJ asks through a mouthful of french fries, several minutes later sitting across from you and your sister at the Wreck.

“Chicken nugget,” you answer gleefully, stealing a fry. You laugh at JJ’s wide eyes, practically seeing the thought bubble over his head as he considers the stupidity of kook names.

Chick laughs, throwing a fry at you, before responding to JJ, “No it’s not. It’s not short for anything, and it’s not actually my name”

“I came up with it,” you tell him proudly, “Our parents wanted me to be a part of the name decision and let’s just say I was a really creative four year old.”

JJ laughs loudly at that, tipping his chair back on the back two legs. You’re about to tell him off, when Kiara appears out of nowhere to shove his chair back into a regular position. She looks a little confused at seeing JJ hanging out with you and your sister, but she doesn’t look shocked. “I told you not to do that, JJ. It scuffs the floors,” she huffs impatiently at him, before turning to the other side of the table where you sat by chick.

Before she could say anything, you realized this was probably your best opportunity to try and mend the fence you had smashed through with Sarah. “Hey Kie, do you think we could talk?” You asked her timidly. For a second you were afraid she was going to tell you to fuck off, but her eyes flickered towards Chick and she must have thought swearing in front of a thirteen year old wasn’t a good look.

“What about Chick?” Was all she asked, causing you to pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked at JJ. The corner of his mouth upturned a little as he shrugged and said he could handle your sister for a few minutes. She threw a French fry at him for that and shooed you and Kie off.

Kie didn’t bother taking off her apron, leading you out to the back alley before turning to you sharply, “You wanted to talk? So talk.”

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For how I’ve acted this week and… how I acted before. I’m so sorry that I just followed Sarah instead of trying to stick up for you. It’s just she’s been my best friend since birth and I was scared to lose her, which is really stupid because I ended up losing her anyway-“

“It was really shitty of you,” Kie admitted, looking you in the eye, “I thought we were friends and you dropped me like I was last year’s Gucci or something.”

“I know, and you don’t know how badly I’ve regretted not sticking up for you. You were just like such a good person and such a good friend and I really did you wrong,” you think she’s starting to break a little, her eyes have softened and she’s almost got a smile on her face. “Seriously, Kie, I’m so so sorry –“

Kie cut off your rambling by throwing her arms around you, surprising you completely. “I really missed you.” She pulled back to look at you in the eyes, “but if you ever do me like that again I won’t be so forgiving next time.” You laugh and hug her back tightly, promising her you won’t hurt her again.

“About that stuff you said about your parents…” she awkwardly trails off, but you just shrug a shoulder at her as if to say ‘what are you gonna do’. “Just, I’m sorry and I hope you know you can always come to me if it gets bad like that again.”

“I will,” you promise, before linking arms with her and leading her back to the table where surprisingly JJ hasn’t done anything too stupid in Chick’s presence. The four of you split the French fries on the table, laughing the afternoon away and it all feels… so normal. The empty feeling in your chest is replaced with a feeling of warmth spreading through your bones.

You’re sitting around a fire with the pogues as a boneyard party rages on around you. Despite their initial misgivings about the Kook Princess, and your initial underlying resentment towards them for being good enough for Sarah when you weren’t, they’re nice to you. Welcoming, even. You wouldn’t call it friendship, despite hashing it out with Sarah and Kie, you’re not naïve enough to think a few conversations make you one of them. But the lack of the term princess being spoken aloud is a start.

As you tip your head back and empty the last few drops of your red solo cup, you see Sarah’s eyes flicker to you. She thinks she’s being subtle, but you’ve never known any Cameron, even one with pogue instincts, to be subtle. Sarah is more bull in the china shop than discrete. You know she hasn’t really been drinking tonight, nursing the same cup for over half an hour at this point. You feel a little bad that she’s not enjoying all that a boneyard party has to offer, but there’s another feeling in your chest that you can only describe as “the warm and fuzzies”. Knowing that Sarah is going to do anything she can to show you that she still cares about you is touching.

“I’m gonna go grab a refill, does anyone want?” You offer the group.

“Do you want anyone to go with you?” Sarah asks, she figures she can’t offer to go with you or you might notice her still full cup. You watch her not so subtly look in JJ’s direction, but he’s got his eyes cast out towards the sea, watching the waves crash onto the shore.

“I’ll be fine, Sarah. The keg is just right there,” you point with your now empty cup. “I’ll be right back.”

Carefully navigating the Boneyard is a little difficult in your current state of inebriation, but you reach the keg just fine without any major issues. The major issue shows up just when you’ve finished filling your cup from the keg and stop to take a long sip.

“Really, y/n? A pogue? A fucking pogue?” Rafe Cameron spits at you and glares, “You chose a dirty pogue over me?”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “What the fuck are you talking about? I didn’t choose anyone?”

“Oh really? Because I saw you y/n. I saw you with him.” He accuses.

“What are you talking about?” You repeat, your annoyance growing with every word that leaves his mouth.

“JJ fucking Maybank. I saw you having lunch with him and Chick.” He all but growls. Oh. That’s what he’s fucking mad about?

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You laugh humourlessly, “I bought him fucking French fries because Chick invited him to lunch after he taught her a few tricks on his surf board. Not that it matters, what I do or don’t do and who I do it with doesn’t fucking concern you!”

He pauses thoughtfully, obviously enjoying the thought that it wasn’t a date, but he can’t stop thinking about the way you were looking at JJ. The way he thought you would look at him. “I thought we had something.” He admits quietly.

“Had something?” You ask incredulously, “What the fuck Rafe, all we had was you giving me fucking cocaine and fucking me a couple of times.” You think you see a flash of guilt, but regular Rafe is back in a second.

“Right, when you let me fuck you the day after you let Topper have you, like the little slut you are.” He answers darkly. Your mouth opens in indignation. Rafe is the fucking worst. His moods are giving you whiplash, yesterday he’s telling you that he cares about you and today he’s calling you a slut? So, yeah fucking your way around Figure Eight – not your proudest moment, but you were fucking spiraling. And you know Rafe isn’t innocent, more hookups than he can probably remember. Fucking hypocrite.

You’re on him in a second, perfectly manicured nail pressed right against his chest as you yell back, “Fuck off Rafe, you have no right to say anything to me, you don’t own me!” You almost can’t control your anger, you’re practically vibrating with it.

“He can’t give you shit, you know that right?” He raises a lone eyebrow at you, taunting you with his smirk.

“I don’t want anything from you or anyone else, got it? Leave me the fuck alone.” You spin on your heel, but he grabs your wrist as you turn to go, and you audibly gasp and wince. He lets go of you immediately, before gently cradling your wrist in his large hand. His face turns red as he takes in the hand sized bruise forming around it, and you can practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves. Rafe’s moods are giving you whiplash – angry to gentle and almost caring and back to angry again.

“Did he do this?” He asks you slowly, dangerously. You resist the urge to snap your wrist back, knowing it will only bring you more pain. You look up at him, confused, so he clarifies, “Did that fucking pogue put his hands on you?” You’re stunned, JJ would never put his hands on you, in anger or otherwise. He’s just being nice to you because he can relate to your struggles with your shitty parents.

“What? No Rafe, calm down JJ didn’t touch me.” You reply, but it’s like he doesn’t hear you.

“I’ll fucking kill him, I swear to God. He put his fucking hands on you?” He lets go of your wrist in order to pull the snapback off his head and run his other hand through his hair.

“JJ. Didn’t. Touch me.” You repeat, slowly and clearly as if you can push the words into his thick, dumb skull. He opens his mouth to retaliate, but you keep going. “The only one who has ever put his hands on me in anger is you Rafe.” You wave your hand over your shoulders that he gripped so tightly they had bruised days ago. His face falls, and he reaches a hand out to you, but you shake your head. “Leave me and my friends alone.”

Maybe friends wasn’t the right word to use, but it rolled off the tongue a lot easier than ‘Sarah, her boyfriend, and her boyfriend’s friends including your old best friend and the guy he’s jealous of for no reason’. No reason because there’s absolutely nothing going on between you and JJ (although maybe you want it to) and even if there was, it doesn’t have anything to do with Rafe.

You’re holding your wrist to your chest subconsciously as you return to the pogues. Pope notices first, his high level of intelligence also lends itself toward being very observant. He elbows JJ hard, the blond turning his head to give his friend a look that practically screams ‘knock it off’. Pope does it again, before gesturing to you with his eyes.

“What happened?” Sarah asked before anyone else could.

“Nothing, I just had a little run in with your brother,” you murmur, shaking off the pain in your wrist as if to prove that you’re fine.

“What?” JJ asked, quickly standing up but you pushed him back down into a sitting position, wincing at the dull ache that resulted in your wrist.

“I’m fine,” you rolled your eyes, not really sure where this dynamic had come from, “he’s just… persistent.” JJ grumbles something about kicking Rafe’s ass, but you’re pretty sure that’s the default setting for JJ’s thoughts on Rafe.

“He’s a dick,” Pope stated matter of factly. You tapped your red solo cup to his in a cheers motion.

“You won’t hear me disagreeing.”

The rest of the night, you sit there with the pogues mind mulling over a million thoughts at once. Occasionally they try to bring you into the conversation, but you just briefly answer before settling back into your thoughts. You can’t stop thinking about the words your father called you or the feel of his hand striking your face. You also can’t stop thinking about Rafe and his moods and his possessiveness. After his confession, things make a little more sense but you still feel like you’ve got whiplash. Lastly, you think about JJ and how quickly he hopped up off the log to go defend your honour or protect you or whatever. Looking out at the dark horizon, you’re just really, really confused.

You don’t realize that JJ is thinking about you too, watching the way the flame of the fire danced across your face, contemplating the feelings he feels growing towards you.

#jj obx #jj x you #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj x y/n #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #diverdcwn writes #feel something

296 notes · View notes

konpithepuppy · 3 years

Text

[TRANSLATION: POTATO 08.2021]

7 MEN SAMURAI

Proofread by aji10647731 (Twitter)/ @janiappend

Scans not mine

Neither an English nor a Japanese native speaker

Feel free to correct me, thanks

7 MEN 侍

By your side

The people they want to tease when they're with them, and what kind of people they think do match with the other members? They are divided into 3 and had a discussion! (The interview was done on the first 10 days of June)

Kanasashi Issei Participates in Teasing Yabana?

Nakamura: All the 3 of us tease Yabanan when we want to meddle with someone, right? Even though we tease him with something unusual like, "Oh, a zombie!" He responds back, "Who is the zombie!" that's why I like teasing him (LOL).

Konno: Lately, Katsuki is also being teased. Like hiding his earphones.

Sugeta: The spring onion was put inside his bag secretly (LOL).

Nakamura: The reactions of 2 of them are great that's why they are fun to tease (LOL). Ori (Oriyama Nao) and (Iwasaki) Taisho are fun to tease too. When I Ori's nose, he will say, "Please stop it" while grinning, and that's cute (LOL). With Taisho, even though we are in a place with other people around us, when I tell him, "Be a cat," he does movements of a chubby stray cat. It isn't adorable at all though (LOL).

Sugeta: Ahaha! Rinne often teases Nasu (Yuto)-kun. When I call him," eggplant-kun (eggplant = nasu)," he responds, "It's Nasu!" (LOL). Nasu-kun's tsukkomi patterns are only few. "Yabaisu! (That's terrible)" "Chotto! (That's a little...!)" "Nasu desu! (It's "Nasu" )" Only these 3 (LOL).

Konno: I think I often tease Hiratsuka (Shoma). When everyone's trembling during the run-through of a stage play, Hiratsuka who came in first from Shounen Ninja suddenly fell flat on the floor. Since he did that much of air headedness, I couldn't help but to do a tsukkomi (LOL).

Sugeta: Aren't Shounen Ninja members full of energy overall? Even in backstage room, it feels like they go "let's play a game, let's play a game!" more than sleeping.

Nakamura: They often go to our room to play too, they are really energetic (LOL).

Konno: Bi Shounen's Ukisho (Hidaka) also often comes to our room to play, right?

Sugeta: Taisho also always comes. He says, "Rinne-kun, please give me a massage." That's why I always give his neck a massage.

Konno: On the contrary, Issei is being called by Taiko through the phone (LOL). And then, we will give instructions to Issei and he will tease Yabana.

Sugeta: It's funny because he does it in high spirit. He tells Yabana, "Come on!" (LOL).

Nakamura: He starts to say whatever he likes in the middle of teasing Yabana (LOL).

Konno: It's fun to see it, right? By they way, what kind of person do you want to be with you? I think a composed office lady matches with Reia.

Sugeta: No, isn't a girl who likes games matches him? A girl who likes games may have a quite rough expressions, but Reia matches with girls like that.

Nakamura: Certainly, a girl who communicates with game slang is nice. Like, "I did counter stop." If it's from the members, Yabana would be a nice match (LOL).

