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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 3 years

Text

Fic: You Fake It, You Take It

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales/You (female reader, established relationship, no kids)

Words: 2,173

Warnings: PTSD (not really described but that's what it is), talk of dubcon, PiV sex, cunnilingus.

Summary: This is basically another version of Balm. I just like to make Frankie suffer. And then have sex with his girl to relieve the pain. And then feel bad about it. What is wrong with me?

You wake up from a muffled sound next to you and for a moment, you don't understand where you are or what the sound was. Then you hear it again and Frankie moves in discomfort by your side and you realize what’s going on. Turning over to him, you put a firm hand on his shoulder, finding it clammy.

“Frankie,” you whisper, “wake up. It’s okay, baby, you’re safe.”

The nightmares are no longer frequent. Some nights they’re manageable and some… not so much. There are times when Frankie refuses to go back to sleep and instead disappears to the living-room to turn on the TV and then staring ashen-faced at the shopping channel without really seeing anything.

You hate it when it hits him like that. You can’t do anything to help him and that feeling is awful.

“Frankie,” you say again, in less of a whisper this time. “Wake up, baby.”

He jerks out of sleep, sits upright and stares into the dark of the room, breathing heavily. You let your hand go down his sweaty back and scoot closer, close enough to embrace him.

“It’s okay, I got you,” you assure him in a low voice, one hand sliding up his chest and neck – a pulsating vein in his neck tells you how fast his heart is beating – and landing on his cheek. So far, he’s been unresponsive to you but now his hand covers yours and he draws a deep breath, exhaling in a tired sigh. You sit so for a while, quiet in the dark, one of your arms around him and the hand of your other arm on his cheek, his hand over yours to keep it there. You can feel his heart slow down and start to move in rhythm with yours.

"I got you," you tell him again and press a kiss to his shoulder, when he lowers his face to yours and covers your mouth with his. The kiss is desperate, rough. He moves his hand away from yours, leaving it feeling strangely cold, and pushes you down on your back, following immediately so that the kiss doesn’t break. He cups one of your breasts with his big hand and it makes sparks run down your spine. It’s two in the morning and you’re tired, you have work in the morning, as does he. But you know so well that he needs this, that it makes him feel better, grounds him in the here and now. And his kissing and groping, enthusiastic if a little clumsy, does make your body react whether you want it to or not. You slide your hands over his chest and shoulders, pinching a nipple here and pressing your nails into skin there, while kissing him back. His mouth and lips are dry and have the beginnings of morning breath, but that doesn’t bother you. What bothers you is his pain, and that you can help him with.

Frankie breaks the kiss for a moment to pull down your top and kiss your exposed breasts, biting and sucking your nipples while sliding his hand inside your pj pants. Quite unceremoniously, he fingers you – less to give you pleasure and more to just check how wet you are – and then rubs your clit quickly before pulling down your pants. You lifts your ass and help kick the pants off, now more horny than you ought to be at two in the morning. He has that effect on you.

You help him to get rid of his boxer briefs – not that he needs much help, urgent that he is – and reach for him, bringing him in for more kissing as he slides into you. Groaning, you puts your hands on his lower back, asking him with no words to stay still for a moment. Frankie complies despite his obvious hurry, his lips on your jawline, his breath hot and fast. Having adjusted to him, you move your pelvis to signal to him to continue, and he begins to fuck you steadily and thoroughly. He locks one of your arms above your head with a firm grip of your wrist, but after a few moments his hold softens and he slips his palm over yours and intertwines your fingers. You squeeze his hand and turn your face to kiss his head when he buries his face in your neck. He’s not communicative like he usually is, asking you how you are, telling you how good you feel. This is about him, not you, and it’s okay, it’s fast and it’s dirty and you like it. Your gasping breaths mingle with his as he nails you to the mattress, and despite the minimal foreplay your nerve endings begin to gather and prepare. You whimper something encouraging to Frankie and he growls, going faster, harder. You know from how he moves and sounds that he’s close now and you just hope he’s able to go for it long enough for you to climax as well.

He does, but your orgasm is not of the explosive kind that turns you inside out and leaves you almost unconscious with the intensity of it. It’s just a warm, fuzzy feeling that fills you and makes you sufficiently relaxed. Frankie, however, is filling you up with his cum and muttering all kinds of filthy things in your ear, so you go with the flow and throw your head back, moan loudly and thrust your hips up as if ravaged by a thunderous climax. Frankie places a breathless kiss on your neck and rolls off of you, planting his broad back firmly to the mattress beside you. After having caught your breath, you scoot next to him and throw one arm over his chest.

“Feeling better?” you whisper, already overcome by sleep.

“I’m good.”

You don’t reply; you’re out like a light.

***

“You faked.”

You don’t look away from the bathroom mirror but continue to apply eyeshadow with minute strokes of the brush. Frankie stands in the doorway to the bathroom and you can see in the corner of your eye that he’s looking dark and brooding.

“What's that, baby?”

“You faked your orgasm last night.”

Dammit. You had hoped he wouldn't notice or remember your little cover-up.

“I didn’t,” you try to smooth things over. “Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. To make me feel better?”

“You think I care about your ego at two in the morning? I didn’t fake it, Frankie.”

“I don’t need pity sex and I don’t need you to fake orgasms when you don’t even want sex.”

He sounds angry, which is uncommon for him. You put down the brush and turn to him, perplexed. Whenever you fight - which you don't do often but it does happen - it's always you who start it. He usually tries to defuse the situation and talk it out.

He has dark bags under his eyes and a deep line between his eyebrows. You look the same but at least you can cover it up with makeup. The last thing you want is to fight at seven in the morning, but the lack of sleep makes your blood start to boil.

“Is that what you think that was? Pity sex?” you bite. “You honestly think I would let you fuck me if I didn’t want to? You don’t know me very well, do you?”

“Well enough to know that me waking you up with my nightmares doesn't exactly make you horny."

“Why are you mad at me for agreeing to sex?” You sigh and turn back towards the mirror, picking up the eyeliner. “I agreed, we fucked, we both came. I don’t understand what you’re so upset about.”

You lean over the sink to get closer to the mirror and start to line your eyes with black, hand steady and gaze focused. Not only sleep-deprived, you're also annoyed at him and even more furious at yourself. Of course you can see what’s bothering him: he’s feeling bad about waking you up in the middle of the night and fucking you. He is, after all, a good guy, one of the few. He usually keeps things to himself but when he’s vulnerable, his sensitivity bleeds all over the place. You just don't know how to handle it at the moment.

“You don’t think I know what it feels like to be inside you when you have an orgasm?” Frankie insists and for a second, you don't know whether to slap him for not letting go of the matter, or yourself for not understanding that of course he’d know that. There are few things about your body Frankie doesn’t know, especially when it comes to sex.

“Okay,” you admit, putting the eyeliner down and turning to him again. He looks more forlorn than angry now, hovering in the doorway. His bed hair doesn't help in making him look imposing. You have to smile a little as you close the small distance between him and you. Taking his hand between yours, you place a gentle kiss on his knuckles and look into his brown eyes that right now are dark and velvety. You see clearly what bothers him: he's disappointed in himself for his lack of control, and annoyed with you for not being honest.

“I exaggerated,” you confess softly. “I did cum, but I didn’t want you to feel bad so I overdid it slightly.”

Frankie stares intently at you, his jaw tense, before sighing deeply.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he finally says, his voice soft. “Least you could do when I wake you up with my bullshit and fuck you without checking if you’re okay with it is make me feel bad about it.”

“Baby, there's nothing for you to feel bad about," you try to convince him. "Was I passive? Was I dry? I seem to remember being none of those things. If I hadn't wanted sex, I’d have told you. You know that, right?”

Frankie looks conflicted. You can smell the frustration on him, sharp and metallic. He's still mad at himself. It makes you feel frustrated as well because you did enjoy the sex. It was... different. Frankie is usually such a selfless lover, always making sure all your needs are covered. It was exciting to have him just take what he needed - and even then, he did make sure you were wet, he didn't skip the foreplay completely.

“I’m sorry,” you say earnestly, releasing his hand and putting your hands on his shoulders instead, hoping the physical contact will ease his mind. “I guess I didn’t think it was such a big deal. I didn’t mean for it to be such a big deal.”

You realize you've said the wrong thing; Frankie looks at you like he's about to start crying. God DAMN it.

“It is a big deal to me," he tells you in a low voice. "If I can't satisfy you, just be honest about it."

"You did satisfy me - " you begin, but he cuts you off with a finger over your lips.

"You don't need to overdo it. You don't need to fake it. I know you can be horny and still not be able to cum and if that happens, just tell me there ain’t gonna be no fireworks."

You nod. It was a stupid thing to do, you know that, but you got caught up in the moment and wanted to make him feel good. You're willing to give him that.

"Okay, baby. I promise, I'm not doing it again."

Still, you're not letting him off the hook.

"And will you stop beating yourself up about the whole incident?" you ask him softly, cupping his cheek, enjoying the feel of his beard against your palm. "You didn't force yourself on me, Frankie."

He hesitates for a second, then makes a gesture with his head that could be interpreted as a nod.

"What was that?" you smile, your fingers wandering to his ear and tweaking the lobe playfully. "That was not a yes."

"Okay. Yes." He returns your smile and you stand on tiptoe to reach his lips. His breath is fresh and tastes of mouthwash with a hint of coffee lingering at the back of his tongue.

"I can't stand the thought of hurting you," he mumbles into your mouth.

"I know you wouldn't hurt me."

Slowly, Frankie’s arms are wrapped around you in a soft embrace that turns rough when, without warning, you find yourself jammed between Frankie and the doorpost.

“No time,” you manage to tell him between the kisses. “Frankie, I’m gonna be late.”

“I know. Don’t care. You fake it, you take it.”

“You just made that up.”

“Damn straight I did.”

He lifts you up and takes you to bed, where your half-hearted protests cease the minute he pulls up your skirt, pulls down your panties and starts to, very confidently, eat you out. And this time, there’s no mistaking the intensity of your orgasm.

#my fic #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #francisco frankie morales #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal characters

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bellshells · 3 years

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Merry Christmas, Dearest

Merry Christmas from me and mine, to you and yours. This is a little something I wrote this evening with a glass of port and my heart so full. It’s been a shit year I’m sure you’ll all agree, so lets just escape to a world where things are a tiny bit better.

Severus Snape x Fem!Reader

Reader wants Severus to come to bed after being neglected on Christmas Eve. Warnings: Fluff, Smut, Dominant!Sev, Language, just him being perfect really Word Count: 2602

“Dearest, please leave that there and come to bed.” You implored softly as you leaned against the doorframe to his office and tightly crossed your arms against your chest, it was cold here, the fire long since dead. Severus sighed and rubbed his temples with ink-stained fingers, he had promised you he would be finished with his writing hours ago and yet; when you had inevitably fallen asleep in an empty bed and awoke hours later to the same, you had tried not to turn to anger. He was a busy man after all. Severus turned to you sheepishly, tiredness strained his onyx eyes and after a while of regarding your frame, he frowned. Long lines of stress marked his pale face and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’ve done it again, haven’t I?” Severus asked quietly, almost timidly. It was so unlike him to show any vulnerability it was almost jarring, and when his eyes began to fill with tears your heart sank into the pit of your stomach with shame. You crossed the room in three swift steps, your arms enveloped the stiff potions master and brought him close to your chest. The pitiful sniffles against your shoulder caused your already aching heart to burst with love. “I’m so sorry (Y/N). When I looked at the clock last it was only five o’clock, I must have gotten carried away. Have I missed dinner?”