Sugeta: Well then, what kind of girl is a match with Rinne?

Konno: I want you to lead someone who is indecisive. Since you look strong (LOL).

Nakamura: Ee~ if talking about my preference, more than a muscular guy leading a girl, I want a girl who dominates. Like the guy only shows his manliness when it's important.

Sugeta: Which one is more popular? I will go with the popular one (LOL). Since Konpi wants to completely take the lead so a quiet girl matches him.

Nakamura: But that's only when they are dating, right? I think it is better to follow the lead from your partner when you marries. The person actually thinks that Konpi who pretends to lead is cute.

Konpi: Ee, but I want to lead...

Nakamura: It's fine, since the girl will make it look like that (LOL).

Sugeta: Well then, what would you do if you happen to see a girl who is really your type? Rinne will wear sunglasses and will stare at her (LOL).

Nakamura: Ahahaha! Like if it's in a restuarant, you will pretend to go to the toilet and look at her (LOL). But if that girl is really my ideal type, it's a waste if I won't meet her again so I want to be bold and talk to her.

Konno: Me too! I will sit on the chair in front of her at once and I want to talk to her (LOL).

Sugeta: No, that is definitely impossible (LOL).

Are Sasaki and Yabana dumbfounded in Motodaka's Approach?

Sasaki: The one that Motodaka wants by his side is a girl who can help him with fishing, right?

Motodaka: You mean a woman shell diver? (LOL)

Yabana: Or rather, a mermaid? But I guess it's not a great idea because you might fillet her (LOL).

Motodaka: I think it would have loads of views when you upload in YouTube, "I tried filleting my girlfriend"

Yabana: Get over it, it's scary! (LOL) On the contrary on Taiko's appearance, he is the type who wants to be relied on, so a girl who can depend on him looks great.

Sasaki: I wonder. When I go out to eat with someone, I'm bad dealing with people who can't decide on the menu.

Motodaka: Ah, I understand. On the contrary, it's impossible for me to be with someone who hurries me when I am deciding on the menu.

Yabana: At least, we know that Taiko and Daka-san (Motodaka) are not compatible (LOL). How about me?

Motodaka: For Yabana, I think someone who cares for your health is good.

Yabana: Certainly. I only eat ramen when I am left alone.

Motodaka: That's why I think a girl who can cook for you and look after you is a good match.

Sasaki: That is already as good as a mother, right? The girl who is a good match with Yabana is a mother! (LOL)

Yabana: Hey, why! (lol) *Why is it that when I am next to you two, I am always being teased...

Sasaki: Because your face says you want to be teased.

Yabana: Really? If anything, I think it is more fun to tease Konpi tho. Since he can give a proper tsukkomi.

Motodaka: Liar! Aren't you always getting ignored by Konpi?

Yabana: No no, he ignores me when we are with everyone, but if it's just the 2 of us, he gives me tsukkomi. But probably he just got no choice but to do it (LOL).

Sasaki: If we talk about someone besides from the members, I think (Yoshizawa) Shizuya-kun is also quite easy to tease.

Yabana: Really? Even though he is a senpai, that's amazing...

Sasaki: Shizuya-kun also has the face that he likes to be teased.

Motodaka: I know that feeling. I often tease Shounen Ninja's Motoki Waku. Because he always makes a face saying that he wants to be teased.

Yabana: Is it a common feature for those who are easy to tease that they have the face of looking like they want to be teased? (LOL). I think I tease Jr.SP often. I am close with them so it is easy to tease them.

Sasaki: Especially Wada (Yuki), right?

Yabana: Totally. Strangely, Wada gets teased by everyone (LOL). Well, if you went to have a meal, and the girl sitting next to you is your type, are you gonna talk to her?

Sasaki: I won't! (Immediately replied)

Yabana: That was fast (LOL). But well, if I think about reality, it is also impossible for me (LOL).

Sasaki: Because, it would be awkward if that person is a Johnny's fan by chance!

Yabana: You don't have to think so realistically (LOL). *What if you are told to talk to her?

Sasaki: Hmmm...that's probably impossible for me too. I will probably secretly tell to my friend who I am with, "Isn't that girl cute?"

Motodaka: I thought of a strategy. Since it's impossible for me to talk directly to her, I will create a situation where I can talk to her. I will pretend to be a weird guy.

Yabana: What do you mean?

Motodaka: First, I will try to sit in her table and eat as I like.

Sasaki: Huh? (LOL)

Motodaka: And then, I will tell her, "Sorry, I got it wrong! Shall I pay for it instead?" Then, it would lead to a conversation. How was it?

Yabana: Well, no, that is absolutely terrible. That has grade of 2 in communications! (LOL)

Recent Happenings

Motodaka Katsuki

My mom asked me to become a member of a large supermarket for business use. I immediately bought a huge amount of beef tongue and a pack of frozen fruits. I put frozen strawberries and pineapples in the carbonated drink instead of ice. It is delicious!

Yabana Rei

I've been working hard attending college for my credits lately. *I've been in the edge that I have to thoroughly complete my number of credits until 4th year. But, with my interview with the professor, I was told, "There's no problem with your grades."...I should be fine! (LOL)

Sugeta Rinne

I met Kitayama (Hiromitsu)-kun in the gym. I was thinking he doesn't know me but I was happy when told me, "you've become more muscular than before, right?" Then I informed him saying, *"In this one year, I am able to carry 1.5 to 2 times of the weights [I could carry before]!"

Konno Taiki

I've grown my hair! I want to go for a long hair for this year's summer. For it to be not damaged, I dry it after taking a bath and I apply hair treatments. I'm in the middle of dilemma about the hair color. If you have a hair color that you want for me to try, I want some consultation so please tell me!

Nakamura Reia

During the rehearsal for 「SUPERHEROISM 」(the play already ended), everyone surprised Taiko for his birthday. I gave him an AI speaker that can control home electronics as my gift. (Sasaki who is there next to him, "That is very convenient, it really helped me!"

Sasaki Taiko

I cleaned the house on my day off. I bought cleaning materials. I cleaned the bathtub and the toilet, and I also wanted to clean the dust under the bed so I turned the bed over and wiped the dust. Sleeping more comfortably than before in a room that was cleaned is the best!

#7 men 侍 #translation

12 notes · View notes

lettrespromises · 4 years

Text

LettresPromises informs you : you have one notification.

> Letter object : ‘La fable du crocodile et du flamant rose.’

@theastroooooworld sent a letter : ❝Hi, I hope I'm not bothering you! I really liked what you did for Mihawk and I would like to ask for a scenario in which Sir Crocodile fell in love (if it's possible with this man) with a woman s/o pirate who also has a crush on him, whom he often sees in meetings of the shichibukais. Only, the evil Doflamingo also wishes to have the reader by his side. Et sincèrement, j'ai adoré la lettre que tu m'as remise 🤭💙, 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙞 𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙘𝙞 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙚 🤪❤❞ author’s letter : ❝hello, you lovely human being! cam, you already know how sorry i am for being so late, and i apologize once more for taking so long. i do hope that this letter will make you crack a smile because i absolutely loved writing it!! sealed with a kiss, nikki. P.S: merci pour tout, t’es un ange, prends soin de toi aussi!!❞

Warnings : None, not even cursing, nothing. Genre : Fluff. Word count : 2.6K.

The aura emanating from each protagonist in this room was undoubtedly intoxicating— meaning that if a poor soul belonging to a rookie of the Marine were to step foot in the forbidden room, they would instantly bend under the invisible pressure created by the alliance of Shichibukais. In another context, and under different circumstances, the household names present in the vicinity could, metaphorically speaking, be considered as the embodiment of a guaranteed promotion if they were to be caught by the Marine all together. Unfortunately (or fortunately according to your point of view), the relationship between each Shichibukai and the Marine prevented anyone from daring to even nourish their hushed fantasies about capturing any of them for their own profit— they were pirates, they were fueled by the seven deadly sins, they had stains of blood on their hands and above all : they were untouchable. What a sweet, sweet paradox.

Some enjoyed this privileged status more than others, but amongst this group, all of them would think of the Marine each time they committed a crime— apparently, having the epitome of justice on their mind whilst accomplishing the dirtiest deeds humanity could think of made said deeds even more enjoyable as it was motivated by the impossibility of being reprimanded and thus, live a life filled by crime and sins.

But amongst their rarely mundane occupations, the Shichibukais still had to bend under the measures which came with their status, one of them being that their presence was mandatory to meetings to the top organized by the finest names of the high hierarchy of the Marine : Sengoku, Kizaru, hell, even Akainu despite his boiling hatred for pirates, the scum of Earth in his opinion.

The moments leading to the meetings were always the same — each protagonist would silently defy another one, the deafening silence squeezed between them would often hold interrogations or statements such as « what else have you accomplished since last time? », « I see I’m still superior. » or « My reputation shines the most between the two of us. » communicated through hushed laughters, a raised eyebrow or a smirk plastered upon someone’s facial expression. These moments were always both stuck in time, because of how heavy they felt, because the pressure emanating from each Shichibukai reached its apex, because the oxygen became almost rare due to the toxins lacing each word longing in the air, because of who these people were. And yet, they were your favorite moments because they were the most intriguing— an irresistible mix of passion and curiosity.

You were sitting between two of the biggest producers of this vivid aura of intimidation— Sir Crocodile on your right, and Donquixote Doflamingo on your left, in all, you cursed and blessed yourself at once for having chosen this spot. Truth be told, ‘chosen’ was an exaggeration. Allow me to tell you about this tale.

Each time a Shichibukai would enter the room, naturally, all eyes would be set on them. Judging stares, sometimes, glances which translated to « How come they are still alive? » or « Why are they still alive? » But when you stepped foot inside the meeting room, a new kind of tension spread through the room, and the two protagonists to blame both wore extravagant coats and had a sordid fascination for torture. They were gazes of envy, jealousy in its most vivid form, and silent questions hung in the air : « How come they aren’t mine yet? » Or statements like « I refuse to let this excuse of a man claim them, they are mine, and mine only. » (A statement, which, by the way, worked both in Crocodile and Doflamingo’s way.)

« My, my, my! Look at what the cat dragged in, ‘can’t say I’m complaining though, fufu. » The laughter itself was the signature of a maniac, which, needless to say, belonged to Doflamingo whose eyes were following your every move from his chair, his legs spread apart.

« Did you miss me that much since last time, Doflamingo? » You asked, as a form of rhetorical question, a fainted smile crept its way onto your face once the last syllables left your lips.

« I would be a liar if I said you didn’t occupy my mind these last few days, Y/N, and you should know how much I despise liars. » As the word ‘liar’ rolled off his tongue, his smirk faded away and instead, the emergence of a vein on his forehead was noticed as he reminisced the betrayals which stained his past.

You knew better than to interfere when Doflamingo dangerously crossed the line between moral and immoral, instead, you scanned the room to find a vacant seat to occupy. Perhaps next to Hancock? At least, you wouldn’t be bothered by the men here. Oh, but she was bound to drown you with stories regarding the man of her life, not the smartest choice. The seat next to Mihawk seemed like a good option as well, but he was not one for conversation and you would end up talking to yourself. Another choice would b—… « Y/N, I could not help but notice you were desperately looking for a seat to occupy. How convenient, the seat next to mine happens to be free. Of course, the choice is yours, I only took it upon myself to offer you the best option. » Oh, such a suave voice you could have recognized amongst a thousand voices.

This statement caused a chain reaction : your orbs were now focused on the beholder of these daring words, an amused grin stuck across your face; Doflamingo’s vein grew bigger as he caught the audacity coating Crocodile’s every word; Hancock’s palm hid a hushed laughter at the reaction of the blonde Shichibukai, Mihawk silently wished he could disappear. Enticed by his words, you start walking in his direction until a warm touch stops you in your tracks : upon closer inspection, it was a harsh grip on your wrist which belonged to Doflamingo who (now) combined both the raging vein on his forehead and his signature smirk, a duo made in hell. « Don’t be ridiculous, Crocodile-Man, Y/N knows, deep down, that I will take a way better care of them than you ever could, don’t you, lovebird? Fufufu. » And that, precisely, was the definition of ‘taunt’, a presentation of mankind’s most provoking aspects showed by Doflamingo.

Crocodile hushed his response, judging that entering Doflamingo’s mind games would the equivalent of handing him a victory he categorically refused to give him. A fit of smoke was blown, perhaps as a sign of exasperation, Crocodile was not keen on dragging this pseudo fight any longer— his hook circled around Doflamingo’s arm, and in a swift motion, your wrist was no longer the martyr of his tight hold. You couldn’t even gather enough time to bring your wrist to your chest that Crocodile’s large palm snaked around the same wrist and yanked it in his direction.

The aftermath of this motion was everything Doflamingo had once dreamt of, or rather feared in his most vivid nightmares— the sight of you, sitting on someone else’s lap. After all, wasn’t his lap welcoming? What did Crocodile have that he did not? It was infuriating, even more so because he could not seem to find the answer to this riddle, perhaps, in the worst case scenario, there was no answer in his favor and he was doomed to observe you sitting on your newfound throne. A vision of horror which made him frown and turn his smirk upside down, on the other one hand, Crocodile offered him his most victorious grin on a silver plate, a silent way to state his undisputed victory.

Crocodile’s hook was pointed in Doflamingo’s direction whilst his hand encompassed your waist— a clear and distinct switch in body language if you will : on one hand, the palm resting on your waist echoed to protection and desire to keep you closer to him, on the other one hand, the hook facing Doflamingo translated to a clear case of threat and perhaps even a way to dissuade him from tempting anything he might regret in a very soon future.

« It appears that victory is mine, wouldn’t you agree with me, Y/N? » Although Crocodile’s interrogation contained your name, it was directly targeted towards Doflamingo. « Don’t be fooled, the only person who won here is me. You’re bickering like kids while I’m getting all the attention, I can’t say I hate it. » You replied, the playful tone lacing your words matched with the grin spread across your face.

This not only signed Crocodile’s victory but also the beginning of the Shichibukai meeting, and almost every protagonist in this room had forgotten about the oh so important reunion— the distraction brought by the quarrel of hearts between Crocodile and Doflamingo seemed to have hogged all the attention of the spectators of this scene.

Sengoku made his way into the room, an intrigued expression on his face which was as clear as daylight, « Sir Crocodile, Y/N, you do realize there are other seats in this room? » he questioned, although he was wondering how the situation escalated until reaching this point. « I’m afraid it will not be necessary, Y/N has already claimed their seat themselves. » Crocodile stated, with the same ill intention to send toxic jabs in Doflamingo’s way whose vein grew bigger under the more-than-obvious indirect verbal blow. « He’s right, this isn’t too shabby. » Sengoku showed no sign of surprise whatsoever at your response, he was in a room full of the most dangerous human beings alive, what else could he expect from them?

And so the meeting went on, and on, and on. But Crocodile’s position remained still— his digits brushed against the bare skin of your arm, and from time to time, his glance would switch between your from Doflamingo’s enraged figure (who was clearly not listening one bit to anything Sengoku was saying) and yours. But whenever his orbs landed on you, Crocodile could not help but drink in your presence and admire each detail crafted by the Gods until he could remember each inch of your body with closed eyes. You were torn between paying attention to Sengoku’s formulas and battle tactics, because it was a part of your job as a Shichibukai, and let your subconsciousness take the lead and allow yourself to melt into Crocodile’s warm and intoxicating touch. Each time the brushing motions would cease, it felt like the aftermath provoked by drugs— you craved for it, you needed it, and he quickly understood the underlying orders to continue through your pleading eyes half-hidden by your lashes.

« … Thank you for attending this reunion, you’re all free to go now. » Sengoku announced to a semi-attentive crowd before leaving the room, followed by Mihawk, Jinbei, Hancock (who did not miss to send a wink your way upon leaving), Kuma and Moria. Isn’t luck a wonderful thing? Now it was only the three of us in the room.

Doflamingo stood up, to your surprise, as if he was ready to leave the room too. He dangerously reduced the space between the two of you as Crocodile brought you closer to his chest to balance the cruel lack of distance. For a few seconds, which seemed eternal, Doflamingo allowed his orbs to roam free on your figure, drinking your stance in for future memories. His genetically given long finger traced the edge of your jaw, malice fueling his every move : « I can assure you that I will see you very soon, lovebird, and this time, I won’t lose and you will be mine. Have fun while you still can, crocodile-man, fufufu! » His maniac laughter signed the end of his presence in this room, now it was only you and Crocodile.

Silence lingered for a bit, as a way to let the both of you soak in the glory or the horror, depending on your sense of perception, of the events which had taken place earlier on. You were now the sole holder of all of his attention, and being the two only protagonists in the room offered the privacy Crocodile had secretly begged for since the arrival of Doflamingo. « Say, Y/N, would you really want to be his? » He asked although he was not really asking sincerely, taking another drag of his cigar as he awaited for your answer.

You brought your thumb and index right underneath your chin to fake a sense of interrogation, but the answer had already been stuck on your mind since you laid your eyes on Crocodile : « Mhm, I wonder… I mean, Doflamingo is pretty handsome if you ask me. What do I win if I choose you? » The faked innocent tone of your voice drew a harsh contrast with the importance of the question, but oh well, he had already noticed that. « Well, first of all, he will never kiss you quite like I do. »

If it was even possible, Crocodile reduced even more the space between the two of you until your respective chests were touching, his hook was delicately applying the pressure needed on the small of your back to keep you steady. Before respecting the rules of performative language, he admired once more the traits adorning your face and that’s when he realized that none of the paintings he owned could ever compared to the masterpiece of details and panorama of shades that were your face, he just hit jackpot.

His finger lingered just where Doflamingo’s digits used to be a few seconds ago, as a way to re-claim his territory and leave his imprints for good. Amused, Crocodile concluded his journey of touches by letting his palm rest right on your cheek in a way that his fingers could meddle with your hair behind your ear. Your lids shut close in response to his touch, already anticipating the explosions of sensations which was bound to come. And there, at this very moment, the explosions were set free and turnt into a myriad of fireworks— his lips crashed against yours and everything around you felt hot : your lips, his intoxicating touch, the sparks in your belly, you felt like a living volcano caught in eruption. His lips were perfectly molding against yours, as if they were made to melt against yours, like poetry in motion, if you will. Crocodile wasted no time and deepened the kiss, tilting his head in the process, you were breathless but you were willing to give up on air if it meant you could rest your lips on his until being persuaded of seeing stars.

To your surprise, he was the one who broke the kiss— don’t be fooled, his lungs hadn’t failed him yet, he was just dying to see your face contorted under the desire for more lingering touches and kisses. He couldn’t help but allow a chuckle to break free from his lips at the sight he was waiting for, or rather, the sight which confirmed his thoughts. « I shall take it as you belong to me now, and I’m positive you do not see anything wrong with this, my treasure. » And he concluded his sentence with yet another kiss planted on your lips, he was finally at peace with his feelings, knowing he had you now.

Moral of the story : never linger on an uncharted territory for too long while claiming loud and proud that you want to make this territory yours, the crocodile will always strike first.

#crocodile x reader #one piece x reader #sir crocodile x reader #one piece #one piece imagines #op #op imagines #one piece fluff #one piece hcs #op headcanons #op fics #one piece fic #sir crocodile #crocodile op #crocodile imagine

126 notes · View notes

everlarkficexchange · 4 years

Text

A Simple Choice

Written by: @justajjfan

Beta’d by: @sunsetsrmydreams

Prompt 83: Katniss is whipped instead of Gale in Catching Fire, Peeta’s the one who’s there to take care of her after. [submitted by anonymous].

Prompt 116: Peeta braids Katniss’ hair to soothe her. [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: Mature