You stifled a giggle and pressed a loving kiss to the top of his raven-haired head. “Well seeing as it’s ten to eleven I would say so, yes. It was delicious too. They had the Christmas Cake with the fruit rum you like.” Severus groaned at your words as he brought his arms up around your waist and tugged tightly, you landed in his lap rather ungracefully and smiled widely at him. “Do you mean to tell me I’ll have to wait another bloody year for my Christmas Cake?” He pulled away slightly you frowned at him somewhat, you wondered whether there was another meaning to his words. Severus’ brow furrowed as you bit your lip. “Well, we could stay here tomorrow if you like Sev, we don’t have to go into town. I’m sure everyone will understand.” Severus shook his head vehemently. “Hush. I’ll not have any talk of that. We said we’d visit our friends on Christmas Day and that is exactly what we’ll do.” He reached forward and captured your lips to his in a chaste kiss. “My friends.” You corrected, “You’ve said yourself you don’t like them, Severus.” “Yes well,” Severus began, he squeezed the top of your thigh reassuringly. “In the absence of family in which we are both severely lacking, friends will have to do. And I suppose your friends are better than most, darling. Whether I like them or not is of no consequence, if it would bring a smile to your face, I would duel the Dark Lord.” He offered you a small smile, but you couldn’t miss the look of sadness that danced fleetingly across his features. Christmas was always a difficult time for Severus, he missed his mother greatly during the festive season. It was something you had bonded over very quickly when you had met, absent fathers and mothers who couldn’t seem to get it right. “But I want to do what makes you happy, dearest. Would you like to stay at the castle?” You pressed gently; you brought your head down to rest against his shoulder as Severus shuffled backwards into the chair. His long fingers wound their way around your knee, pulling you tightly against him. “No no. We have our plans for tomorrow, what I wish to know is what we can do about tonight.” Severus said softly into your hair, his cheek nestled against the top of your head. “What do you mean?” “I have severely neglected you on Christmas Eve. I am a terrible partner; I would like to make it up to you.” “Honestly Sev, it’s fi-” “Quiet.”

In that one word he had captured every inch of your attention. Every hair on your body stood on end as Severus’ grip on your knee loosened and his hand travelled up your thigh, slowly. You swallowed hard, a whimper on your lips as he patted at the inside of your thigh as a direction to part them. “Severus please, you don’t have to.” “I have no objections to throwing you onto your stomach and spanking your pert bottom Miss (Y/L/N).” Severus said sharply, his black eyes now alive with excitement. Your face flushed and a soft moan escaped your lips, part of you wanted nothing more. “Now,” He continued, “May I?” You nodded your consent and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth; his gaze swept over you as you parted your legs for him. You heard his sigh of contentment and with a satisfied wriggle, he shifted you further up onto his lap so he could gain better purchase of your frame. His fingers ghosted over your clothed entrance; you couldn’t help yourself as your hips lifted slightly against his featherlike touch. His chuckle reverberated in your back as he continued to run his long fingers from the top of your sex to the bottom and then back again.

You groaned with impatience as Severus refused to end his teasing, your thighs shook with strain as you again lifted yourself eager for friction. “Sev…please,” You breathed, he eyes glanced to your face for only a moment before he stood and pulled you by your wrists. You yelped in surprise as, gruffly, Severus lifted your hips and pushed you backwards onto his desk. Your quim ached with desire and you watched with half lidded eyes as Severus reached under the hem of your large sleep shirt and grasped your knickers, pulling them down and discarding them in a record-breaking speed. You pushed your knees together, suddenly aware of yourself and feeling utterly self-conscious. Severus lowered himself to his knees and placed his hands either side of where your feet sat on the desk. “Spread for your legs for me pet, I want to see your pretty little cunt.” Severus instructed, without even considering it for a moment you complied. He took a sharp intake of breath as without being asked, you spread your labia for him, allowing the brooding man on his knees for you a good look. “That’s it little one, let Daddy see.” He once again took your hips and roughly pulled you toward him, you could feel his hot breath on your mound, and you moaned wantonly in response. “I’ve neglected you terribly, haven’t I?” He cooed, you weren’t completely sure whether he was talking to you specifically, or your vulva- but in the state of heightened arousal you were in you decided you didn’t care. You writhed beneath him as he softly caressed the sensitive flesh of your thighs, you knew he was getting off on this, the tease was one of his biggest turn-ons. He wanted you a whimpering, pleading, needy mess before he would even consider fucking you, and you were shameless of your admittance of the fact. “Please…please touch me.” “You’ve been a good girl, haven’t you? Hm?” His nose brushed against your clitoris in a fleeting touch and your hands flew to the sides of your head, and you pulled exasperatedly at your hair. “Yes! Yes, please! I’ve been so good!” “That is good to hear pet, as I’m sure you’re already aware- good girls get rewarded.”

He lapped at you like he would never get his fill. Severus ran his tongue greedily from your perineum to your clitoris and rolled over it in delicious circles. You moaned again, a long, throaty moan as the sensation of Severus flattening his tongue against you made your toes curl. He brought two fingers to your entrances and pushed into slowly, you didn’t need time to adjust, your cunt was greedy for him. You throbbed against his fingers and he let out a low chuckle, it vibrated against your folds and accentuated the pleasure. He focused his lips on your clitoris, he suckled and nibbled on the sensitive nub. Your moans became louder until your throat began to ache, the pleasure he plucked from your body was almost divine. Severus twisted his fingers inside you, fucking you with a merciless pace. You wound your hands into his hair and pulled his head further into you, grinding your throbbing quim against his heavenly face. When you came, it was guttural. A release you didn’t know you had needed. He let you settle yourself, your grinding ceased, and your legs flopped open further, completely spent. He pushed back onto his heels as you propped yourself up onto your elbows. The evidence of your orgasm dripped from his chin as he regarded you devilishly. “Delicious.” He whispered. You didn’t dare move. You didn’t think you could, even if you tried. He stood after a moment and quickly removed his belt. You felt excitement build in your stomach as you watched as he removed his trousers and underwear, his proud cock stood to attention illuminated softly by the sparse candlelight. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

You nodded eagerly and opened your arms to him. In that simple gesture, Severus’ expression changed from the dark charged one he had worn to one of pure adoration. He faltered, cock in hand. He closed his for a moment and then extended his hand to you. “Come my love. Let’s go to bed.” You sat up immediately, terrified that Severus had changed his mind. Panic began to rise in you, your hands trembled as you accepted his and gently lowered yourself from the desk. He pulled you close to him and pressed a finger under your chin, lifting your lips to his. The kiss he gave you was loving and safe, he was warm and so very open to you. Instantly you felt at ease as he peppered kisses to your cheeks and forehead. “Come.” He said again and he slid his hand into yours and led you into the bed chamber.

Severus wasted no time in burying himself into you deeply. As soon as the door was locked and warded, you were on the bed and the sordid passion from your earlier play was replaced by an unbridled devotion that even the world’s greatest lovers couldn’t match. You were so very in love with this man, and there was nothing you loved more than being as one with him. He seemed to fit into every aspect of your being, heart and soul. He made love to you then, his heart close to yours and kisses and caresses and whispered words of love. It made every cell of your body sizzle with passion. This man, this wounded soul had been emptied of love and you had made it your mission to fill him to the brim of all the love you possessed. Severus in return, made your mind and body sing with pleasure. He was your equal in every way and yet you felt like you would never be deserving of him. He was perfectly imperfect; he could be rude and obnoxious and in the same breath be the most thoughtful and adoring person. You weren’t deserving of him, no. Not even close.

He reached parts of you no man had ever reached before, and as he pushed his cock into the hilt, you grasped hold of his buttocks and squeezed. “Will you come for me, dearest?” You whispered against his neck, you pressed a lazy kiss there and felt him shudder under your touch. “Yes…” Severus groaned, “Oh (Y/N), I love you. Please, come with me. Oh gods, I can’t hold on.” His breath came in short pants as his thrusts became sloppier, Severus brought a hand in between your bodies and began to rub furious circles against your clitoris. You bit your lip against the grunt that threaten to escape you and allowed Severus to pull from you another orgasm. Courteous as ever, he waited until the very last second before he allowed himself to come. Your orgasm coursed through your veins and set your skin ablaze and you told him, over and over again, how much you loved him. Severus came in three sharp thrusts and collapsed into a heap of sweaty sighs beside you on the bed. You ached, your legs, your arms, your poor quim in its overstimulation. Severus wasted no time in pulling you close to him, leg hooked over yours and fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin. You hummed contentedly and nestled closer to him, your arm firmly around his waist. “Is it past midnight?” You asked after a while, a comfortable silence had enveloped you and sleep threatened to take you once again. Severus merely hummed in response, obviously equally as tired. “Merry Christmas.” You whispered and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. That seemed to rouse something in Severus as in an instant, he had rolled you beneath him once more, his body flush to yours. He lead against you this time, he brushed your hair gently from your face and looked earnestly into your eyes. “Merry Christmas my darling girl.” Severus said softly, he pressed a long kiss to your lips and smiled. “Would you like your present now?” “No!” You protested, “All of your presents are under the tree and I’m not moving from this bed.” You laughed, he snickered and kissed you again. “I don’t want anything right now other than for you to accept this.” He said, his eyes glistened with something you couldn’t quite describe. He licked his lips and bent over towards his bedside table and instructed you to close your eyes. When you did, you felt Severus resume his position and sigh. “You may open your eyes, (Y/N).”

What you were expecting to see and what you actually saw were two completely different things. Severus held between his finger and his thumb was a ring. An emerald surrounded by diamonds on a gold band. You blinked twice. “Is that-?” “Edwardian, yes. I thought you might appreciate something vintage I-” “Is that an engagement ring?” You asked, Severus looked at you blankly. “What else would it be?” He had you there. Your eyes filled with tears and Severus sat up like a shot. “(Y/N)? What’s the matter? Don’t you like it?” Severus’ own eyes betrayed his surprise as you wept in his bed. He placed the ring onto the bed beside you and wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulders. “Ask me.” You said finally, Severus looked at you quizzically. His brow furrowed and his hands trembling. “Ask me.” It seemed to dawn on Severus what you were asking him to do. He shuffled in front of you and grasped both of your hands in his. “Would you do me the tremendous honour, the only real honour of my life, in becoming my wife?” Severus chest heaved with the weight of anticipation, his hair framed his face like a portrait of a roman god, his body bare. Noble and true. “Yes.” “Yes?” “Yes you foolish, silly man. I would love nothing more than to be your wife.”

Severus pushed the ring onto your finger and admired it with a teary expression, his smile threatened to falter at any second. “Are you certain? Really, truly certain?” Severus asked quietly, you pressed a hand to his cheek, and he melted into your touch. “I am. I love you.” “I love you too. Merry Christmas.” “Merry Christmas.”