Warning: Mention of whipping

A/N: My plan is to post each chapter (7 in all) daily so thank you @everlarkficexchange ; @javistg and @xerxia31 for always being so accommodating and generous with your time. A special thank you to my beta and bestie @sunsetsrmydreams.

~~~

Chapter 2

Dad and I make a great team working harmoniously alongside each other and it’s not hard to notice the difference in him in the short space of time. He seems less pressured and the warm smile I remembered as a small boy has returned. Whether in the kitchen or serving customers, I’ve realised just how connected I am to this place.

I delight in friendly conversation but avoid answering any questions relating to The Hunger Games which most of our customers respect. What I enjoy doing the most is preparing for the morning ahead and kneading fresh bread dough in the back room has become a tranquil sort of therapy for me.

In the mindless quiet, I can block everything out giving me time to sort the shiny stuff in my head until I’m left with what’s real. This might not be a proven method of mind-therapy, but it works for me most of the time by sifting through all my cluttered thoughts so I can make better decisions for me and my future.

And I need that now more than ever.

Mother, in her usual meddling ways was quick to invite the Cartwright family to dinner and insisted Delly and I go out for a walk alone to get to know each other. As it turned out, she’s good company and I enjoy having someone to talk to, although she does most of the talking herself.

Now we meet almost every evening.

Delly’s a nice girl, just like mother said and I know I need to start thinking about a lot of things especially my future, but she keeps hinting at speeding up our friendship and I don’t think committing myself to her in that way is something I’m ready for.

In the few weeks Delly and I have been seeing each other, things have moved rather quickly from our casual walks after dinner. She’s pretty and sweet but I’m only fooling myself into thinking I could ever let another claim my heart.

Each time our lips meet, I close my eyes tight and imagine it’s someone else I’m kissing. I feel awful but I just can’t stop imagining grey eyes and a dark braid.

I’ve tried talking to Delly, suggest we slow things down and just get to know each other as friends, but she makes a habit of changing the subject at the slightest hint.

Far from being pure and the shy girl my mother claims her to be, Delly has on more than one occasion, suggested we move up from chaste kisses under the moonlight to something more intimate. Her hands always seem to wander, telling me how good she can make me feel once I let go of my inhibitions. But each time she brushes her fingers against my belt buckle, I quickly step away and end the night abruptly with my ‘it’s getting late’ excuse and walk a very disappointed Delly home.

Any normal hot-blooded male would have easily jumped at the invitation and I can almost hear my brothers smart arse remarks telling me what an idiot I am and saying something crude like ‘try before you buy’ or ‘never look a gift horse in the mouth’, but I can’t bring myself to do that. I always imagined my first time would be meaningful, not just some frivolous teenage romp at the slag heap.

Maybe I am a complete idiot.

***

Hoping to gain some reprieve from the mounting list of questions in my head today, I busy myself by preparing the rest of the dry ingredients for another batch of baking but the unusual noise level coming from outside is becoming a distraction.

When I hear raised and panicked voices, I wipe my hands on my flour-dusted apron before covering everything on the bench with a clean cloth and head towards the shop front.

Walking through the swinging doors, curious to see what all the commotion is about, I see my parents peering out the shop front window speaking in hushed tones and so engrossed with what’s happening outside, they haven’t even noticed me entering the room.

“What’s going on out there?” I ask, and they both startle at my words.

Dad turns to me first, his face noticeably pale and pauses to swallow before speaking, “Jake Blacksmith came by a minute ago and he…umm…said Head Peacekeeper Thread has ordered everyone out to the square,” he answers, taking a quick glance towards my mother who stands stoically and uncharacteristically silent.

“Thread is claiming he caught a traitor trying to sneak back into the district to spy for the rebels. The punishment has been set at fifty lashes,” dad finishes with a harder swallow and a noticeable sheen of sweat covering his forehead.

The image of Thread using his whip to tear into flesh from the back of some poor citizen while everyone in Twelve is expected to bear witness to his cruel and barbaric form of corporal punishment, sends a cold shiver up my spine.

Since he’s arrival, our new Head Peacekeeper was quick to impose strict laws forbidding practically everything his predecessor Harvey Cray conveniently overlooked…for a price. Now, anyone caught disobeying these laws usually find themselves tied to the newly-erected wooden post in the town square without trial or appeal and the punishment is always the same.

Being flogged within an inch of your life is Thread’s answer to law and order and the brute even insists on inflicting every lash on his unfortunate captives himself.

The first citizen of Twelve to feel the sting from the Head Peacekeeper’s cat o’ nine tails was Zed Palmer, a tailor with no male heirs to take over his business. That, along with severe arthritis in his hands meant he could no longer work to pay the hefty taxes now enforced and those who witnessed the flogging were grateful Zed was dead well before his fifty lashes was reached. Most disturbing was Thread not being satisfied until the last lash was counted.

I hope whoever this unfortunate citizen is, their suffering too will end long before the count to fifty is reached.

I move closer to the door and watch mother step out onto the street to join Delly and her parents who are in deep conversation while more people leave their shops and head towards the town square in hurried steps.

“A traitor?” I huff and shake my head in disbelief as I watch Merchants lock their shop front doors obeying Thread’s authoritarian command. “I doubt anyone in their right mind would want to come back if they had the chance at freedom,” I tell dad. “They should have kept running as far away from here and never looked back,” I add, expecting him to agree with me but he stares into the distance and offers nothing in response.

A moment of awkward silence falls between the two of us and the strange look on dad’s face gives me pause, but I let the weird feeling pass. As I turn to step back into the kitchen and carry on with my work, he speaks in an afterthought manner, “must’ve had a good reason to risk it all,” he says looking at me strangely, but I don’t say anything and give him a nod acknowledging his comment at least. Still, it doesn’t alter my way of thinking. If there was a choice between freedom or here…?

No…nothing would be worth it.

I take another glance outside at the passing townsfolk all walking in the same direction towards the town square like a herd of frightened sheep. But my attention is more centred on mother who stepped outside to speak with the Cartwrights and are conversing in lowered voices, sending the odd stare my way.

That cold shiver I was feeling earlier returns and it runs through me like ice.

I wave politely to the Cartwrights, but they ignore my friendly gesture and after a few brief seconds decide to join the rest of the Merchant population gathering in the town square.

What could be more horrid than being forced to witness a fellow citizen of Twelve…or anyone for that matter, whipped to a pulp?

I try to block the image from my thoughts. I’ve seen enough horrors to last me a lifetime and I’m a little disappointed Delly’s parents seem eager to join the growing crowd.

Delly gives me a half-smile as she continues to speak with my mother and the looks I’m receiving from them both increases my uneasiness.

I can’t shake this feeling of dread and turn back to dad who’s staring out in the distance, his facial expression looking lost. “Something isn’t right,” I mutter under my breath, and even though I spoke in a hushed tone, I know dad heard me.

“What is it you’re not telling me?” I ask, knowing if anyone is going to give me a truthful answer, it will be him. Dad’s straightens his back and shoulders almost immediately and when his eyes meet mine, his chin begins to tremble.

“Dad?” I ask, holding in a shaky breath.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, dad looks away from me and gives my question a moment’s pause before nodding, almost as though he’s giving himself permission to speak.

“Jake said Katniss disappeared with her family and the Hawthorne’s a couple of days ago and everyone thought they’d escaped to the woods to join up with the rebels, but she was caught trying to sneak back in this morning…alone. She’s tied to the whipping post. Fifty lashes.”

I stand dumbstruck. This can’t be true.

“No…Jake’s mistaken! He must’ve heard wrong!”

The curtains in Katniss’s room have been drawn for two days now and I haven’t heard her scream out in the night. I just assumed she and Gale—

I clear that image from my mind as I try to process everything in my head and look out to see my mother shouting at dad to shut up and what a worthless idiot he is while Delly stands in silence, watching me.

Over my mother’s angry and verbal abuse, dad continues to speak, “I wished to God he was wrong but Jake saw Katniss being dragged up on the wooden platform and I have no reason to doubt him. He’s a good, hard-working honest man and wouldn’t make something like this up.”

This I know to be true.

Dad reaches his hand to my shoulder, but I don’t feel the touch as the world around me starts to spin and I feel like I’m about to pass out. I’m so caught in a daze I don’t even know if I’m still breathing or if my heart is beating at this point. How I managed to step outside without tripping over my own feet is beyond me.

I need to get to her.

Delly breaks her silent stare and rushes towards me with a look of determination on her face and reaches her hand out to try and stop me, “she’s not worth risking your own life Peeta…think about us!” she pleads, and her words hit me like a ton of bricks.

Us?

Was it her intention to keep me from knowing what was happening to Katniss until it was all over? Is that what they were all trying to do? I can understand my mother wanting to keep me from rushing to Katniss…but Delly?

I brush past Delly ignoring her pleas to stop. I can’t even bring myself to look at her right now and only get a few steps away before mother is in front of me, grabbing a firm hold of my arm and blocking me from running to the square.

“Let go of me!” I say through gritted teeth, as anger starts to build up inside me.

“You’ll kill us all by drawing attention to yourself and for what? She’s nothing but Seam trash!” My blood boils and just like Delly’s words, I don’t let the venom spilling from mother’s mouth stop me from getting to Katniss.

Mother wouldn’t understand…nobody would. Despite everything, I made a promise to protect Katniss and I know she’d do the same for me.

“I forbid you to go! Your future is with Delly not that dirty whore in the square getting exactly what she deserves!” she yells but I yank my arm away from her tight grip.

“My future is not for you or anyone else to decide…it’s mine!” I shout defiantly.

“You’re a fool! She’s as good as dead already!” I hear mother yell as I run towards the square.

***

I silently curse my legs for failing to get me to the square any faster and when I finally reach the cobble-stoned ground, I’m feeling ragged and short of breath.

Crack!

Don’t let it be her! Don’t let it be her! I repeat those words over in my head as I try to catch my breath and refill my lungs with much needed air.

Crack!

I hurry my steps…breath be damned and as I approach the sea of faceless people both Seam and Merchant standing side by side to watch the sickening spectacle, I begin to push my way through.

Hands reach out to stop me and I hear their gasps and pleading whispers not to venture any further, but I need to see with my own eyes.

Crack!

I feel my blood drain from my body, but I continue to edge my way closer to the wooden platform and as I do, my legs begin to weaken as soon as I reach the first step. Climbing the next two seems like I’m moving in slow-motion and when my eyes lock on the gruesome sight before me, I cry out her name in a pathetic wail.

“Katniss!”

What has he done to you?

My heart plummets at the sight of her limp body, hanging like a piece of butchered meat. Her hands are bound together by a thick piece of rope tied to a large hook above her head. Katniss’ braid is messy and mattered with loose and bloodied strands of hair covering her bruised face and when my eyes look closer to her bare back, rage envelops and I almost lose what little is left of my self-control.

The shirt Katniss wore has been ripped in half exposing the upper part of her petite frame including her breasts for all to see. The raised marks and torn flesh from the countless number of lashes she’s already received, seeps with so much blood I swallow back the bile rising from my throat.

I was too late to save her.

My eyes well up from tears rolling down my cheeks and I gasp for breath between my uncontrollable sobs. I shut my eyes tight praying this is a horrible nightmare and I’ll wake up in my bed, walk the usual steps to my window and see her alive and pacing about in her bedroom. But when I open them again, there’s no mistake.

This nightmare is real.

I feel my legs start to buckle from beneath me and I slowly kneel to the ground to stop myself from falling. I don’t know how to fix this…what can I do? She shouldn’t be here. Dad said she ran away.

Why did she come back?

Endless questions whirl around my head consuming me along with the grief and the realisation I’ll have to live the rest of my worthless life knowing I failed in my promise to keep Katniss safe.

Loud voices bring me back to the now just in time to see Thread’s arm raised, poised and ready to inflict another lash to her lifeless body.

Even in my grief-stricken state, the feeling of deep loss and sorrow is overtaken by a sudden rush of strength and courage from within and it propels my body forward to block Thread and his whip from finding their mark.

‘No!” I cry out. This Capitol brute will have to go through my dead body first before I let him touch her again.

“Well, well, well…who do we have here?” Head Peacekeeper Thread remarks loudly and when I look up, I see him grinning with mutt-like eyes staring down at me.

“Looks like this traitor scum has a bedfellow eager to play white knight. She must have some hidden talents worth risking your life for,” he suggests crudely, wiping the sweat and blood from his face with the palm of his hands…Katniss’ blood.

The distinct sound of Peacekeepers heavy tread come barrelling towards me, then hands roughly try to pry me from where I lay clinging to Katniss.

“Can’t you see she’s dead!” I yell, shoving their hands away to stop them from breaking my protective hold over her body. “She’s been punished enough. What more do you want from her?” I shout to the point of hysteria, not caring if my question will be answered with a lash to my back or a bullet to my brain.

“It’s the other Victor, Peeta Mellark, sir,” a voice I recognise answers from behind me. My eyes dart slightly to the left and even through the darkened visor of his white peacekeeper’s helmet, I know it’s Darius Jackson, one of a dozen or so decent soldiers stationed here in Twelve, clearing his throat and standing at attention.

“He’s also the youngest son of the town baker, sir,” he adds.

Head Peacekeeper Thread storms over to Darius and barks out a chilling warning, “you speak one more time without my permission Corporal Jackson, and I will take great pleasure in cutting out your tongue and feeding it to the jabberjays. Do I make myself clear?” Thread emphasises loudly.

“Yessir!” Darius is quick to respond as he stands at attention.

“Now I don’t care who he is, get him off this platform! I’ll deal with the gallant knight once I’m done here,” Thread orders and Darius obeys, saluting him first before stepping towards me with his head lowered.

“He can help you keep count while he waits his turn,” Thread adds coldly, as he inspects the leather handle of is whip.

Keep count?

I have no idea how many lashes Katniss received before I got here and the thought of counting them down much less being forced to watch helplessly as Thread carries on with her punishment is more than I choose to bear.

I jostle with Darius and the other two peacekeepers who stepped forward to help him pull me away from her body. It takes all three peacekeepers to overpower me and pry my hands away forcing me to separate from Katniss.

Weakened by my struggles and overtaken by grief, they drag me away and all I can do is cry out and tell Katniss how sorry I wasn’t here to protect her and that I’ll always love her. Just as those words leave my lips she moves and moans in pain.

She’s alive!

“Stop! Please! I’ll take the rest of her punishment!” I scream, finding a new source of strength and scuffle myself free from the heavy-handed grips of the peacekeepers.

“Whatever you think she did…whatever the count, I volunteer to take them all. Just let her go!” I demand and as my words ring out, loud murmurs coming from the crowd distract Thread for a moment before turning his attention back to me.

“How very noble of you,” Thread snickers. “But your request is denied. This runaway whore was sent here by the rebels and she refuses to disclose her mission and the whereabouts of her leader’s hideout. Now move knight!” he commands, and when I don’t budge he raises his arm and I instinctively throw myself over Katniss to shield her and the pain is instant.

Crack!

The pointed leather straps strike my shoulder blade before I have a chance to brace myself for the blow. Even against the fabric of my shirt, the lash rips through the worn calico barrier as if it were made of paper. My skin underneath feels like I’ve been stung by a nest full of tracker jackers…but I don’t budge.

With clenched fists I try to ignore the painful stinging sensation and the warm, watery feeling that is probably my blood trickling down my shoulder and stay on top of Katniss’ body to block Thread from getting to her.

“She doesn’t know anything! She’s not a rebel spy!” I yell at the top of my voice, pleading with Thread to stop but when I hear the distinctive cocking of his pistol I know my desperate pleas are about to be silenced with a bullet.

“You’ve tried my patience long enough knight. Obstructing a Peacekeeper from carrying out his duty and interfering with a prisoner’s sentence is punishable by death and you are guilty as charged!” Thread bellows and the gasps and murmurs of discontent from the crowd grows louder.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” an all too familiar voice shouts out from amongst the crowd and I’ve never been happier to hear his gruff tone.

Daring to look, I see Haymitch with hands raised, step up to the platform and inch his way closer to me and Katniss. If he is disturbed by what he sees, he doesn’t show it and keeps his eyes pinned on the Head Peacekeeper.

It takes Thread a split second to shift his pistol from the direction of my head, to our mentor’s instead and I’m holding onto my breath in trepidation of what may happen next.

Katniss murmurs something then moans in pain from her bloodied wounds as she tries to move and my attention falls back on her. But all I can do is gently stroke the only place I know Thread’s lashes haven’t ravaged.

With shaking hands, I stroke her hair and push a few loose strands away from her face before bringing my lips to her ears to hush her, “shush…it’s going to be okay. I won’t let him touch you again,” I whisper, hoping she can hear me. My only focus now is calming her as best I can so I start to comb my fingers through her hair while silently praying Haymitch can get us out of this hellish mess.

“I don’t think President Snow is going be too pleased when he hears what you’ve done to one of his newest Victors,” he tells Thread who keeps his pistol aimed at Haymitch’s head.

“Stripping you of your command would be my first guess. I’ll let you do the math as to what my second guess would be?”

Whatever game Haymitch is playing at to set us free better work because right now, I’m not feeling confident as he stares down the barrel of Thread’s pistol.

The Head Peacekeeper lowers his weapon just long enough to grab Haymitch by his jacket, bringing his face so close to Haymitch and of all the things to cross my mind at this crucial point, I’m wondering if he can smell the alcohol on our mentor’s breath.

“My allegiance is to General Maximus Jackson and I answer only to him not that old fool in the Capitol,” Thread informs him, then shoves Haymitch back raising his pistol towards his head again.

Haymitch unperturbed, regains his footing and straightens his jacket, “oh, so Maxy Jackson is your boss? Well, it’s a small world after all,” he remarks flippantly.

“Your General and I are old drinking buddies and we go way…way back. I’m sure he won’t be too thrilled when he finds out you’ve whipped a Victor within an inch of her life,” he quips to Thread who glares at him with displeasure in his eyes.

“Now who do you suppose Maxy reports to…huh?” he pauses just long enough to take a breath and when Thread isn’t forthcoming with the obvious answer, Haymitch supplies it for him.

“I’m gonna take it you’re still working it out in your head but let me help you out here. President Coriolanus Snow…that’s who. He’s probably watching us from the Capitol. Eyes and ears everywhere you know,” he says, waving his hand randomly about the square.

Thread takes a quick look around the square then turns his attention back to our mentor, “my men caught her sneaking under the fence. She’s a rebel spy!” Thread yells but Haymitch is quick to respond to his preposterous accusation.

“Katniss Everdeen may be a lot of things but a rebel spy isn’t one of them! Everyone around here knows she hunts outside the perimeter for wild game…technically illegal yes, but she’s done so out of necessity to help feed her family. She sells whatever’s left at the hob, which you and your peacekeepers seem to have overlooked while enjoying the fruits of her labour with the fresh meat you buy to fill your own stomachs,” Haymitch reminds Thread, and I hear voices from the crowd bravely agreeing with our mentor.

“We all know you’re a smart man, but have you taken a moment to think what the consequences you alone as Head Peacekeeper will be expected to pay if you kill Snow’s Victors, not to mention how all this will impact on our mutual friend, the General? I think the best thing you can do for yourself right now is to let them both go and pray the girl doesn’t die from her injuries,” Haymitch strongly advises.

Silence fills the square as the crowd hold their collective breaths and wait for Thread to react and just when I think all hope is lost, Haymitch gives it one last-ditched effort to free us.

“The President had Cray removed…permanently, what makes you think he won’t do the same to you?”

The colour on Thread’s face turns a scorching red but he tries to remain unaffected by Haymitch’s comment. No matter who gave the order, Cray was relieved of his command the day Thread and the new troop of peacekeepers under his command drove into Twelve in their heavy-armoured combat vehicles.

Cray’s disappearance is a grim reminder of the absolute power President Snow holds over every citizen including his peacekeepers.

No one is safe…not even a Head Peacekeeper.

The silent tension is immediately broken when a peacekeeper rushes up to the platform, panting heavily and carrying a radio transmitter device. He salutes nervously first then informs Thread that General Jackson is on the other end wanting to speak with him without delay.

Thread snatches the device from the out-of-breath peacekeeper’s hand and strides to the corner of the wooden platform. Even from this short distance, his General’s voice can be heard shouting from the other end of the device. After a much one-sided conversation, it ends in less than a minute.

The order for everyone, including us to clear the square, is bellowed out before Thread marches off the platform and into his armoured vehicle where it speeds back towards the peacekeepers barracks.

I untied Katniss’ hands from the large hook the moment Thread finished barking out his order and when she flops into my arms and begins to whimper, my first thought is to cover her half-naked body with my apron which starts to blot with blood.

There’s no time to waste and with Katniss safely in my arms, I start to make my way off the platform in long even strides. Haymitch is there to guide me carefully down the steps before we make our way through the gathered crowd who strangely offer me sympathetic looks as they move to the side giving me a clear path.

This in itself is a strange occurrence but I don’t have time to analyse. There are some things I want to ask Haymitch but before I get a chance to open my mouth, he’s in my ear.

“That sadistic bastard! Thankfully for us Thread’s not too bright,” Haymitch claims. “Now listen to me very carefully boy and don’t ask questions…there’s not much time,” he begins, looking cautiously over his shoulders.

“I could wring that hot-head Hawthorne’s neck. He knew sweetheart would never leave without—” he stops mid-sentence, clearing his throat. “Nevermind…none of that’s important right now,” he adds and although our mentor is talking in riddles, one thought sticks in the forefront of my mind.

If Gale Hawthorne was responsible for this in anyway and by some slim chance we cross paths in the near future…he’s a dead man.

“Take Katniss back to your house and stay there until I come for you both,” I go to protest, not exactly sure why I think it would be a bad idea, but Haymitch speaks again before I have a chance to utter a word.

“Don’t argue with me! Things are going to move quick from here on end, and I need you both ready and in the one place when all hell breaks loose. Just stay alert!” he emphasises strongly. “Your house is the safest place for both of you…no listening bugs there, I’ve made sure.”

Be ready; stay alert; no bugs; when what happens? I don’t have a clue what any of that means and maybe it’s best I don’t…for now.

What little he does tell me, I already figured out for myself. Without Katniss’ healer mother and sister Primrose, who escaped along with the Hawthorne family, there’s isn’t anyone in Twelve qualified to attend to her wounds, but when Haymitch mentions sending someone he thinks could help, I’m quick to refuse the offer.

I won’t let a stranger near her.

“No! I’ll take care of Katniss myself,” I interject. “I know you have connections in the black-market, and I don’t mean Ripper. She’ll need the right kind of medicine and I’ll pay double whatever the going rate is…more if need be. Tell them to name their price and I’ll pay it! Just bring me everything you can lay your hands on, anything to fight infection and something strong for the pain,” I instruct with urgency as we make our way out of the square.

I may not be a healer, but I know the basics and keeping wounds clean is the first step to healing. That much I learnt from Katniss.

Haymitch taps me on the shoulder and I wince, my body reminding me of the single lash I received from Thread trying to protect Katniss.

“Keep your money boy. I’ll get you everything sweetheart needs and if she lives through this, it will be a bloody miracle,” he says before hurrying off, and the insides of my stomach twists with his response.

She has to live.

#Springtime Edition 2020 #submission #justajjfan #prompt 83

58 notes · View notes

libertineangel · 3 years

Text

"Some wine, Madach?" Viscount Hastien offered.

"I'd prefer tea, thank you," Captal Madach answered, waving his hand slightly, "I don't like to drink on business."

"Of course, best to keep the mind sharp on such occasions," Hastien replied with a thin smile. He retrieved a small bell from the underside of the great dining table they were sat at, rang it clearly and then spoke directly to it, requesting a pot of rose tea and two cups befitting the honoured guest's station. Noticing Madach's curiosity, he smiled again.

"Convenient, isn't it? A gift from a mage I gave some assistance to some months ago, its twin in the kitchen repeats anything said to it after it's rung."

A moment later, Delam arrived with a silver platter bearing a delicately-painted porcelain teapot and two matching teacups.

"Very good - hold, I didn't think we had any Dunmer among the serving staff. What's your name, when did you join here?" Hastien's eyes narrowed.

"Hlenil, sir," replied Delam, his voice quiet and his head low, "I've been kitchen staff for a month but the evening drinks server's absent tonight, I hear they came down with a fever."

"Very well, as long as you can pour without spilling. Don't keep the good Captal waiting, nor myself, and remain in the serving-space until you’re required.” Delam nodded, then set the two cups and filled them both before retreating to the small alcove in the wall behind the table.

“I hope it’s to your liking,” Hastien remarked after they’d both taken their first sips.

“Indeed, you run your kitchen well.”

“Thank you.” Hastien paused a moment, cleared his throat and took a slow, deep breath. “Now, returning to our previous discussion – I really would suggest you consider my offer a little more seriously. It’s in both our best interests, yours more than mine even, I’d wager, and I don’t see what harm it could do you.”

“You’ve made your case well, I assure you, but I’m afraid under the current terms my decision is final,” Madach replied, his voice still friendly enough but with a subtle edge. “I think you overestimate the likelihood of an alliance in Daenia, even a tenuous one, and to be frank I think you underestimate my ability to hold my own. I’ll concede that you have the greater numbers, the wealth too, but my land is better-situated than yours, and my marshal is a formidable commander.

“Oh, you don’t need to convince me of the strength of your land, I’m well aware of that, you’re likely the best-positioned in southern Urvaius, but even Tiber Septim couldn’t defend a mountain fort if he fought an army alone, and you said it yourself, you don’t have the soldiers.”

“Perhaps not if the Daenian lords really do align, but unless you’ve heard rumours the rest of us haven’t, I’m content to trust that their attention will stay in the southwest like it always has.” Madach felt impatience creep into his voice, so he paused a moment before continuing, “if anything, I’d be more concerned about a potential alliance to our north.”

“Oh really?” This worried Hastien, and he took a drink to try and distract from his blinking in surprise. “Well that’s certainly news to me, and I’d have thought word would reach me first, of the two of us.”

“Well, I do have a few good ears in the right places,” Madach said as he sat back a little and allowed himself a slight smile, thinking his gambit successful, taking a drink himself.

“Of course, you can’t expect me to propose a fresh agreement on that alone – after all, I think we’ve well-established these things aren’t to be signed on hearsay,” Hastien chuckled a little, but the tension in his voice undermined it.

“No, of course not,” Madach smiled a little more. “These things are determined by the hard facts, and as such I think you’ll find this one interesting,” and from his waistcoat he retrieved a small medallion, emblazoned on one side with a coat of arms, and placed it on the table before them. “A token from Marchioness Armene in Anticlere, we have an agreement already in place.” He drank some more, keenly observing the reaction.

“I see,” Hastien replied, keeping his voice carefully even. “I’m impressed, she’s far from easy to bargain with, especially for those of less well-off holdings.”

“I have my ways, Viscount, and I trust you understand a little better my self-confidence.”

This remark struck Hastien as somewhat arrogant, and his indignation shook off some of his concern.

“Perhaps, but unless your agreement with the Marchioness involves a loan of her army or the contents of her treasury I think you still have rather more faith than I would in your position. I never thought my proposal charity, Captal, but I think you’re in greater need of support than you realise.”

“And why is that, Viscount? Do you know of a threat bearing down upon me, perhaps an assassin under my nose, a siege upon my keep while I’m here negotiating? I hope it’s not more simple rumours.”

“Of course not, it’s-” Hastien paused and took a breath, regretting his choice of words. “You are new to this game, Madach, and I am not. I can spot a tenuous position, and I see one in yours, and if I were you I would remain a little more humble.”

“I’m aware of your experience, Viscount, don’t think me so foolish as to dismiss it, but I came here for a negotiation, not a lesson in statecraft, and your attempts to scare me are futile. If my position is so tenuous, why not strike me yourself, be rid of a competitor and gain stronger ground?”