#severus snape #professor snape #pro severus snape #Pro Snape #severus snape x reader #snape x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter reader insert #godrics-swallow

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theyoungest-weasley · 3 years

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Bucky/Steve Imagine 1

Request: Heyyy request time! Stablished bucky x reader but steve is in love with her and maybe without realizing he takes advantage of bucky vanishing

“Hey. How you feelin’?”

Steve posed the question as if he hadn’t been too afraid to ask you such a simple question for the past week. All you’d done since Bucky disappeared was sleep and drink the water Steve brought to your room. You knew he was worries about you, and you knew he was hurting too, but the pain was so much you couldn’t even push through out of concern for your friend.

“Okay.” It was the most you could get out at the time, and the first words you’d spoken since you screamed Bucky’s name as you watched him disintegrate.

“I miss him too,” Steve began, “I know what you had was- I don’t want to make you feel-“

“I know,” you interrupted. It broke your heart to see Steve so broken and trying to keep it together for you. It was the type of person he was. He always had to be the strong one, the supportive one. You knew that on top of missing Bucky, it was killing him he couldn’t make it better for you.

“I’ll be okay,” you attempted to assure him, “I promise.”

You got up and walked over to hug Steve, and, when you did, saw that he’d began to tear up.

“I know,” you whispered as you pulled him close. Although the Captain was over 6 feet tall, he felt small in this moment. You held him for a minute before pulling away and holding his face in your hands. “I’m not going anywhere; we’ll be there for each other.”

“Deal,” Steve smiled.

Over the next few months, you and Steve stayed in the apartment where you and Bucky used to live. You couldn’t bear to get rid of any of Bucky’s things, and you felt it brought Steve comfort to be in place that reminded him of his friend.

While time and Steve’s company had ever-so-slightly improved your mood, you found yourself often crying in the middle of the night. Bucky’s side of the bed felt big and empty. You desperately wanted to hold on to him, but you knew he was gone. On this particular night, you were wrapped in one of Bucky’s shirts. You always tried to be quiet, but the familiar smell of the love of your life brought back the fear you saw in his eyes during his last moments. The worst part, you felt, was how scared he was. Bucky had been to hell and back during his life, and you’d done everything in your power to help him heal and feel safe. You were always where he felt the most protected, and when he looked at you in those moments you were so petrified of losing him you didn’t even reach out to touch him- to comfort him. It wracked you with guilt and regret.

“Y/n?” You heard a whisper and a faint tap on your door.

You wiped your eyes and attempted to clear your voice, “Yeah? Are you okay?”

Steve gently pushed the door open, “Can I come in?”

You sat up, “Of course, what’s up?” You attempted to pull yourself together.

Steve sat on the edge of your bed, “Y/n, I’m okay. But... I hear you. I-I know you may want to be alone but, no matter the time you can get me. Lord knows the amount of times you’ve been there for me.”

You reached out and held his hand and let the tears come. Without saying a word, the two of you knew what each other were feeling. You turned to face Steve and lie down as he pulled back the blanket and laid next to you. He gathered you easily in his arms and pulled you onto his chest. He began gently brushing your hair back with the palm of his hand as you silently cried. All of the nights where you’d stayed up until dawn unable to sleep seemed silly. Steve’s steady breathing quickly brought your own to its pace, and the warmth of his chest and arms brought you to a deep sleep within minutes.

This quickly became your routine. You slept much better with Steve there and he with you. After several months of this routine, mixed with late night chats and midnight confessions, you and Steve had become closer than you’d ever imagined you would be. He’d told you about his family, how he’d grown up the runt of a large brood of irish catholic immigrants, and you’d told him about yours.

He’d spilled his heart to you about losing Peggy, and how he still visited her in her old age, and you confessed your guilt about Bucky’s death and bonded over your lost loves.

Steve ended up wearing Bucky’s t-shirts that were left hanging in the wardrobe beside his and your bed. He held your hand during the day and you brushed your teeth together at night. Steve wouldn’t lie, he was deeply in love with you. Of course, he wanted to help you grieve Bucky, but the lengths he went to to ensure you were okay were not motivated just by feelings of friendship and selfless kindness. He would do anything for you.

About a year after Bucky’s disappearance, you and Steve were sitting in your kitchen deciding what to have for dinner.

“Come on,” you begged, “you always pick where we order from! It’s definitely my turn.”

“No way! Just because Bucky was a pushover and let you pick doesn’t mean I will too!”

He’d meant it as a harmless joke, but it struck a chord with you. You thought of all the times you teased your sweet boyfriend into letting you pick movies and orders. You felt the tears begin and cursed yourself for being so sensitive.

“Oh, y/n,” Steve began to apologize, “I didn’t-“

“It’s fine!” you snapped. Steve reached out to you and you pulled away, “I said it’s fine, just leave me alone!”

“That’s not fair,” Steve was beginning to get annoyed, “you talk about him and laugh about old stories at 3am every other night but I’m not allowed to mention him at any other time? He was my friend too!”

“Oh, yeah” you rolled your eyes, “sure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve demanded.

“I don’t think friends shack up with other friends girlfriends the second they die!”

“What? Is that what you think I did?”

“Oh please Steve,” you spat, “Don’t think I don’t see it now. You wear his shirts and sleep in his bed! You do all the shit we used to do- except fucking me. You swooped in the second he vanished and it took me a while to see it but you act like you don’t even realize it!”

Steve fell silent and you immediately regretted your harshness, “Fuck, Steve. I’m sorry I didn’t mean that. I’ve just been stressed and I do miss him-“

“No,” Steve interrupted, “no, you’re right. I-I’ve been ignoring it but it’s true. The fact is, I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since I met you. And you and Bucky started going and that was great. He was so happy and you were so happy and you both deserve the best. But after he died I felt like I’d lost him and I didn’t wanna lose you too. I guess I just let it happen and I should’ve stopped it. I can’t play house with my best friends girl and expect her to love me back. I’ve been horrible, y/n. I didn’t fully see it until just know, but I’m sorry.”

You stood there, shell-shocked trying to absorb everything. You would be lying if you said that over the time you’d spent together, you’re feelings for Steve had grown and changed. What used to be platonic admiration had grown to be something deeper. You missed him when he was gone. You feel asleep on his chest and spent the moments you lied there awake memorizing the feeling of his body beneath yours.

“I should go,” Steve said quietly.

He walked to your bedroom to grab his coat and shoes and you had a moment of clarity.

“Wait, Steve,” you followed him into your room, “I know that the way things happened worries you, but no one else could have been there for me. I know what I said but it’s because I’ve been feeling guilty because I-I love you too. Please stay.”

By this point you’d gotten close enough to Steve to feel his breath on your face. You were looking down at his chest, waiting for a response. The tension in the air made your hair stand up, and a moment passed before you looked up at him. You felt his hand on your arm and moved your lips as close to his as possible without touching them. You reached you hand up to his face and closed your eyes before finally kissing him. He moved both his hand so they were pulling you closer by your arms, and you pushed yourself on your tip-toes to get as close to him as possible before he moved an arm to your thigh and picked you up. He firmly planted you with you back on the bed and pressed your forearms down above your head on the mattress while climbing on top of you. You wrapped your legs around him and bit his lip. He moaned into your mouth and put his hands up your shirt, working his way to your bra. You reached down to his belt and began undoing the clasp as he ripped of your bra.

hahahah okay the rest is implied heavily i’d say. Ty for reading. I may perhaps do part 2 w after bucky comes back?

#bucky x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers imagine #marvel #avengers #marvel imagine #avengers imagines #avengers imagine #avengers x reader

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alexsfictionaddiction · 3 years

Text

‘She overcame everything that was meant to destroy her.’

Women are truly incredible creatures. We have spent centuries being overlooked, downtrodden and dismissed. In some respects, we have come a long way in terms of gender equality but there are still many recent occurrences which remind us of how far we have to go.

So many female illnesses take years to diagnose or aren’t taken seriously enough when they are. Women are still having to justify why they chose not to have children. We’re still working with a pay gap. Some women aren’t considered to be women because of the body parts they were born with or without. There are still places in the world where women simply don’t and never will have the opportunities to live life on their own terms. Despite all this, we’re still out in the world making and doing amazing things and looking beautiful while doing them.

This recommendation list is really a collection of books that celebrate women, their courage, their friendships and their choices. It’s pretty varied in terms of genre and style, so I’m pretty sure you’ll find at least one book here that piques your interest. Keep being your fierce, unstoppable self and honour your girls today. -Love, Alex x

1. Dangerous Women by Hope Adams.

In 1841, 180 English women are on board The Rajah, a ship bound for Australia. All of them are criminals, most of them convicted of petty crimes but one of them has a deadly dark secret. Then someone is killed and the hunt for the culprit is on. But it’s hard to protest your innocence when you’ve already been found guilty. This addictive mystery is so well-researched and is based on the true stories of real female criminals aboard The Rajah. There is an overwhelming, stifling darkness, haunting the whole novel that is so atmospheric and reflective of conditions on board. It’s a story of sisterhood, female friendship and the existence of the Rajah Quilt is an example of the incredible feats that women can overcome if they work together.

2. Moxie by Jennifer Mathieu.

Viv is tired of following the rules at her high school and is determined to shake things up. Channelling her mum’s former punk persona, Viv creates and secretly distributes a feminist zine to her classmates, who start to take action. Cliques are abandoned as new friendships are formed and a revolution kicks off. The real sweetness about this gutsy, fierce YA novel is the fact that talking about the daily trials and tribulations that girls go through brings them together rather than divides them. There are some fantastic characters and the inclusion of male allies is everything.

3. Queenie by Candice Carty-Williams.

After a disastrous break up, British-Jamaican millennial Queenie embarks on a journey, riddled with bad choices, to discover what she really wants from life. Straddling two cultures, a job where she is perpetually underappreciated and an underlying mental health condition, Queenie is a relatable depiction of what it means to be a young, Black woman in 21st century London. Funny, honest and deeply moving, Queenie is an essential enlightening read with a wonderfully flawed, real woman at its heart.

4. Hag: Forgotten Folktales Retold.

Inspired by British urban myths, this collection of spooky, fantastical stories by various female authors celebrates women in all of their guises. These stories are written by the likes of Daisy Johnson, Kirsty Logan, Irenosen Okojie, Eimear McBride and more. Some of the stories are very dark. Some of them offer powerful insights into other cultures. Some of them explore inherently female issues such as the repression of desire and motherhood. Overriding the whole collection is the wonder and power of women defying the odds and achieving their dreams. A fantastically unique read, ideal for International Women’s Day.

5. My Grandmother Asked Me To Tell You She’s Sorry by Fredrik Backman.

When Elsa’s grandmother dies, she discovers a series of letters apologising to the various people she has wronged. Elsa’s mission to deliver these letters leads to some strange places and a journey that leads to getting to know her grandmother in a way she never did, when she was alive. The relationship between seven-year-old Elsa and her grandmother is so beautiful and I’m sure I’ll never read another grandmother-granddaughter relationship like it. Granny is a truly formidable character and a woman who has left behind a very full, colourful life. Backman is a master at writing quirky, uplifting stories of community and this charming novel is no different.

6. Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 by Cho Nam-Joo.

Kim Jiyoung has recently given up work to raise her baby daughter but before long, she begins displaying strange symptoms, such as impersonating the voices of other women. As her psychosis deepens, Jiyoung’s entire life is spilled to her male psychiatrist and it’s a life of restriction, abuse and control. This incredibly evocative book is a harrowing illustration of the misogyny ingrained deep in Korean culture and the devastating effects it can have on the women who live within it. A woman on the brink of insanity speaks for them all in this heavily symbolic, heartbreaking read.

7. The Shelf by Helly Acton.

Amy is pretty sure that Jamie is about to propose, so she is more than shocked to find herself on The Shelf, a reality TV show for single women. Over the next few weeks, she and five other women must take on challenges to improve themselves and be crowned ‘The Keeper’. The Shelf is a joyful celebration of singledom and female friendship. Funny and heartwarming, it inspires its readers to never settle for second best and discover life and yourself, completely on your own terms.

8. Invisible Women by Caroline Criado-Perez.

The world is made for men. Cars, phones, the medical industry, workplace laws and more areas of modern society largely ignore women. This fantastically informative manual exposes all the data biases that have been hidden from us. Caroline Criado-Perez has collated stories and case studies from across the globe that show how women’s lives and health are affected by our male-minded world and calls for drastic change.

9. A Kind of Spark by Elle McNicoll.

Addie has autism but she is so much more than that. When she learns of her hometown’s involvement in witch trials, she launches a campaign to erect a memorial for the women who died during them. This gorgeous, uplifting, funny middle-grade book offers a unique insight into a neurodivergent mind and simultaneously honours innocent, murdered women. You’ll get all the feels!

10. Olive by Emma Gannon.

Olive’s choice to not be a mother has ended her nine year relationship and her three best friends are all at various stages of motherhood. So, where will Olive fit into their lives now? This wonderfully sensitive and thoughtful novel is a wonderful celebration of women who are child-free by choice as well as giving voice to those who have struggled to become mothers. It will speak to any woman who has ever been asked when they’re going to take the leap into that ‘inevitable’ stage of a female life -motherhood.

11. The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid.

Evelyn Hugo is a retired Hollywood icon who has personally chosen struggling, unknown reporter Monique to dictate her biography to. No one knows why, not even Monique herself. Over a series of intimate meetings, Evelyn tells Monique her story; from her rise to fame in the 1950s LA to her retirement 30 years later and the myriad of romances throughout that time. In time, it becomes clear that Evelyn’s and Monique’s lives intertwine in a heartbreaking fashion. Soaring, epic and completely unforgettable, Evelyn Hugo is the story of a woman who was consistently objectified, moulded and suppressed. Ultimately, it is a story of a great forbidden love and the hell that fame can bring, especially for women.

12. The Year of the Witching by Alexis Henderson.

Imannuelle’s mixed heritage is sacrilege in the tiny, puritanical community in which she lives. So she does her best to obey the rules and worship the Father. However, she finds herself in the haunted Darkwood where the spirits of murdered witches roam but they have a gift for Immanuelle -her dead mother’s journal, which leads to her discovering the dark truths behind the community she was born into. This atmospheric, brooding fantasy-horror novel champions the overthrowing of control, the discovery of one’s own inner power and capabilities as well as demonstrating how women have been villified by the patriarchy for centuries, simply for leading the lives that they want to lead. An addictive, Gothic witchy treat!

#international women's day #book recommendations #recommendations #books #bookworm

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harghoes · 4 years

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Can I send a request for “ the way you touch me leaves me speechless… ” with Wolffe?

uh... this got a whole lot longer than i was expecting... good job anon you really made me snap writing this hah!!

Being in public is never an issue. Being in public with Wolffe, well. That’s a different story. He has to be touching you the entire time, doesn’t matter where, how, or why. His hands are always on your body somewhere. Not like you’re complaining, having the brooding commander of the 104th wrapped around your finger gives you a sense of pride and confidence.

Right now, Wolffe has his hand in your back pocket while you two walk some Outer Rim planet you didn’t even learn the name of. It’s not important. What is important, is Wolffe’s fingers starting to tap your ass through your pants. You look up at him, taking in his side profile, before he turns his head to make eye contact. Maker, how is he so beautiful? Seriously. How can one person be so gorgeous. It’s not fair.

Catching Wolffe’s chuckle, you realize that you’ve been staring at him the entire time, and he knows the exact reason why. He reaches up to cup your cheek before pulling you in for a sweet kiss. It feels odd, being able to be so open with your love, but that thought is shoved far from your head when his tongue swipes your bottom lip.

Pulling away from him, you begin to walk back to the lodge where you two are staying. Setting up this trip hadn’t been easy. Anakin and Padmé had helped set this up, letting you two know that this planet was safe for you, before letting you go on your way. So, here you are, with the love of your life, on a remote planet spending a vacation together.

Entering the doors to the lodge, Wolffe is instantly spinning you around and pinning you to the door. You let out a surprised yelp, not expecting to be thrown against the door, before you look at him. He’s leaning over you, one hand still on your arm, the other resting on your hip. With your free hand you reach up to caress his cheek and that’s what seems to break him. He’s leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips, the hand on your arm rubbing up and down, before his kiss starts to get more heated.

Opening your mouth for him this time Wolffe slips his tongue in. The hand on your hip begins to move under your shirt, slowly pulling it up and over your head. You reach for Wolffe’s shirt once yours is discarded and toss it away from you two. He presses himself against you, letting you feel all of him, before he picks you up. Laying you down on the bed, he takes a step back, admiring you.

Sitting up, you reach for his belt loops and pull him closer. You trail your hands up his stomach, watching as he tenses and shivers slightly, before you rest your hands against his chest. Wolffe looks like he wants to say something but can’t get the words out, so you ask him, “what’s on your mind, cyar'ika?”

Wolffe shudders once more before replying, “the way you touch me leaves me speechless…”

Moving to your knees, you pull his face down to meet yours in a passionate kiss. Pulling back softly onto the bed, Wolffe supports his weight with arms on both sides of you. Wolffe shifts his weight in order to begin working your pants and panties off. He trails his hand back up to your pussy and starts rubbing small circles on your clit. Moaning out for him, you thread a hand through his hair, gripping onto the curls tightly.

Wolffe begins to litter kisses down your body as he makes his way to where you want him most. When he’s finally settled between your thighs he looks up at you through his lashes before giving you a soft lick. Your body arches off the bed at the feel of his tongue on you and you let out a whine once his finger enters you. Thighs tightening around his head, he starts to suck and lick at your clit while thrusting his finger into you. Eventually, he adds a second finger with a harsh suck to your clit which makes you keen for him. Wolffe settles his free arm around you to keep pressure on your hips, while your hands settle into his curls. Wolffe doesn’t let up at all, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. All you can do to let him know you’re close is tug his hair harder and then you’re gone in a blaze of white hot heat.

Wolffe works you through your orgasm by continuing to pump his fingers and press small kisses to your clit. He removes his fingers from you, bringing them up to his mouth to clean them, before he’s groaning and leaning down to kiss you. You reach your hands down to begin unbuttoning his pants and Wolffe removes himself from you to get rid of them completely. Bringing him back to you, he drags his tip against your still sensitive cunt, and pushes into you slowly.

Whining at the feel of him stretching you, Wolffe reaches for your hands and grabs them tightly. Once he is fully inside you he gives you a moment to adjust to his size. Maker, he is huge. Squeezing his hands as a signal to move, he pulls his hips back softly before rolling back into your own. Slowly, Wolffe’s pace picks up and he’s thrusting into you deeply.

Your body bounces with every thrust he’s giving and you’re gripping his hands. Little whispers are being released from Wolffe’s mouth, telling you how good you are, how pretty you look, how you take him so well. He leans forward to kiss you once before moving his attention to your neck. He sucks a bruise right on your pulse point, causing a moan to slip through your mouth. Wolffe chuckles at this before grunting out, “you make the prettiest noises, sweet girl. You’re squeezing me so tight, cyare. I love this little pussy so much. That’s it, pretty girl. Don’t hold back those noises.” Wolffe accentuates his final sentence with thrusts that reach your sweet spot. He smiles at the noises you make once he hits that spot and he plans on keeping them tumbling out of your lips. Wolffe continues to mark up your neck, chest, collarbones, anywhere he can reach just to prove that you’re his.

Letting go of one of your hands, he reaches down to begin circling your clit. Wolffe lets out a strangled groan when you clench around him, not expecting to feel that tightness. He presses his forehead against yours as he pushes you closer to the edge for a second time. He stares into your eyes, and with a particular harsh thrust with the pressure on your clit, you’re cumming.

He finishes a few seconds later, thrusting still to ride out your orgasms. He finally pulls out and lays next to you. Catching your breaths, he turns towards you. You face him as well, waiting for him to say something, until he reaches for your cheek. Quickly reacting to his touch, you lean in and press a kiss to his palm. He gives you a small, tired smile before speaking up.

“Cyar'ika, what would I do without you?”

“Probably die.” you jokingly reply.

He pulls you into his chest, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, before sighing. “Yeah, you’re right. You are my lifeline, pretty girl.”

You lay a kiss on his sternum before resting your forehead against his chest. A much needed vacation.

#commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe imagine #clone wars imagine #clone wars

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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years

Text

Things We Didn’t Tell You Part 4

Harry Potter AU

Pairings: Sirius Black x Reader

Link to Part 3

Rating: M- smut

____

Lily looked up as you stormed out of the house. She had been sitting on a blanket with Harry and Demelza.

“Lily, I’m a woman on the edge.”

Lily winced. She knew that look well. That was the look that any woman who ever was mad at Sirius, for whatever reason, wore so well.

“Why don’t you step out for a little bit...go get some tea or something? There is a nice little tea shop around the corner. I’ll keep an eye on the kids. Oh, before I forget! A little birdy named James Potter told me that the house next door is going up for sale. It would be nice to, you know, be neighbors. When Sirius does something stupid, you can banish him to our couch.”

Lily was relieved when you smiled. The idea of having you a neighbor made Lily beyond happy. Not only would James and Sirius be able to do whatever they did together but Lily would have her own best friend within a few feet,

“I could return to favor when James does something stupid. Considering our choices in husbands, I think we are going to need to be able to help each other. I’ll be back.”

5 minutes later, you sat with a steaming cup of tea. You didn’t want to think of Sirius and Marlene as a couple. Overhearing that conversation certainly didn’t help your already fragile self esteem.

At least Sirius said that he loved you and that he didn’t love her.

That was at least one comforting thought. Even Lily said that she had never heard Sirius say I love you to anyone. It seemed like it took him a month to say it to you...maybe that was a good sign.

“What did he do?”

You looked up to see Regulus standing in front of you.

Great…

You thought. This was just the person that you didn’t want to see. You were still a bundle of nerves from the nightmare and now the main person in it sat across from you.

“Nothing.”

You replied. Regulus rolled his eyes as he leaned back in the chair. You didn’t want to look up at him but you couldn’t help it. It was almost painful to look at Regulus. All you could see was the friend that you lost as a child when he went crazy.

“Come on, Y/n. I’m not an idiot. You have been cold to me from the moment that I walked in James and Lily’s door. I figured that you would be pleased to see that I was admitting to be wrong about everything.”

“If you didn’t get into the dark arts then you wouldn’t have to admit that you were wrong in the first place.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, that’s what it is.”

You nodded.

“Yes! That is exactly what it is! Regulus, you were one of my best friends! You slipped right under my radar and that pisses me off!”

You wanted nothing more than to get up and shake Regulus until he saw your point of view.

“It pisses me off seeing you with my brother.”

“Regulus, don’t….”

He held up a hand.

“No, you need to hear this! I need to say it then we’ll never speak of it again. I loved you, Y/n. I loved you so damn much. You were the perfect girl. I had some vain hope that you would be willing to give me a shot now that I have my head screwed on right. I didn’t care that your brother is a werewolf or what my family said. I finally have the balls to tell my mum to piss off. I thought that you would be proud of me…”

“I am proud of you.”

You said, softly. For a moment, you didn’t want to reply. You were feeling like a bit of a hypocrite for getting mad at Sirius over his conversation with Marlene. Now here you sat having a similar one with Regulus.

Had it been a few years ago, there would have been a good chance that you would have accepted Regulus’ advances. Sirius was still going through his self confessed “hoe phase” and didn’t seem to see you in any light other than “Remus Lupin’s little sister who I like to annoy.” Regulus was the silent brooding sensitive type that you could talk about poetry too. If you tried to talk to Sirius about poetry, he would probably start laughing about how lame Romeo and Juliet were. You would have found that behavior appalling as a teen. Now you would probably giggle at Sirius’ humor. Regulus looked up.

“Why Sirius? I mean, I suppose I get it, he’s always been the good looking one. He has the best personality. I was always some closed minded weakling.”

“Regulus, stop! This isn’t healthy.”

Regulus chuckled.

“Why Sirius?”

His tone went sharp and cold. This was the Regulus Black that scared you. He was now going back into the “perfect son” mode. This was the man that judged you with each cold expression.

“Because I love him.”

You said, softly. Regulus rolled his eyes.

“I thought that you loved me too. I kissed you first.”

“Regulus, we were 13.”

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t go kissing random girls like another man that I know so well. Y/n, you don’t get it. You’ll never get it! You are 18 years old with a baby. Neither Sirius nor yourself needed to be having a child.”

You scooted your chair back like Regulus had slapped you.

“It is what it is! We are happy! Do you want to know why I picked your brother? I picked him because Sirius is a good man. Yes, he can be reckless at points but he’s a good lover and father. I matter to him and he isn’t afraid to tell me that. He didn’t run when I found out that I was pregnant.”

“I wouldn’t have run.”

Regulus snapped. You felt your face beginning to heat up.

“No, I didn’t think you would either but you would be totally closed off to that child just like your father was to you. You would let your mother be awful to me and to the kid! Sirius won’t let that happen. You know, I don’t think that you know your brother at all.”

“I know him better than you do, honey. I grew up with him.”

“You two don‘t have to fight over me. I’m right here.”

Both Regulus and yourself looked up to see Sirius standing right beside the table. Regulus went two shades paler before standing up and storming off.

“He’s so charming.”

Sirius said before taking the seat that Regulus had been occupying. It took all Sirius had not to laugh at the expression on your face.

“I take it you are still mad at me.”

You didn’t reply as Sirius scooted his chair beside you.

“Come on, love. You know how annoying I can be if you ignore me for a long time.”

Sirius leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek before moving down to your neck. You tried not to smile. Playing “hard to get” sounded like a great idea, however, your will was breaking down with each kiss and nibble.

“Please, love. That conversation with Marlene meant nothing. You heard me say that I love you and I think that you know I do.”

You giggled after a few more kisses. Sirius quickly sat up straight and laughed.

“There we go. I knew that I could crack that hard to get act.”

“You’re an ass.”

You said with a smile. Sirius nodded, eagerly.

“But you love me.”

“Yes, I do. It just hurt hearing you say that you cared so deeply for Marlene. What if those feelings start to change.”

Sirius’ smile faded immediately. He reached out and stroked his fingers over your hand.

“Love, I care for her as I care for Lily. That’s it. I understand how you feel though. Maybe I worry about Regulus as you do about Marlene.”

“What?”

You squeaked out. Sirius nodded. He absolutely hated admitting that he was worried (and maybe, just maybe, jealous). Sirius couldn’t stand the thought of Regulus touching you. The nightmares you had about did him in. Overhearing your conversion with Regulus today definitely didn’t help those feelings at all! While you said nothing that could have led Regulus on; knowing how his younger brother felt about you was painful.

“You heard me.”

Sirius replied, sadly. His grey eyes rolled to you almost pitifully.

“Sirius, I don’t love him. He’s still apparently stuck in 3rd year.”

“I didn’t know that he kissed you.”

Sirius said, sounding almost like a 13-year-old boy.

“Sirius, I don’t know who all has kissed you. I never told you because it didn’t matter. We were stupid kids then and it meant absolutely nothing to me.”

Sirius smiled.

“We would be here all day if you wanted me to tell you everyone that I have kissed. None of them mattered to me. Those pretty lips of yours are the only ones that matter to me now. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

“I’m sorry too.”

You whispered as Sirius leaned in for another kiss. He was the first to break the kiss but remained close to you.

“Maybe we can throw around that idea of actually getting married again? “

“I would like that.”

You replied before pulling him back into another kiss.

“I like that lipgloss.”

The two of you broke into a silent giggle. Sirius leaned back to kiss you again but froze. You, meanwhile, sat with your eyes closed waiting for his mouth to be back on yours. When nothing happened your eyes snapped open. Sirius sat straight up with a frown on his handsome face.

“Sweetheart?”

You questioned, softly. Sirius didn’t respond for a moment before quickly grabbing your hand.

“We have to go. Now.”

You were confused as Sirius tugged you to your feet.

“Sirius, what is going on? I am…”

“Hello, Sirius.”

You watched Sirius freeze before turning around and lightly shoving you behind him. Almost losing your balance, your face went into Sirius’ back at first. His hand was behind his back holding you in place. You didn’t recognize the voice and tried to figure out who it was.

“Hello, mother.”

Your heart froze. Walburga. You tried to wiggle away from your lover but Sirius wasn’t having any of that.

“It's lovely to see that you think that kind of behavior is appropriate in a public place.”

Sirius faked a shit-eating grin.

“It looks like you were the only one watching.”

Walburga chose to let his comment slide. She was more interested in just what her son had been up to for the past few years.

“Who do you have hiding back there? I’m going to figure out who she is so make this easier for both of us.”

Sirius’ hand let go of yours so you could slowly step out. Your eyes didn’t leave Walburga’s face. The last thing that you were about to do was give her any inclination that you were afraid of her. In the years that you had known Sirius, you had never met his mother, and judging by the expression on his face he didn’t want you to.

Your heart ached at the expression on Sirius’ face. He reminded you of the boy in the photos that you had seen. Sirius again looked like the boy that was done with everybody’s shit.

“You’re the werewolf’s sister aren’t you, child?”

Your attention went back to Walburga. She was beautiful. There was no doubt about that. The realization that Demelza resembled her grandmother a great deal was distressing.

“His name is Remus and he is my brother.”

Walburga didn’t smile. In fact, her expression was almost icy.

“Interesting choice in a wife. Regulus tells me that the two of you have a child.”

Sirius grabbed your hand again. He didn’t think that his mother would try something in front of all of these people but he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Yes.”

Walburga blinked. She half expected Regulus to be over-exaggerating due to his love and potential jealousy over you but she didn’t put it past her eldest son to knock up some disastrous girl.

“How interesting. Your father asked me to invite the two of you to dinner this evening.”

Sirius almost started laughing. What in the actual hell did his parents want to see him for? He was the person that they hated! First, they disown him now they wanted to see him? That was weird. Sirius automatically played through every scenario in his head and didn’t like any of them.

This would be the perfect chance to weasel some information about the other side.”

He thought after a few moments but he also didn’t like the idea of exposing Demelza or you to the viper's nest also known at 12 Grimmauld Place.

“Bring the child.”

Walburga said before turning and walking away without another word.

You, meanwhile, stood watching the woman walk away elegantly. What the actual hell was that? You quickly turned to Sirius.

“You can’t be considering this?”

Sirius sighed and sat back down.

“I don’t like the idea of it but we could get some information out of them. I can go alone.”

You shook your head.

“No! There is no way in hell that I am about to let you go near that woman alone. This would also be a wonderful chance for me to shove it in their smug faces that we don’t need them.”

“Is information really worth this?”

Sirius didn’t look at you. He was already questioning himself enough as it was

“Just don’t get out of my sight.”

You wanted to tell Sirius that this was a horribly reckless idea but didn’t. Judging from the expression on his face, he wouldn't want to hear it anyway. You could only hope that this wouldn’t be some horrible disaster that would wreck Sirius for a long time.

“YOU’RE WHAT?”

James yelled as he followed Sirius through the house. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This had to be the most insane idea ever!

“I may be able to get some information out of them. We need a win on our side.”

Sirius said calmly as he fiddled with the tie that he put on. James had stopped walking and was looking at his best friend as if he had gone totally insane.

“Sirius, you can’t go around those people. They’re insane! Like off the rails coo coo clock insane and you're taking your fiance and baby around them. What if they try to hurt Y/n or Demi?”

Sirius stopped walking and turned to his best friend.

“I’ll kill them. James, please, just go with me on this.”

James took off his glasses and rubbed his face in frustration.

“Sirius, I’m sorry but I am having a hard time here. The last time that we had anything to do with those people it resulted in you showing up at my doorstep half dead.”

You, meanwhile, at the kitchen door in case Sirius lost his temper. James had mentioned several times that Sirius had unfortunately inherited his short fuse from his mother and you were about to have ringside tickets to see this in person. You knew that Sirius wouldn’t hurt James in the slightest, however, you could calm him if things went too far.

“James, just let it be.”

James sighed.

“I suppose that Y/n and I will be here to pick up the pieces once this all goes to hell. Have a good time.”

James gave you a sympathetic smile before walking to the kitchen door. He stopped and looked down at you

“If things get worse, call me. I’ll be there in an instant.”

You nodded as James put a hand on your shoulder then went to join Remus in the kitchen. It didn’t take you being Remus Lupin’s sister to know that he wasn’t happy.

“Ready?”

Sirius’ voice pulled you from your thoughts. Had the situation not been so tense he would have made a witty comment about how amazing you looked in the black vintage cocktail dress that you were wearing. Tonight, however, he didn’t have it in him.

You only nodded as Remus stepped out and handed you Demelza. The poor baby had seemed to pick up on her father’s sullen mood. She looked between Sirius and yourself clearly observing the situation.

“It's alright, sweetheart. Daddy’s fine.”

You whispered, gently as you looked at the baby with a smile. She was dressed in sharp contrast to her parents. You had put her in a simple light blue dress that looked lively. Sirius and yourself looked like the two of you were going to a funeral.

“Doesn’t she look pretty?”

You whispered to Sirius; hoping the subject of his daughter would liven him up some. Sirius’ grey eyes flickered to Demelza.

“Yes.”