“I have my reasons,” Hastien replied curtly, “just as I have my reasons for the proposal I invited you here to discuss.” He took a drink before continuing. “I know you’re no fool, and I know you’re not helpless, were you either we wouldn’t be having this discussion. Let me then propose a revised set of terms, ones I think you’ll find more agreeable.”

Delam refilled the teacups, and listened intently.

#tesfest21 #delam farano #tes #the elder scrolls

5 notes · View notes

pregnant-javert · 3 years

Note

MelRuth college au if you still take asks

I had more fun with this than I was expecting? I'm not a fan of college AUs really so I just kind of expected that this would be a quick one that I wouldn't enjoy writing...but I kind of liked it a lot, actually. Under the cut <3

P.S this will be two chapters long...I will post the link to the second chap on AO3 when I finish it :)

The engineering students were a loud, odd bunch, Ruth reflected. Any time she was near their group; behind them in the lunch line; in a lecture theatre with them, being in the stands near them at a soccer game. All of them followed the same general archetype—bespectacled, nerdy guys and tanned, sporty girls. Ruth only shared one class with people from engineering—a business class—and quite frankly if she had to spend any more time with them than that, she’d lose it. Ruth preferred her friends in the hotel management course she was doing—they were quiet, bookish, respectable people. They could hold a perfectly nice conversation without going off on wild tangents or making stupid jokes. Ruth was quite happy to spend the last year of college coasting along with the same group of people she’d always known.

Until she met Melanie Cavill.

It was completely unexpected, you understand—Ruth would never willingly spend time with someone from the engineering school—but she hadn’t had much choice in the matter. Melanie had flounced into their shared business class two minutes before it was due to start, and the only spare seat was next to Ruth.

Melanie threw her ratty backpack down underneath the foldout desk, and withdrew a laptop computer that was nearly as roughed up as her bag. “Is it alright if I sit here?” she asked, sounding out of breath. “Normally I turn up earlier.”

“You’ve already sat there, so I don’t know why you’re asking,” Ruth said.

Far from being offended, Melanie actually laughed. “You’re right. Stupid of me, yeah? I’m Melanie Cavill. Don’t think we’ve met.” She held out her hand as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Ruth returned the handshake. She wasn’t an animal, after all. The lecturer stepped up to the lectern, so Melanie didn’t say any more. They both stayed silent for an hour while the lecturer explained something about supply chain management. When the lecturer announced a break for ten minutes, Melanie immediately turned back to Ruth. “So what’s your name then?” she asked.

“Ruth Wardell.”

“What course are y’all doing? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.”

Ruth felt herself blushing; she shouldn’t have been ashamed of what she’s studying, but hotel management seemed stupid next to Melanie’s engineering. Ruth told her anyway.

“Damn, hotel management? So what, you want to own a hotel or something?”

Ruth already had a B&B waiting for her back in Kendal, but her father would only pass it down to her on condition she took this course. She wouldn’t tell Melanie this, though. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“That sounds cool,” Melanie said, and she sounded serious. “I’m only here because Wilford wants me to. Have to show up to every class or else he’ll stop paying for my college.”

“What would you rather be doing?” Ruth asked incredulously, but she was kind of interested in the answer. She wasn’t sure who this ‘Wilford’ character was either.

“I don’t know…building things, fixing things, breaking things. Not whatever this is,” she scoffed, throwing her pen onto the desk. “Supply chain management is pretty dry.”

Ruth agreed with that assessment. “You need it to run a successful business,” she said anyway.

“I don’t see the point. I don’t want to do anything like this—if I spend the rest of my life making stuff, I’ll be happy.” Melanie leaned back in her chair, which creaked ominously. “So hotels, huh? That a big ambition of yours?”

“My father owns a hotel back home. I can’t take over unless I do this course.” Ruth had no idea why she was telling Melanie this, but it wasn’t that big a secret anyway.

“Family business?”

“Yeah.”

“My parents have a dirt farm,” Melanie said. “I thought I was gonna spend the rest of my life there, fixing tractors and all that jazz. Until Wilford found me.” The way she said the last sentence sounded guarded, so Ruth didn’t ask who he was. “I like engineering, but I was never a college gal.”

The lecturer called an end to the break and launched into a monologue about their mid-semester test. Melanie whipped out a piece of refill paper and scrawled something on it, passing it to Ruth. Ruth flattened it out on the desk.

A mid semester test? This is the first I’m hearing of it >_>

Ruth fought the urge to laugh. They’d been talking about it for the past month. Either Melanie wasn’t paying attention, or she’d just forgotten.

We’ve been talking about it for a month…

I guess that’s just me, then. There’s no way I’m gonna pass—I haven’t been paying attention at all.

Ruth looked down at Melanie’s messy purple handwriting. She could have just passed the note back with some generic condolence, but something within her made her go a different route.

Study session at my place?

Damn, you serious?

Ruth didn’t write anything more. The lecture ended and everyone stood up to go. “Wait. So you want to have a study session?” Melanie asked.

“I mean…I don’t have anyone else to study with. And you seem like you could use the help.”

“That’s certainly true,” Melanie said, stuffing her laptop into her bag and zipping it closed. “Your place or mine?”

“Probably mine? It might be quieter.” Ruth had picked her dorms for its distance from the campus. It was too far away for convenient access, so the only people who stayed there were part-time students or people who wanted the quiet like she did.

“You’re right. People keep partying at mine all night. If I want to pass this test, I better actually study this time. Here’s my number. Call me,” Melanie said, then she was hustling down the rows of seats and practically sprinting out the door. Ruth slung her bag over her shoulder, making her way out of the lecture theatre at a more sedate pace. What was Melanie thinking, galumphing out of the place like a horse. Ruth looked again at the crumpled piece of paper in her hand, which had a scrawled phone number and a curly M underneath. She stuffed it in her pocket—she’d call later.

Ruth couldn’t help herself—she was a little excited by this prospect. Maybe it was time to find new friends, even if it was going to be Melanie Cavill.

Maybe Ruth’s last year was going to be more eventful than she thought.

#snowpiercer #snowpiercer tnt #snowpiercer netflix #melanie cavill #ruth wardell #ask #fic by gohoubi

8 notes · View notes

skrimcats · 5 years

Photo

Paju

Dragonborn Ysmir, the Dragon of the North Champion of Meridia Champion of Azura Nightingale of Nocturnal Master of the Thieves Guild

They were born in Riften, Skyrim. Their father, Ri’yppy, is the Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold, and their mother, Daro’ruis, was a member of the Thieves Guild. She disappeared when Paju was a child and their father became distant.

Masser

Paju and their twin sister Pujo have always been very close. Their family occasionally refers to them as “twin moons”, Paju often associated with Masser and Pujo with Secunda

Amulet of Articulation

Paju loved and admired their mother and thus they joined the Thieves Guild in order to find out what had happened to her. Daro’ruis had devoted almost her entire life to the guild and following her footsteps, Paju restored the guild to its former glory and became both a Nightingale and the Guild Master.

Thu’um

Despite their parents’ magical abilities, Paju’s magicka reservoir is almost non-existent. The only form of magic they can use effortlessly are dragon shouts. Their favorite shouts to use are:

Animal Allegiance — Makes travelling through the Rift less time and energy consuming when the bears are your friends. They also use falcons to carry out messages: letters to the family while they are adventuring and orders to the guild while they are at home.

Elemental Fury — While their magicka is low, their stamina is endless. They are always running around and they are fast at their feet, fast at shooting, fast wielding the blade, and fast at thinking. And almost unstoppable when they call wind to carry their attacks even more effortlessly.

Ice Form — They are almost always cold and so ice shouts come more naturally to them. Ice Form allows others to experience their cold hands while also allowing Paju a few precious seconds to escape.

Slow Time — They freeze the flesh, they freeze the time. Slow Time gives them extra time to aim their arrow and lessens their enemy’s time to avoid it.

Clear Skies — While the night hides them, they also love the sun and it’s warmth.

Vampirism

Paju has been a vampire twice. The first time they turned from Alva’s attack in Morthal. The second time Serana turned them so they could survive the Soul Cairn. They loathed themselves as a vampire and even after that because the cure required a black soul. Still, with Serana, they decided that life would be better for them and Paju’s family if they were mortals. Together, they sought the cure. After that, Paju offered her a new community from the Thieves Guild.

While Paju has been able to process some of the traumas and memories caused by the vampirism, they still avoid eating red meat and blood.

Chidna Mine: Paju was thrown into the jail of Markarth after unfortunate events as a vampire. They don’t really talk about that time, but it left them with a Skooma addiction (that their sister Pujo helped them to overcome) and a fear of tight underground spaces. They still keep the shiv they used to break out alone in their office’s locked coffer.

Dawnbreaker

Paju found Meridia’s Beacon from a small and remote cave when they were unknowingly becoming a vampire and weren’t feeling well either mentally or physically. As they picked up the beacon, a ray of light shone to their face through a crack in the ceiling and Paju felt like there was someone watching over them.

A day after they had returned the beacon, they became a vampire. They had already sworn to be the wielder of Meridia’s cleansing light and thus their own undeadness caused an identity crisis. They continued to use Dawnbreaker even though it burned their skin as well and they refused to drink blood, starving themself. Eventually, they no longer trusted their self control around human settlements and the pain started to become unbearable as they withered away. They had to seek a cure, even when it required sacrificing someone’s soul.

Despite the rather traumatizing events, Paju continues to believe that Meridia guards them, and Dawnbreaker lights their steps in dark and tight caverns they nowadays fear.

Letters From a Friend

Paju also believes that Meridia is the one behind the mysterious “letters from a friend” as the “friend” always seems to witness their deeds and the first one of such letters pointed them to Mount Kilkreath.

Nightingale Bow

Their mother’s old bow that Paju inherited. Daro’ruis was a legendary sniper whose every arrow was said to hit its target. Paju wanted to be like their mother in this too, but no bow seemed to fit in their hand — before this. Still, they cannot help feeling that they are unworthy of it.

Auriel’s Bow

During the years they spent seeking their mother, Paju also hoped to find their mother’s most treasured artifact: a circlet that seemed to give its wearer a magically accurate aim. They dreamed that it would aid them reach their mother’s level in archery. While searching it, Paju trained every day, completed Angi’s archery trials, and found and earned — not inherited — Auriel’s Bow. They never found the circlet, but although they do not fully realize it, they are more skilled than their mother ever was.

Nightingale Blade

Paju has one bow and one blade for dawn and day, and another ones for dusk and darkness. Through them they honor all their princes. The weapons also visualize Paju’s desire to not live contained within one of the opposites, but rather in both, neither, and in between.

Invisibility

Paju avoids killing people because of their personal morals and the convenience of leaving little as possible traces behind. That is why they have perfected the arts of stepping lightly and blending into shadows. More than that, they often literally disappear into thin air. While Paju is usually terrible with magic, at best they could switch between visible and invisible almost indefinitely. (with Shadowcloak of Nocturnal, the Shadow stone, Embrace of Shadows, and potions.

Jaska

A tame gray horse Paju found roaming Skyrim alone. He was a loyal friend until bandits killed him. The two were reunited when Paju found him again from Soul Cairn.

Tea

or infusions. After Chidna Mine and Skooma, Paju doesn’t really want to touch any addictives — including alcohol. Unfortunately, there aren’t many drinks in Skyrim that do not have alcohol in them. Fortunately, they are resourceful and after reading about the teas of Morrowind, they decided to try to brew their own.

I may write another post where I introduce more of their fave recipes because honestly they were fun to make, but their absolutely favorite is canis root and elves ear tea that is flavored with juniper berries.

Books

Paju’s library is one of the biggest in Skyrim and there is a copy of almost every book available in Skyrim. Collecting books is their passion and they are fortunate enough that their spouse, Nauris, is enthusiastic to help (even though she doesn’t really pay attention what books she brings and whether Paju already owns two of them). Paju’s career choice has also helped them to acquire rarer books that actually weren’t on sale.

More than collecting books, they enjoy reading books while relaxing at home or taking a break with them while travelling. Their favorite books are:

A Dance in Fire series

A Game at Dinner

Advances in Lockpicking

Beggar, Thief, Warrior, King series

Chance’s Folly

The Firmament

Herbalist’s Guide to Skyrim

Incident at Necrom

The Locked Room

Mystery of Talara series

Purloined Shadows

Three Thieves

Vernaccus and Bourlor

Words of Clan Mother Ahnissi

2920 series

Solstheim

After Alduin was defeated, they decided with their wife Nauris and their sister Pujo and her wife Lydia, to leave the Windstad manor they had built in Morthal and move to Raven Rock. Some born in Skyrim and other in Solstheim, with them also came the children of Paju and Nauris — Lydia (II), Jone, Jode, Ruis, Ulfric (‘Lilfrick’) — and the adopted son of Pujo and Lydia, Briar. The twins had also reconnected with their father, who retired and came with them. Together the two couples (occasionally with the help of Ri’yppy) can hopefully live in peace and rise their six children to a happier home than the twins had.

After the world was saved and the twins had found their mother, Paju felt a moment of emptiness with no pressing responsibilities. They continue to run the Thieves Guild with the help of messenger falcons and occasionally travelling to the mainland themselves. They have also started to write a biography of Daro’ruis with the help of their father, and an autobiography of the twins.

Trivia

Their name means ‘willow’

I omitted the “the last” from their Dragonborn title because in this universe they weren’t the only dragonborn. Their wife Nauris, their friend Lydia, and Pujo were all the last dragonborns simultaneously.

I tried to avoid Paju’s death while playing and while I did not succeed 100% I got relatively far. I gave them their scar after the first death (they were ambushed by bandits between Morthal and Dawnstar)

Their eyes are actually so narrow that whenever they are in combat and they squint slightly, their eyes just seem closed. They are just… so mad at mudcrabs…… they don’t want to even see them...

#khajiit #skyrim #Paju #long post #the elder scrolls #tes #the last dragonborn #ldb #more info under the cut! I tried to make photo only version but there's just so many things I want to tell #you are always free to ask more!#I wanted to do an info post for so long but uh oh it takes time and I wan't to spare those of you who are not interested from my rambles #so hopefully the read more link works!

586 notes · View notes

nayutai · 4 years

Text

Baby Don’t Move

⇢ Pairing Yunho x Female OC | Office Worker AU

⇢ Word Count 6.010

⇢ Warnings Yunho has a filthy mouth and a huge dick, oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, cursing (in general), aaaand I think that’s it

⇢ Summary Naima Yancey is ambitious and determined so her promotion at DevTech comes as no surprise to anyone. What should be a joyous moment for her is tainted. The promotion comes with a real office, more money, and a higher status, but it also comes with close proximity to the office golden boy Yunho. He gets under her skin in a way no one ever has, but she’s determined not to let this oversized menace ruin this opportunity for her. Turns out, Yunho would rather ruin her instead.

The muted ding of the elevator sounds much too joyful to Naima. Her transfer to the accounts receivable department should be marked by the sound of a death rattle or a dying elephant. A twinkling little ding only makes her even more pissed off. She glances down at the contents of the box nestled in her arms to see the brand new name plate she’d been given for her new office.

Naima Yancey

Receivables Supervisor

The youngest supervisor in DevTech history according to HR. She guesses that anyone else in her position would be excited about the transfer she’s mentally griping about. It’s not every day that someone like her gets unexpectedly promoted to a supervisory position. Naima has only been with the company for three years and apparently she’d made the most of that time. She pauses next to a sea of cubicles to scan the numbers above the offices on either side of the employees rapidly typing away at their stations. Only a few of them even bother to give her a second glance and for that Naima is incredibly grateful. She finally spots her destination, hiking the cardboard box she’s unloaded her desk into a little higher on her hip. She takes half of a step and immediately regrets every life choice that led her to this point.

“Well look who we have here. Are you lost, Ravioli?” Naima grits her teeth at that god awful nickname, swallowing the scathing retort that’s burning her throat. The deep baritone voice sounding off somewhere over her left shoulder is the cause of every ounce of the work stress she carries in her shoulders like a boulder.

Yunho Jeong. Beholder of an unfair amount of undeserved beauty and the victim in Naima’s most murderous dreams.

“You were in the staff meeting when they announced my promotion, Yunho.” She deadpans. Her skin is starting to itch from the prolonged exposure to the man in front of her. The smirk that is practically permanently etched on his face does nothing but piss her even more. She wants to smack him until it disappears.

“I’m just messing with you, Ravioli. You know that. Welcome to Receivables.” He shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans as he starts backing away. “Try not to fuck it up!” Naima can feel the thick cardboard of her box bending to the forceful clench of her fists. The weight of of nearly fifty pairs of eyes keeps the scathing remark she wants to make from bubbling up.

Fucking Yunho. Naima hasn’t even been in Receivables for an hour and she’s already doubting if the extra money is worth the headache. Okay, who is she kidding? The extra money is definitely worth it. Getting ahead of her bills had felt like the pipe dream of a wistful millennial before it had become an unexpected reality just last week. No way she lets some oversized preteen bully ruin this for her.

Naima is almost done putting her things into her new desk when the sound of an office door loudly closing disturbs her concentration. She looks up to see the source of the noise is none other than Yunho himself. All of the offices on this floor conveniently have floor to ceiling windows next to the door which allows people directly across from each other to see into the other person’s office. Naima is absolutely horrified at the implications of this as Yunho stares her down with a satisfied smirk. It’s obvious now that he slammed his door on purpose to get her attention.

“This is the worst day of my life.” Naima mumbles to herself as she does her best to ignore Yunho’s gaze burning into her forehead.

IT arrives a few tense minutes later to set up her docking station and get her started on the training modules for her new job duties. She’s taking notes on how to perform certain functions in the billing system when she receives a chat notification from her work husband Knox Rivers back in her old department.

KR: Hey wifey how’s the swanky new digs?

NY: My office is DIRECTLY across from Yunho’s office

NY: I can literally see every move he makes and he can see mine

KR: Dreamville? My treat

Naima immediately perks up at the mention of the bar down the street that has become a favorite amongst their group of friends. It’s going to take a lot to make her feel good about working in such close proximity with Satan’s hardest working demon, but a free round of drinks is a great start.

NY: I’ll meet you downstairs at 5:30

Naima nearly bursts into tears when she steps off of the elevator and spots Knox leaning seated in the lobby playing a game on his phone. She’s always thought that he looked like Thor with his long hair and athletic build and right now a superhero is exactly what she needs. A giggle bubbles up from Naima’s throat at the red stain that creeps down Knox’s throat when she sneaks up on him to kiss his cheek.

“Come on, big guy. There’s a Blue Magic with my name on it and I intend to collect my due.” Naimah declares, clapping Knox on his broad shoulders.

“Lead the way, my lady.” He holds the door open like the gentleman he is with a dramatic flourish. Naima’s heart twinges a little. She misses the days when talking to him in person required her to lean back in her chair as opposed to taking an elevator ride.

A few other people from the office are already at Dreamville when Naima and Knox arrive. They’re quickly swept up in familiar gossip and more drinks than anyone has a right to consume on a Tuesday evening. She’s engaged in a dangerous game of darts with a new employee named Xavier when a horribly familiar voice rings out above all the noise in the bar. Her head whips in the direction the voice came from, but the dart flies from her fingers anyway nearly taking some poor girl’s eye out. She yells out an apology but apparently her almost victim has had a little too much to drink herself and simply waves her off.

“Nice aim, Ravioli. An inch to the left and you would’ve scored a perfect murder.” Yunho taunts. Naima crosses her arms across her chest in indignation. Her eyes watch him intently and therefore don’t miss the way his gaze drops to get a look at her cleavage. His jaw ticks and she wants nothing more than to comment on that but Xavier interrupts by extending his hand in Yunho’s direction as he introduces himself.

“Naima, you ready to leave? I was about to call an Uber.” Knox materializes out of nowhere, phone in hand and Naima’s eyes nearly pop out of her head when she sees that it’s nearing eleven. She hadn’t realized that they’d been there for so long.

“See you tomorrow, Ravioli. Later, Knox.” She’d almost forgotten that Yunho was still here. He winks at her before he turns to walk away and, despite the fact that he can no longer see her, Naima flips him off.

Naima is still fuming nineteen minutes later when the Uber arrives. She successfully dodges Knox’s first few questions about why she’s so mad, but he eventually wears her down. She’d forgotten that Knox becomes a wannabe psychologist that likes to talk about people’s feelings after he’s had a few drinks.

“What do you have against him? You’re probably the only person at the whole company that doesn’t get along with him.” Naima rolls her eyes skyward. Yunho the golden boy is apparently loved by everyone and it makes her seethe even more. She wracks her brain for someone at the company that she can add to her side and thankfully comes up with a name.

“Fake news! Saia in purchasing called him a douche nozzle last week and I am inclined to agree.” Naima is quite pleased with herself as she settles back into the plush seating of the SUV. Her satisfaction is short lived.

“Saia doesn’t count.” Knox counters quickly. “Yunho dated her younger sister and it ended badly so that just leaves you.”

“The night before my first day at DevTech, my friends from back home came to town to celebrate and we went to this super fancy restaurant.” The red light at the intersection bathes them both in its glow which is ironic in Naima’s opinion.

She regales Knox with the store of how her friend Keyanna had bought her a ravioli entree to go so that she could have her favorite food on her first day. Yunho had snuck up on her when she was in the break room, startling her to the point that she ended up dropping a ravioli on her white button up. Of course the evil bastard had laughed about it till he could barely stand. She’d had to walk around for the rest of the day with the sauce stain on her shirt and Yunho has called her Ravioli every day since then.

“That…” Knox pauses to piece his thoughts together. “okay, yeah, I can’t say I’d be too fond of him either after that.” He admits.

“See? He’s an asshole and I hope he steps on a lego every day for the rest of his miserable life.” Their Uber driver, who had remained silent aside from the quick hello when they’d gotten in her car, snorts at the curse Naima speaks into Yunho’s life.

“You know he teases you because he probably wants to fuck you right? Men aren’t as evolved as people would like to believe.” Knox points out. Naima withdraws from him as if he just told her to go fuck herself.

“If he thinks that being an asshole will grant him access to my pearly gates then he’s a bigger idiot than I thought he was.” She and the driver exchange a high five when she chimes in with her agreement. Naima makes a mental note to make sure that Knox tips her good for being an intellectual.

A wave of exhaustion washes over Naima when their apartment complex comes into view. Thoughts of a hot shower and her fluffy pillows makes the time required to drive to their part of the complex feel like an eternity. She bids the friendly Uber driver a safe and prosperous night before all but running towards her building with a wave to Knox tossed carelessly over her shoulder as he makes his way to the building directly across from hers.

“Morning, Killer.” Yunho is way too chipper this morning especially since Naima has already had to suffer through elevator chatter about how he won a drinking contest last night. It doesn’t help that now he’s bringing up her almost homicide.

“Don’t you have something else to do? Like your job?” Yunho pretends to recoil from her remark as he follows Naima to her office. She wishes she could just haul off and smack him but that wouldn’t bode well for her professional career.

He props himself up against the wall next to her office and it’s as she unlocking her door that she registers just how close he is to her. A small shift of her weight to her right foot would push her up against his chest. Her mind drifts back to what Knox had said last night. She side eyes him cautiously before turning fully to face him head on. If anyone were to ask, Naima would blame what she does next on residual alcohol still inhibiting her rational thought.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” Yunho blinks several times in shock but he recovers quickly. He flips around to take stock of the people still filtering into the office to see if anyone is within ear shot and is seemingly satisfied by the lack of people around them.

“I never pegged you to have an exhibition kink, Ravioli.” She curses herself at the way the low timbre of his voice resonates deep in her gut. The greasy smile on his face however, makes her want to puke.

“My kinks are none of your business. I’m just trying to prove a point. Now answer the question.”

“I can only imagine what that point is, but yes, I would absolutely love to ravish you.” He leans in even closer so that she can smell the minty scent of his toothpaste when he whispers in her ear. His closeness doesn’t make her recoil in the way that she thought it would and the reasoning behind that is definitely not something she’s willing to explore.

The second she gets her laptop booted up she’s tapping out a message to Knox.

NY: Lunch on me today. We need to talk.

KR: I’m all yours at 12:30

Naima is still pondering her conversation with Knox when she steps off of the elevator to go back to her office after lunch. He seems to think that the best way to get Yunho off her back is to fuck him. According to Knox and his personal knowledge of “guy logic”, that will get her out of Yunho’s system and his annoying behavior will cease. Naima isn’t so sure about that. She’s so far inside her own head that she doesn’t even hear someone calling her name until they tap her on her shoulder. Of course, it’s Yunho. Luck is just not on her side today.

“Ravioli, you should consider getting your ears checked. I called you four times.”

“And you should consider that maybe I just don’t want to talk to you.” She replies. He makes himself comfortable in her office as she drops her purse into one of the desk drawers to jump back into her work.

“Oh, don’t be that way, Ravioli. I thought we were past this animosity thing since you practically propositioned me in the hallway.” He looks so smug as he recalls her blunder from earlier. God he’s so infuriating. Naima adds this to her running list of why men should be removed from Earth. She says nothing, choosing to simply point towards her office door. Thankfully, he’s not too dense that he can’t take a hint and returns to his own office space.

She’s settled into a steady pace with her work when her computer pings with a message. The prospect of clearing out her dashboard and possibly being able to leave early is too sweet to break her stride. Two more subsequent pings from effectively breaks her concentration.

YJ: hey

YJ: you look so cute when you’re concentrating

YJ: don’t ignore me I’m sensitive 😭

She looks through the glass into Yunho’s office to see him already staring directly at her. His head being propped up on his hands suggests that he’s been doing it for a while. He blows a kiss in her which she returns with a middle finger. She raises her computer monitors so that he’s no longer able to see her face.

Next order of business: buying blinds

Naima groans out loud when her computer pings with yet another message. At this rate she’s going to have to stay late to get everything done. She halfway expects the new message to be another annoying attempt at conversation from Yunho but thankfully this one is from someone that she actually doesn’t mind talking to.

KR: hey did you hear that Yaya bought a new house?

NY: yeah she just texted me that she’s having a bbq this weekend to celebrate the closing

KR: you going? 👀

NY: don’t ask me a stupid question like that of course I’m going

KR: lmao okay so we can split an uber then

KR: wanna leave at like 3?

NY: yeah that’s fine with me!

Naima is so happy for Saturday to finally roll around that she could cry. Yaya had told her a few things on the menu on Wednesday and her mouth has been watering ever since. Her husband is a chef at some fancy restaurant so she knows that this will be the best food she’s had in a while.

Knox and Naima are both slack-jawed at the absolute grandeur of Yaya’s house as their Uber driver comes to a stop in the center of the horseshoe shaped driveway. She’d neglected to mention that her new house is actually a castle. Naima frowns when she spots Yunho’s flashy Mercedes amongst the cars already parked in the driveway, but she’s determined to have a good time despite his presence. They follow the sound of music and splashing to the backyard to see a majority of the DevTech staff in the backyard. They’re quick to strip down to their bathing suits to join in on the chicken fight in the pool.

Naima has just sent Alexis from marketing flying off of Xavier’s shoulders when Yaya announces that it’s time to eat. It’s a race to get out of the pool as everyone is hustling for a good spot in line. Naima is cursing the god awful heaviness that plagues her every time she steps out of a pool when she hears a low whistle from behind her. It’s Yunho and his eyes are trained directly on her ass. Big surprise there.

“Yellow is definitely your color, Ravioli.” He produces a large, fluffy towel seemingly out of nowhere, offering it to her. She’s hesitant to accept it but a quick glance towards the now empty table that had once held an assload of towels changes her mind.

“I think I would look just as good on you.” Yunho smiles as if he’s just hit her with the best pick up line known to man. He’s gotten quite brazen with his flirtatious attempts ever since he’d exposed his sexual intentions on Monday.