You remained silent the whole way to the Black’s home. Sirius was in no mood for talking. The expression on his face alone made your heart ache. This is what his face would look like all the time had he remained with his family. You would have killed for one of his dazzling smiles at the moment.

Standing on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place, neither of you moved to knock on the door. You looked around the neighborhood quietly before turning to your fiance. Sirius was staring at the door blankly.

“What do you suppose they are doing in there?”

You whispered. Sirius glanced over at you.

“Probably sacrificing a chicken to the dark lord.”

“Sirius!”

You snapped. He gave you an innocent shrug.

“You asked.”

He muttered. Taking a breath, you knew that all of this was a bad idea! The two of you needed to leave! There was no business the two of you needed to know that lurked in this home’s dark hallways.

“Sirius, please. Let's just go. This is madness. You’re not yourself. We made the decision a long time ago not to do something like this.”

“We’re already here, Y/n. She will come after us like a damned bloodhound if we don’t.”

Sirius reached out and finally knocked.

Your heart pounded as the next few moments passed in silence. When the door unlocked, you were half tempted to grab Sirius’ hand and apparate the hell out of there.

“Don’t.”

Sirius said sharply as if he was reading your mind. The door opened to reveal one of the meanest ugliest house elf that you had ever seen in your life. His squashed face turned into a cold sneer upon seeing Sirius.

“Master Sirius has returned. Kreacher knew that you would come crawling back.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. This elf was the last thing that he really wanted to deal with at the moment.

“I don’t know about crawling back.”

Sirius muttered as Walburga and Orion Black stepped into the room. One look at her made Sirius want to turn and run. He quickly took the baby out of your arms. If his mother tried anything sneaky, she would have another thing coming.

Walburga’s eyes immediately went to Demelza. She was relieved to see that the little girl looked like their family.

“You two actually came. We figured that you would conveniently forget.”

Walburga said, seeming almost bored. Sirius wanted to say something snarky but decided not to. He glanced over to you and immediately felt guilty. You looked terrified. Sirius internally wondered what the hell he was thinking? He was putting his lover and daughter in danger to see exactly what his parents were up to.

“So is this her?”

Orion’s voice broke his son’s thoughts. Sirius focused his attention on Demelza. The baby was looking in between her parents and grandparents before shoving her face in his shoulder.

Babies can sense evil.

Sirius internally smiled at the thought.

“Yes. This is your granddaughter Demelza.”

Orion nodded.

“She’s a pretty girl. Come, dinner should be ready.”

When Sirius held his hand out for you, you immediately grabbed it. You looked around the house quietly. Everything about it reeked of depression and desolate darkness. There was no wonder that Sirius wanted to run away and Regulus went around the twist.

What seemed to bother you even more was the lack of any hint of Sirius’ existence. Part of you had always hoped that Sirius was in some way exaggerating his parent’s actions of disownment. From where you stood, you could see Sirius’ name being blown off of the family tapestry. You swallowed feeling slightly light headed.

“Alright?”

Sirius’ voice pulled you from your thoughts. He looked down at you sympathetically as you nodded.

Walburga meanwhile, watched as the two of you whispered quietly. Sirius was the first to step away as he pulled out a chair for you. As much as she wanted to be prideful that her eldest son had apparently turned out halfway decent, however, her pride wouldn’t let her.

She let her attention drift toward you. You were a pretty girl; she had to give you that. She could see how you looked at Sirius with love in your eyes. Cute...Walburga could not, however, excuse the fact that you were a half blood and the sister of a werewolf. You had given her a grandchild and that was enough for Walburga. If she got her way, she would make sure that the two of you would be broken up sooner rather than later. The same thing would have happened if you had ended up with Regulus.

The front door opening and closing pulled Walburga out of her cruel thoughts. Regulus stepped into the dinning room with a curt nod.

“Darling, I was wondering when you would get here.”

Walburga said, putting extra emphasis on the word darling. She would never let Sirius forget that he was not her favorite.

“My apologies, mum.”

Regulus glanced at you before quickly looking at. He had met Sirius’ scowl and knew that he better keep things polite. His brother didn’t look like he was ready to play friendly games.

Orion had finally decided to pay attention.

“So what is your name?”

You looked up from Demelza who you had been keeping yourself busy with.

“Y/n Lupin.”

Orion frowned.

“Lupin. That name sounds familiar.”

You had made a silent promise to yourself that you wouldn’t let Walburga or Orion see how nervous you were. They wouldn't see you panic.

“Her brother is one of my best friends.”

Sirius said, quickly. Orion gave his son a disapproving scowl.

“She can answer for herself. How old are you?”

“!8”

You said, softly. Walburga glanced at Regulus, who was looking down at his plate. There was rage in his eyes that his mother had identified as jealousy. Her poor sweetboy still loved the girl that his older brother had obviously stolen.

“So the same age as our Regulus. The two of you must have known each other.”

Walburga said, her eyes not leaving Regulus who had finally looked up. Meanwhile, you nodded as Sirius’ hand slid onto your leg.

“Yes ma’am. We did know each other.”

You put extra emphasis on the word “did.” After the conversation with Regulus earlier in the day it was painfully obvious that you didn’t know him half as well as you had thought.

Orion finally came back into the conversation. He wasn’t about to let the issue of your name go.

“I don’t remember that name. Is your family pure blood.”

“Father.”

Sirius started but Orion, however, cut him off.

“Let the woman speak. She’s a big girl.”

You erased your hand on top of Sirius’.

“I’m half blood. My mother is a muggle.”

You internally winced at the cold expression on Orion and Walburga’s faces. Regulus sunk down in his chair as if his father was about to throw something at you.

“I see. So are the two of you married?”

Sirius had a feeling that he knew where this was going and automatically felt his temper begin to raise.

“Not yet but we will be...soon.”

Orion crossed his arms over his chest.

“Soon? Next week? 3 months from now? Never? Or do you plan to just keep her as some whore who will produce illegitimate children for you?””

You could feel all of the color drain from your face at Orion’s comment. Regulus’ mouth had dropped too. The two of you locked eyes briefly. Neither dared to look at Sirius. You were waiting for Regulus to put the salad bowl in front of him on his head and wait for the world to end.

Sirius’ hand squeezed your thigh almost painfully as he tried to calm himself...however it didn’t work.

He stood up quickly; letting the chair that he was in fall to the floor. “That’s it. I was a fool to think that you lot had changed. You will not talk to her like that! I won’t allow it. Come on, love. Looks like happy family time is over.”

Sirius reached down and pulled you to your feet. You winced as he practically pulled you along with him.

“Sirius, please.”

You whimpered. Sirius quickly realized that his hellish temper was quickly getting out of control and gently returned you to your feet with a quiet sorry. His mother and father were after the two of you like rabid dogs.

“Sirius, if you leave now then you will be disowned again. This is your chance to fix the wrongs you cause as a teenanger.”

Sirius turned back to you with apologetic eyes.

“Love, take the baby and wait for me outside.”

“Sirius, I…”

He put a hand on the side of your face before kissing you gently.

“Everything is just fine. Just wait outside, please”

You reluctantly nodded as Sirius kissed Demelza’s now messy curls. The last thing that you wanted to do was leave him with these people but it seemed that you didn’t have a choice.

When the door closed behind you, everything was suddenly very quiet. You wrapped Demelza tightly in her blanket. Since the sun had gone down, it had become very chilly outside.

“Everything is fine, sweetheart.”

You said softly to the baby. It was more for you than Demelza. She, afterall, had no idea what in the world was going on.

After a few moments, Sirius stepped out. He looked up at you with a nod before holding out his arm.

“Come on.”

Sirius was silent the whole way back to James and Lily’s. Just looking at the expression on his face told you not to ask questions.

James and Remus looked up the moment that the two of you stepped in. Sirius quickly walked up the stairs and closed the bedroom door behind him. James stood and looked after his best friend before turning to you.

“I take it things didn’t go well.”

You snorted.

“That is putting things lightly.”

Remus stood and held out his arms for Demelza.

“I’ll take care of her. You go deal with him.”

Demelza eagerly went to Remus. You were relieved that she quickly took to her uncle as if he had been with her from day one.

“Thanks, guys.”

You said softly before walking up the stairs

Sirius stood by the window with a cigarette in one hand while looking out furiously. You looked at your fiance and took a breath before speaking.

“You haven’t done that since Demi was born.”

“Please don’t start with me, Y/n.”

Sirius snapped, not even bothering to look at you. Deciding to pick and choose your battles, you slowly stepped out of your high heels.

“We are all worried about you. James is ready to go downtown and kick your father’s ass and Remus is making mental notes on where to visit during the next full moon.”

Sirius laughed. He wasn’t surprised by that comment.

“If they wouldn’t get locked up in prison, I wouldn't complain too much.”

You swallowed.

“Sirius, whatever they said to you...none of it's true and I really don’t care about what they said to me. Opinions are like assholes.”

“You didn’t deserve it though.”

Sirius said, sadly. He tossed the cigarette out the window before turning to look at you. The soul sucking guilt hit him like a sack of rocks to the stomach. If only his parents knew how wonderful you were; they wouldn't be calling you a whore.

You shrugged.

“Like I said, love, their opinions mean nothing to me.”

You stepped closer to Sirius and began unbuttoning the dress shirt that he had on.

“What are you doing?”

He asked softly. Your green eyes rolled up to his face.

“I’m getting you naked. You’re going to make rough angry love to me then we are going to go to sleep and pretend this day didn’t happen.”

Sirius smirked.

“You want me to make rough angry love to you?”

You nodded and reached behind you to unzip the dress. When the fabric hit the floor, you kicked it in another direction before laying back on the bed.

“Come here...come get what's yours.”

Sirius didn’t need anymore encouragement. He quickly kicked the pants he was wearing on the floor. Angry sex didn’t sound too bad aftreall.

You gasped as Sirius slammed in. He roughly yanked you thigh over his hip and set up a steady angry pace. You closed your eyes enjoying everything that he had to give you. Angry sex whenever one of you suffered a inconvince in your life was always a go to solution for comfort.

“Sirius, I can’t….”

He growled against your neck.

“Come already woman! I can’t wait!”

It took one more deep thrust to have you spiraling out of control.

When you could think straight, you slowly sat up enough to press a kiss to Sirius’ cheek. When he didn’t smile or kiss you back; you knew that he was still upset. You quickly took your place beside him and snuggled against his chest.

“Was it not good for you?”

“Check between your legs and you’ll have your answer.”

Sirius said coldly. The response was a little shocking. You knew damn well he came inside of you but that didn’t make sex “good.”

“Okay....good night then.”

You quickly turned on your opposite side. Sirius, meanwhile, looked at you back. He was immediately ashamed of his behavior. It wasn’t your fault that his parents emotionally wrecked him again. You were just trying to be a good lover.

“Fuck it.”

Sirius muttered before getting out of bed and pulling on his abandoned pants. He needed air and being this close to you, upset over him, was more than Sirius could handle at the moment.

_______

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years

Text

“The road to our forever” - Chapter 5

Summary: John and Darcie are planning their wedding, but it comes with certain ups and downs.

John Wick x OFC Darcie

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: none

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

When John got married to Helen, she wore a lovely white gown, very simple, but very classy. He always thought that she was going to be his one and only bride.

But now he looks at his fiancée Darcie, who is already talking to Raye and Jennie on the phone, while she is packing her bag with pictures of the bridal gowns that she thinks are a good fit for her. He heard something about a mermaid cut, but he doesn’t know enough about it to know exactly what that means.

‘No,’ he hears Darcie say, ‘that doesn’t mean bad luck. I don’t even believe in that sort of crap. Remember one day at school, when it was Friday the 13th, and everyone was being so superstitious and I walked underneath a ladder to pet a black cat and somehow I survived? I mean, it’s bullshit anyway. So yeah, John is going to be there.’ She looks over her shoulder, to send him a beautiful smile. ‘I feel like he should have a say in this. Well, Raye, I know that you don’t agree, but when you marry Aurelio, you can do it exactly the way you want. I mean, weren’t you fantasizing about a first date with him? And you know everything starts with a first date.’ She starts to laugh and John falls in love with her a little more. ‘Okay, girls, I’ll see you there. Love you, bye.’

Darcie hangs up the phone and crouches down to give Tiki a kiss. ‘Mommy is going to try on some dresses and I wish I could take you with me, but you and clothes are not the greatest combination.’ Darcie looks up at John and says: ‘Learned that the hard way.’

John walks up to her and holds out his hands for her to take. When she’s standing up, he leans down to give her a kiss on her lips. ‘I have a confession to make.’

Darcie starts to laugh. ‘I know: you are nervous.’

John is slightly taken aback from that. How does she know?

‘You are going to be my husband and finally, after not even two years together, I can distinguish your facial expressions. Took me awhile, but I’m getting there.’ She chuckles. ‘You don’t want to come with me today? That’s totally okay, I mean, I’m not going to force you.’

John exhales deeply. When he proposed to Darcie, he wanted to spend all of his time with her, being able to call her his wife… That’s a dream for him, but when she is going to wear a wedding dress, it’ll be more real. ‘It’s nothing, sweetheart.’

‘Oh no,’ she says. ‘There is something on your mind and I can’t handle the thought of you brooding on something and not letting me in. Come on, honey, tell me about it.’ She sits on the table, so she’s about the same height as he is and pulls him between her legs, hooking them together behind him. ‘I’m not letting you go until you tell me.’

John lets out a small laugh. ‘Cutie,’ he whispers, kissing her forehead. ‘I just thought about Helen and our wedding day.’

She nods. ‘Right. I bet she looked beautiful on your wedding day.’

‘She did,’ he admits. He places his forehead against hers and sighs deeply. ‘When Helen and I got married, I thought that was it. That day I looked at her in her wedding dress, I thought that was the beginning of my new life. My new future. Then she passed away and years later… I met you. I just thought about us as a couple and when I proposed I thought of us as an engaged couple.’

John can’t seem to find the right words, but somehow Darcie can. ‘And you thought that poof, one day, you and I were married and then poof, we had kids and we’d be a settled couple. But the wedding itself… That scares you a bit, am I right?’

John sighs. ‘Yeah, a bit.’

‘Don’t you want a big wedding? And please be honest with me.’

‘No, I want a big wedding,’ he says, ‘because I want to show everyone that we want to invite how much I love you. I think I was just a little bit nervous, I guess.’

‘Understandably so,’ she laughs. ‘I mean, I’m nervous too.’

‘You are?’

‘Yeah. I mean, you are the most handsome man I’ve ever met, the most thoughtful man, the kindest. The fact that after our wedding I get to call you my husband… I can’t comprehend it sometimes. Besides, sometimes I wonder when you are going to be sick of me.’

‘Never,’ he whispers. ‘Never ever ever am I going to be sick of you.’

‘Sure?’

‘Sure.’ He glances at the clock. ‘When are we leaving?’

‘In two hours,’ she says, ‘but I have to get ready, because after the appointment, we have to go to work right away.’ Darcie raises her eyebrows. ‘Why?’

‘Just wanted to show you how not sick of you I am,’ John whispers against her neck.

‘John,’ she whines. ‘Really?’

‘Please,’ he begs, before pressing sloppy kisses on her sensitive skin in the nape of her neck.

She pushes his shirt up, her nails digging in his back. ‘Well,’ she says, ‘just make it quick.’

⟢⟡⟣

Even after a long shower, a breakfast and the drive to the store, her cheeks are just as flushed as they were right after they were done. The fact that he is going to be fifty three in a matter of months and he still manages to wear her out like this, he can’t help but beam with pride. He shouldn’t think too much about Darcie quivering underneath him, strangled sobs leaving her lips, because he knows that Raye will notice and if she knows, she’ll not be subtle about it.

He knows.

Darcie mindlessly splays with his fingers. ‘You are still smiling,’ she mentions.

‘We had fun and I’m still enjoying it,’ John laughs. ‘Besides, you’re still blushing.’

Darcie snorts. ‘I hope the blush fades,’ she says. ‘I know that Raye will notice and know exactly what happened to me. If she were a normal friend, I could just mention Aurelio’s name and she’d be embarrassed. Not her. She’ll just give you the details of her dirty dreams about him. I mean, I’m really happy that they swapped numbers, but her work is already lacking. The man barely left and she was glued to her phone.’

John smiles. ‘Can you imagine,’ he starts, ‘that those two start dating and we can go out on double dates?’

‘You want to go on double dates?’ she asks. ‘Really?’

‘Really,’ he confirms. ‘How is Jennie doing by the way? You told her about the apartment yet?’

‘No, not yet. She seems okay, a little silent, so please keep an eye on her during the appointment, okay? I’m really worried.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know, she looks constantly tired, but when I ask her how she is, she just shrugs and continues. I know my best friend and I know something is bothering her, but I can’t seem to figure out what exactly and that is so frustrating.’

‘When were you planning on telling her about the apartment?’

‘I think tonight, after the cafe closed. Will you be there when I tell her?’

‘Of course.’ John smiles at her. The fact that Darcie wants to give her the apartment, without Jennie having to pay for it, makes his heart swell. Though she keeps scolding him for buying her things too extravagant, she somehow manages to accept the fact that he is rich and she can spend their money.

They arrive at the store, only to see her parents there already. John grows nervous, wiping his hands on his jeans.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asks.

‘Just… Nothing.’

John really wants to tell her, he does, but somehow he can’t. He already shared too much this morning. He isn’t afraid of marrying her, he is just afraid that it will not last, because she’ll be taken away from him sooner or later.

He knows it’s stupid, he knows that he got a second chance and he will enjoy every moment of it, but he can’t help but to be pessimistic. How many times had the future disappointed him already?

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, baby, let’s have fun, okay?’ He leans over to peck her lips and he whispers: ‘Don’t worry, your blush is already fading.’

John gets out of the car and opens the door of the passengers side, holding out his hand for the future bride, who keeps on getting more beautiful every second. He holds her hand tightly in his, while they walk to her parents.

‘John,’ Christian says, ‘I still love your car.’

‘Well,’ Darcie butts in, wrapping her arms around her mother, ‘if you didn’t work so much, you’d be able to drive in it.’

‘Munchkin, munchkin,’ her dad laughs, as he holds her tightly when he pulls her into a hug.

It’s obvious that these two love their daughter very much, but Darcie once confided to John that sometimes it was hard for her to be by herself around the house that much. They both worked a lot, leaving Darcie on her own and that’s one thing that John absolutely doesn’t want for their kids.

He wants to be there for them and wants them to feel safe enough to share their problems with him, just like Greg and Roger keep confessing their insecurities about their relationships to John. Though John isn’t really the most experienced man on that topic, he does know quite a few tricks that work on Darcie and since those guys chose girls that are quite like her, it’s easy for him to help them out. He loves it to help them out. There are things that they share with him and not their parents, like their college applications and all. If he enjoys it this much already with someone else’s kids, imagine how much he would love it for his own kids.

The idea of missing out on all that…

‘John, are you alright?’ Somi asks, placing her hand on his arm. Her cast is removed, but it’s still bandaged. It was quite a nasty fracture, but the healing process is going swiftly. ‘You look… Tired.’

‘Couldn’t sleep tonight, that’s all,’ he says, though it’s a lie. He is tired. He is tired of his mind that keeps on running and running and running, constantly going back to the negative parts of life. His past. His future without Darcie.

It’s driving him crazy. Every now and then he can forget about his worries, but it’s there. Constantly there.

‘Mister and Mrs. Mustang!’ Raye yells from across the street and both her and Jennie are waiting for the traffic lights to go green.

‘Mom,’ John hears Darcie say, ‘we’ve been thinking about giving Jennie the apartment, since John and I bought a house.’

‘Yes, we saw the pictures of the house. Congratulations, sweetheart. I know for a fact that you two are going to be so happy living there.’ Somi pinches Darcie in her cheek. It seems to take a few extra seconds before she says: ‘You’re going to give Jennie the apartment?’

‘Yeah, you know how she is struggling and I figured that it would be good for her to have her own place.’

‘Munchkin,’ her father says, ‘you are a true sweetheart.’

The six of them walk into the bridal store, where a female consultant is already waiting for them. She shows the five guests where they can sit, before she takes Darcie with her for a brief consultation. Darcie is nearly skipping when they walk into the long hallway.

‘I can’t wait for her to come out,’ Raye says. ‘I hope she goes for something really sexy.’

‘It’s almost insulting how little you know about our friend,’ Jennie mumbles, who is sitting next to John.

While Raye keeps on chatting about dresses with Christian and Somi, John observes Jennie for a while, noticing her staring at the floor. ‘What’s wrong, Jennie?’ he quietly asks, so the rest can’t hear them.

She looks up. ‘Nothing.’

He cocks an eyebrow, causing Jennie to sigh deeply. ‘You don’t have to talk about it now,’ he quickly adds, ‘but please know that we are there for you.’

Jennie clears her throat and says: ‘Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.’ For a brief second she looks him in the eyes and he detects only sadness and a lot of pain. ‘Darcie has been worried, hasn’t she?’

John nods. ‘Me too.’

‘It’s nothing I can’t handle.’ Jennie pats his leg and says: ‘She doesn’t have to worry. I know she does and it makes her such a great friend, but it’s not necessary.’

He wants to ask her something else, but he hears Raye squeal out of excitement and when he looks up, he sees his fiancée in a long white dress, that hugs her figure in all the right places. The neckline is pretty deep and from the look on her face, she hates it. She has her hand placed over her cleavage and the red blush is back on her cheeks. ‘Raye, I didn’t know you called the store and asked them specifically to put aside this dress so I had to put this on.’

‘Well, you look smokin’ hot, don’t you think, mister Mustang?’

John really has a lot to say about this dress (for starters how good Darcie’s ass looks in it), but his parents-in-law are here and he doesn’t want to embarrass her and he doesn’t want her parents to think any less of him. ‘You don’t look comfortable in the dress,’ he says, ‘and you have to wear the dress the entire day, so I’d rather you look comfortable.’

Darcie smiles at him. ‘This is why I wanted him here,’ she tells Raye. ‘I still can’t believe you went behind my back like that.’

‘I’m your friend,’ Raye says, ‘I’m supposed to do that.