“You talk a big game but everyone knows that overly confident men are just…” Naimah trails off with a pointed look at the front of Yunho’s jeans as she takes a sip of her lemonade. “overcompensating.”

Yunho pokes at the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he considers the woman in front of him with amusement. He revels in the way she swallows nervously when he closes the gap between them. Every breath she takes causes her barely covered chest to graze against his but, to her credit, she doesn’t back away. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but being this close to Yunho is making her blood run hot. She chooses to blame it on her primitive instincts and not actual attraction, but even she knows that’s a lie.

“Didn’t your parents teach you not to speak on things you know nothing about, Ravioli?” She can’t decide what she’s more mad at, the nickname or the insinuation that this asshole just said she’s wrong. She’s not.

“Didn’t your parents teach you not to lie?” She bristles. Yunho’s sarcastic little grin only grows in response to her anger. It’s like he gets off on making her want to wring his neck.

“Admit it, Ravioli. You want this just as much as I do.” Naima gasps when Yunho suddenly wraps an arm around her wait, jerking her to him. He leans down so that he’s speaking directly into her ear and in that moment, Naima knows she’s a goner. All these months of resisting him and he’s about to break her by whispering in her ear. She wants to scream bloody murder. “All you have to do is say the word and I’ll take you higher than you’ve ever been.”

“Prove it.” Naima feels like she’s put the final nail in her own coffin. Yunho has successfully worn her down. She can’t see his face, but she doesn’t have to to know that he’s smiling like he’s just won the lottery.

“Let’s go, Ravioli.” Naima expects Knox to be disappointed to see her leaving with Yunho when she waves at him to say bye, but instead he wiggles his eyebrows at her suggestively. She makes a mental note to yell at him for that later.

The ride to Yunho’s apartment is entirely too short. Naima’s shoulders are wrought with tension as she follows him up the stairs. Part of her wants to turn and run, but a much larger part is telling her to stay to see this through. Yunho has spoken quite highly of his sexual prowess and she’s more curious than not on just how much of it is true.

Yunho is on her the second she toes off her shoes by the door. One of his large hands firmly holds her jaw in place while he ravages her mouth with his own. Naima clings to his shirt to both hold him to her and ground herself in the moment. She feels lightheaded but it’s not from lack of oxygen. He uses his grip on her jaw to pry her mouth open, furthering his claim on her. The hand not covering her jaw skims across the skin above her shorts before deftly undoing the button. Her lips chase his when Yunho pulls away but he avoids her advances.

“Your lips taste so sweet. I want to taste all of you.” Naima shivers at the roughness of his voice. His normal baritone is a lot to deal with but this is downright sinful. He roughly hauls her off her feet into his arms, causing a fresh wave of arousal to flood her panties.

She busies herself with leaving marks along the column of his neck, loving the way she can feel his gruff moans vibrating against her lips. The smack of Yunho’s hand hitting the wall to steady himself when she grinds her hips against his startles her into.

“Jesus fuck, you’re killing me, baby girl.” Naima smiles mischievously, letting her lips linger on his skin. Something about the pet name he called her makes the heat simmering in her belly grow even hotter. He tosses her on his oversized bed once he collects himself enough to finally make it to his bedroom. She watches him curiously as he turns to dig around in his nightstand. His hand reappears with several foil packets in his grip which he promptly drops onto the mattress for later use.

Clothes fly haphazardly as Yunho hastily strips them down till nothing but his boxers remain in place. He smirks when he notices Naima’s playful grin drop when she takes in the size of the bulge he’s sporting. His large hands grip her hips, flipping her onto her stomach and rustling her around to a more favorable position. Finally satisfied with the way her face is pressed into the expensive Egyptian cotton of his bed sheets, Yunho buries his face in her dripping cunt from behind. He groans at his first taste of her and her answering whine is nothing but appreciative at the way it vibrates against her.

Naima yelps when Yunho’s large palms suddenly land on her ass with a resounding smack. He soothes the sting with tender caresses against her flesh. His tongue never leaves her entrance as he continues to coax a seemingly endless stream of arousal from her. She has the sheets in a death grip, moving her hips as if to separate herself from Yunho’s lethal tongue but wherever she goes his face simply follows. The slurping sounds of him feasting on her are absolutely obscene but she’s way too far gone to be embarrassed. She doubts that she would be able to form a coherent sentence of protest even if she wasn’t.

“You’re so fucking wet. I could drown in this pretty pussy.” Naima keens at his filthy words, squirming restlessly as the pleasure builds and builds within her.

It’s no surprise when she tumbles over the edge with a strangled shout, but she’d expected for him to release her once he’d made her come. Much to her surprise, Yunho doesn’t seem to have any plans of stopping. He tongues her through her orgasm, sucking gently on her clit as he thrusts two fingers into her still spasming entrance. Her knees buckle immediately from the sharp pang of oversensitivity. Yunho pulls his fingers from her long enough to land another harsh smack to her ass while his other holds her hips in place. The discomfort bleeds into pleasure until she’s racing headfirst into a second orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Let go. Give it all to me.” Naima swears she’s on the verge of blacking out when Yunho finally releases her. She collapses against the mattress when he relinquishes his grip on her, trembling from head to toe. His chest is warm against the sweat-slicked skin of her back when he covers his body with his own. He leaves chaste kisses along her shoulder as he loops an arm around her torso.

“Don’t tap out on me now, love. There’s still more fun to be had.” Yunho grinds his cock against her ass, smiling against her skin when he feels her shudder in his hold.

He pulls himself up on his knees, dragging Naima’s tired frame with him. He makes quick work of removing his boxers and rolling on one of the condoms he’d grabbed earlier. She jerks when the head of his latex covered cock bumps against her sensitive clit as he covers himself in the slick still leaking from her cunt. Yunho watches the back of her head like a hawk as he slowly presses himself against her entrance. He swears quite creatively at the way her muscles lock down on him.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Yunho!” Naima drops her head to rest on her arms, doing her best to relax. He reaches underneath her to rub circles into her clits and succeeds in pushing forwards a few more inches.

His breath catches in his throat when she pulls her hips before pushing back against him to sink down a little further on his thick length. They work together until he’s finally seated balls deep inside her. Yunho’s eyes roll back in his head at the tight squeeze of her perfect cunt. He’s been inside quite a few women in his day, but this feels almost like uncharted territory. He hisses when she flexes around him involuntarily, tightening even further though he didn’t think that was even possible.

“I’m going to wreck this pussy, baby.” He punctuates his statement by withdrawing till only the tip remains, pushing back in with a purposeful thrust of his hips. Naima nearly chokes on the pitiful whine that claws its way out of her throat. “You’re gonna feel me in here for days.”

To his credit, he tries to keep his pace even and not too fast. He really does. His fingers are probably bruising her skin from how tightly he’s gripping her hips but it’s the only thing keeping him grounded and sane at this point.

“You call this wrecking me? I could’ve done this at home with my Rabbit.” Naima can admit that Yunho’s dick was a hard pill to swallow at first, but she’s thoroughly adjusted and in need of more. Judging by the way his hips still she’s about to get just what she was aiming for. She gasps when he grabs a fistful of her hair, yanking her upright so that he can whisper in her ear.

“Didn’t I tell you to watch that pretty little mouth of yours?” He practically growls in her ear as he grinds against her cervix. The pain mixes with the pleasure in a way that’s starting to make her lightheaded.

“No, you didn’t.” She responds breathily. Her fingernails dig into his thighs painfully but Yunho doesn’t care even a little bit.

“Well, I should’ve.” He shoves her back towards the mattress not giving her even a few seconds to get her bearings before he’s rearing back to slam back into her tight heat.

She shouts his name, squirming in his iron grip but he shows her no mercy. The time for that has past. Yunho’s hips piston in out of her at a furious pace. His gaze is fixated on the way her pussy creams on his dick with every thrust. His chest rumbles in protest when manages to pull away from him enough for his cock to fall out of her.

“Don’t run from me, Naima. You wanted this dick and now you got it.” She keens at the sound of her real name coming out of his mouth. The way his husky tone wraps around the syllables should be illegal. He fists the sheets next to her head with one hand as he uses the other to reposition her hips to allow him to slide back inside. His legs straddle both of hers, giving him the leverage he needs to fuck her into the mattress.

Naima’s fingernails are leaving crescent shaped marks in Yunho’s wrists as she holds on for dear life. She’s never been so thoroughly fucked in all her life. He’s reaching spots inside her that she didn’t even know existed until now. She’s on the verge of tears when he slows his frantic pace. He lowers himself so that his larger frame dwarfs hers once more. His arms looped under hers to hold her close to him. Yunho resumes his movements, opting for a much more relaxed cadence. The purposeful grind of his hips is just as overwhelming if not more so after the intensity from before.

“This is my pussy now.” Yunho grunts into her ear. He sucks marks into every inch of skin that his lips can reach. “No one will ever fuck you this good. Never fuck you this deep. You’re all mine.”

Naima bites down hard on a pillow that she must have grabbed at some point as she clenches around him hard. It dawns on her vaguely that Yunho hasn’t touched her clit once. She’s about to come from penetration alone. A feat she’s never been able to accomplish. The very Earth feels like it’s opened up beneath her when the orgasm that had been flirting with her senses finally washes over her. She feels him grow impossibly harder inside her as he reaches his own end. Black spots dance across her vision when the throbbing sensation of him filling the condom triggers a smaller, biting orgasm.

She’s surprised that she manages to stay conscious if only barely. Her surprise only grows when she feels a warm towel gently wiping between her legs. Her shock reaches a fever pitch when Yunho’s fingers start working into her calf muscles. She chooses to stay silent out of fear that he might stop if caught being nice.

“You done pretending to be asleep? Or did I actually fuck you stupid?” She can practically hear the smile in his voice as his fingers climb higher to her thighs. So much for peacefully enjoying this massage.

“I like you better when you don’t speak.” His amused laughter brings a smile to her own face despite her attempts to tamp it down. She shivers when he places a chaste kiss on the swell of her ass before going back to his ministrations on her legs. Knox is never going to let her hear the end of this once he finds out.

She’s about to go insane. Naima’s stomach has growled twelve times in as many minutes and if she doesn’t eat something soon there will be fatal consequences. She checks her phone once more to check Knox’s location and nearly cries when it says that he’s arrived at DevTech. Just a few minutes stands between her and hot bacon, egg, and cheese croissant and an extra large caramel macchiato.

The sight of Knox navigating the sea of cubicles with her breakfast in hand may as well be the second coming of Christ. She throws her arms around her neck the second he steps into her office. He pretends to be disgusted when she pecks him on his cheek repeatedly. Knox takes a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of her desk to talk before he goes back downstairs to work. Their conversation when Yunho suddenly burst through the door.

“What the hell are you doing?” Naima is appalled at the way he’s just invited himself into her office without even having the decency to knock first.

“I should be asking you that. I asked you for the Murchison report fifteen minutes ago but I guess you were too busy with your little boy toy here to actually do your fucking job.” Knox stands, mouth fixed to defend her, but she holds up her hand to stop him.

“Knox, can you excuse us please?” Naima says sweetly. Her tone is sweet and even, but there’s a hard edge to it that tells Knox she’ll be able to handle Yunho’s temper tantrum just fine.

Naima wraps her sandwich up as she motions for Yunho to have a seat in the chair Knox has just vacated. She shrugs her shoulders when he refuses, crossing her modest office to lock the door and close the blinds she’d installed.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you, Jeong? Did you fall and hit your head? How dare you come to my office and insinuate that I’m not doing my job?.” He can tell that she’s working hard to keep from yelling at him but her words feel like a slap in the face either way.

“Look, I just need the Murchison report so that I can finish some paper-” Naima doesn’t even let him finish his sentence. She has no patience for him and his bullshit.

“Cut the bullshit, Yunho. The Murchison report wouldn’t be useful for anything other than end of year reporting which we are eight months away from so what the fuck do you actually want from me?” She’s seething. DevTech has a super relaxed company culture but HR still wouldn’t take too kindly to her punching another employee in the throat.

“Why didn’t you text me back yesterday?” Naima is taken aback. She remembers receiving a few texts from him on Sunday — how he got her number she doesn’t know — but it wasn’t anything that she felt warranted a response.

“Why would you want me to?”

The more they talk, the more Naima realizes that they went into that bedroom with very different ideas of what was going to happen afterwards. She’d intended for it to be a one time thing for him to try and prove her wrong which he’d succeeded in doing. Nothing more, nothing less. Obviously, Yunho had other ideas that went far beyond the four walls of his bedroom.

“This is new territory for me. I’ve never been jealous over women because I can get a new one in five minutes. I’ve never had a problem in that category.”

“Get to the point, Yunho.” She’s quickly growing bored of this conversation and she’s ready for it to be over.

“The point is that I want to see where this goes. Are you down for that?”

“No, you’re an asshole.”

“I mean, yeah, that’s true, but I’m cute and I’ll eat you out till you cry so what’s it gonna be?” He looks so hopeful that part of Naima wants to reject him again just to mess with him, but she’s not totally heartless. She decides to make him a deal.

“I’ll give you one week and then we’ll go from there now about this eating out business…” She trails off, looking at him suggestively.

“Come home with me after work and I’ll give you what you want and more.” The mischievous grin on his face promises another day of limping around and Naima is excited to say the least.

“You’ve got a deal. Now get out of my office.” She deadpans as she starts to unwrap the breakfast sandwich she hadn’t been able to finish earlier. He catches her off guard when he swoops in to steal a kiss from her lips as his “parting gift”.

“Later, Ravioli.”

She touches her fingers to her lips as she watches him walk back to his own office through her open door. It’s going to be an interesting week.

#ksmutclub #yunho smut #ateez smut #yunho x black oc #ateez x black oc #this is borderline pwp #plot where?#ateez fanfic #yunho fanfic #ateez yunho

91 notes · View notes