⟢⟡⟣

Darcie already fitted three other dresses, but none of those were perfect. Sure, she looked gorgeous in every single one of them, but they didn’t look like the dress for her. John can’t sit for much longer on the uncomfortable couch, but the saleswoman said that she only had one dress left and if that isn’t the one, they can come back next Sunday.

‘Oh my God,’ Raye squeaks and he looks up from the mannequin he was mindlessly staring at. His breath gets caught in his throat.

Darcie looks like a Greek goddess. The dress is a tight fit until her waist and flows until it reaches the floor. He knew that she didn’t want to wear a strapless dress and the thin straps are covered in the same fabric as the bottom of her dress.

She stands on the pedestal and looks in the mirror. Through the reflection, he sees she’s emotional. ‘Oh my God,’ he hears Jennie mutter beside him.

Darcie turns around and has a smile on her face. ‘Dad, are you crying?’

As if they are one person, they all look at Christian, who as tears in his eyes. ‘No,’ he says, but his voice crack tells them otherwise.

Somi grabs some tissues and adds: ‘Good thing I’m not going to work today, because I would probably look like a puffy mess the entire day. Sweetheart, you look beautiful. Like a true bride.’

‘You think this is the dress?’ Raye asks. ‘Because I so desperately want to ask that particular question.’

‘You selfish bitch,’ Jennie laughs.

‘Well,’ Darcie says, ‘I love the dress.’ She carefully looks at John. ‘What do you think?’ she asks. ‘I mean, you have to marry me, so you better love this dress as well.’

‘You’re already wearing a suit, mister Mustang,’ Raye says. ‘Go stand next to her, so we get an idea.’

John pushes himself off the couch and stands in front of her. ‘God, you are so beautiful,’ he whispers. ‘I was already planning on marrying you, but if you look like this…’

‘So I take it you like it,’ she says.

‘I love it.’ He gives her a kiss and they look in the mirror. He wraps his arm around her waist and says: ‘We look like we could get married right away.’

‘We certainly do.’

‘Can I ask the damn question?’ Raye intervenes in their little moment together.

John chuckles and Darcie says, after she rolled her eyes: ‘Sure.’

‘Are you saying yes to this dress?’

John looks to the side and watches his fiancée as she says: ‘I’m saying yes to this dress.’

⟢⟡⟣

John can tell by the way Darcie is fidgeting, she is nervous. She does want to tell Jennie about the apartment, but somehow can’t seem to find the right words nor the right time to tell her about it. John can’t really look at it any longer, because honestly, he desperately wants to tell Jennie about it. He wanted to tell her about it in the bridal store already, but he knew Darcie wanted to be there.

‘Jennie,’ he says, ‘Darcie and I want to tell you something.’

His fiancée looks at him like she is ready to skin him alive, but when he simply cocks an eyebrow, she realizes she can’t procrastinate any longer.

‘You’re pregnant,’ Raye guesses.

‘Oh my God, no, I’m not pregnant.’ Darcie crosses her arms in front of her chest, as she looks at her blonde friend. ‘Why would we only tell Jennie about that anyways?’

‘Fair point, sorry. Please continue.’

‘What do you want to tell me?’ Jennie says, leaning against the table.

‘Well,’ Darcie starts, ‘you know how we bought a house right?’

Jennie nods. ‘Yes, it’s absolutely beautiful. John showed us some more pictures when you were trying on the dresses back in the fitting room. Raye wants to swim in your indoor pool, but you know how she is.’

‘Raye Clarke, you cannot skinny dip in our indoor pool,’ Darcie warns Raye.

Sometimes John is impressed by the way Darcie and her friends know one another. Darcie can warn Raye before she can share what’s on her mind. Jennie knows how Darcie will react to something, before it even happened. Raye has some sort of antennas when it comes to certain things that happened (for example when they had a sex right before work the other day).

‘However,’ Darcie continues, ‘since we are moving out of our apartment around my birthday… We decided that…’

John wraps an arm around Darcie’s shoulders and finishes her sentence by saying: ‘We want you to move into the apartment.’

‘What?’ Jennie asks, while Raye starts to jump in excitement, screaming: ‘Oh my God, that is so fucking awesome!’

‘We heard about how you were struggling and you always said how much you loved the apartment. Since we’re moving into the other house soon, we figured you might want that place,’ Darcie says. ‘We’ll help you move and all, so don’t you worry about that.’

Jennie has tears in her eyes. ‘No,’ she says, ‘you guys, I can’t accept that.’

Darcie walks to her friend, to pull her into a tight hug. ‘Yes, you can,’ she whispers. ‘You deserve a nice place.’

‘It’s too much.’

‘It’s not.’ Darcie gives Jennie a kiss on her cheek. ‘Please, Jen, you have to accept it. I don’t want to see you struggle like this.’

Raye wraps her arms around Darcie and Jennie. ‘You are the sweetest and kindest person in the world,’ she adds. ‘You do so much for other people, you deserve this.’

‘You sure it’s not too much?’ Jennie asks.

‘No,’ John butts in. ‘Really, we want you to live in that apartment.’

Jennie wiggles herself out of Darcie and Raye’s embrace and hugs John tightly. ‘Thank you,’ she whispers. ‘Thank you so much, John.’

John smiles, as he wraps his arms around her shoulders. ‘Of course, Jennie. Everything for friends.’

Taglist: @toomanystoriessolittletime // @flhorah // @allie1804-fan // @cynic-spirit // @raven-black102

#keanu reeves x oc #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x original character #keanu reeves x ofc #john wick x oc #john wick fanfic #john wick #john wick x original character #john wick x ofc #the road to our forever

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serasaka · 4 years

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Thomas MacLaine / Francis York Morgan fanfiction.. because there’s an alarming lack of it and I adore Thomas.

York sat tied to the dingy chair, blindfolded. He tried once – twice, several times – to strain against the thin ropes bounding his wrists and ankles, but nothing gave; he only succeeded in chafing his skin. Somewhere deep down he knew, calmly, that help would eventually arrive – he knew Emily would be especially be looking for him – but when, he could not precisely tell.

“Zach, we’re not going anywhere anytime soon, so I guess we should just take a few minutes to think,” he dialogued to his inner lifelong friend. It was not unusual for York to hold dialogue with Zach, often out-loud and in front of others. He never gave it a second thought – their bond was as such that if one spoke, then there was an obligation to include or consult the other, no matter the subject. Even if the topic seemed as out of place as quietly musing while clearly kidnapped and held against one’s will.

York’s persona was, to put it one way: Unconventional.

In the right corner of the small room, he heard the old metal door open. Instinctively, he looked in that direction, even though he should have expected not to be able to see. To his surprise, however, the rag used to blindfold him was semi-sheer. A tall, thin frame glided in on delicately-clacking stilettoes; it wore a long, red silk dress, the same one the club singer Carol wore, but their hair seemed too short. The excessively-feminine gait in the stride was the key clue.

“Thomas,” York calmly called out to the red-silk figure, “I know that you’re there.”

Thomas stopped at those words, directly in front of York, and stared at him, a hand on his hip.

“Your disposition is none of my concern,” continued York, “but you do need to stop this.” York tried instinctively to gesticulate, but his tethered arm spoke for him. “Untie me. Let me go. Right now,” he softly commanded. “And you and Carol should take off. Go as far away as you can.”

Thomas kept staring, unmoved.

“Open a bar or a diner in a new town,” advised the bound FBI agent, “with your cooking, I know you’d do well.”

Thomas shifted. He was quite fond of cooking, after all, albeit very shy about his talent. He managed to floor York with his outstanding, buttery biscuits at the police station one morning, and ever since Thomas’ cheeks could not help but pinken at the thought.

The red-dressed man leaned in close, meeting York eye-to-eye through the blindfolds. Thomas could not see York’s eyes very clearly, but the FBI agent could see his. They had become softened. York could even smell the rouge on Thomas’ lips.

“Why, thank you, York,” Thomas responded, his voice painted with a thin layer of feminine warmth. York had not heard him speak with such a lilt before, but presumably because Thomas was otherwise hiding his true self at his day job with the station. “You’re so kind. Unlike… him.”

Him. ‘Love G.’ …George, York dialoged inwardly with Zach.

“If I had someone like you, things may not have come to this,” Thomas added, a peck of derangement in his sweet voice.

The red-dressed man took a few steps to the FBI agent’s left, turned back and asked, “York, have you ever been in love with someone?”

York did his best to ignore the thump in his chest.

“Thomas…” York tried to implore to the lovely, maddened man. “A long time ago, I witnessed two people that I really cared about die. Both pretty much at the same time. And since then…” as he spoke, Thomas paced to the other side of the room, off to York’s right. “…I’ve tried not to care about anyone so deeply.”

Thomas stopped and turned again, looking directly at the bound agent, hand on hip. York continued, “But recently, that way of thinking has changed.”

“Emily, right?” Thomas asked, sweetly but with a poisonous seethe beneath it, “she’s a nice girl.” He strutted back up to York and, leaning in again to meet his face: “You’d be better off not falling in love with her.”

His words hit York where it hurt, though he dared not show it. He knew – Emily was not in love with him, after all: She was in love with ‘York.’ No… The real ‘York’ was actually Zach. The FBI agent knew, despite the friendly rivalry the two shared, that Emily would choose the confident, handsome ego ‘York.’

This made York feel hurt and guilty. Zach, he dialogued, Thomas is right, isn’t he? I… We… would just end up losing her, too. Somehow. Wouldn’t we?

Ever the profiling genius, York detected the trace of pain in Thomas’ words. Love G… George was, without a doubt, the New Raincoat Killer of Greenvale. Yet, he was also the object of sweet Thomas’ affections. Too bad, Zach, York inwardly dialogued. Their relationship was clearly abusive. Even Thomas deserves better.

Meanwhile, Thomas had stood straight again and went to walk away, satisfied with the FBI agent’s brooding silence. Snapped back to the present at the sound of the red-dressed man’s clicking stilettoes:

“Thomas…” York called out gently. The other man stopped and looked back, stone-faced. York carefully proceeded, “Your ‘Love G’… He used you, didn’t he?”

Thump.

A wisp of hurt spread over Thomas’ face. His confident, statuesque stance sunk; his shoulders caved into his chest, and he rubbed his left arm with his right hand. He turned about and clicked slowly back to York, looking down at him in the face. York’s blindfolded gaze was lifted to his as well, but the image of the red-dressed man was still raggedy.

Zach, I think we reached him, the FBI agent rationalized. Now’s our chance to get him to free us!

Even York knew that playing the empathy card with a deranged person could be dangerous, if said-deranged person picked up any whiff of betrayal. Yet he knew in his own heart he was not being deceitful…

…Thump. Thump.

“…York,” Thomas finally spoke after what felt like an eternity, “he… That is, G…” He paused to drop his head to the side, as was his wont when the two first met. Through the dingy blindfold rag, York could see glints of light on the red-dressed man’s cheeks, flickering for a second and then gone. Wet sparks.

Silence again. York watched through the blindfold as Thomas continued to collapse inward on himself, little by little. The FBI’s hunch on having reached him was undoubtedly correct, so long as it lasted long enough to get him free. Now to convince Thomas to untie him.

“…Hey,” York started softly, causing the other man to flick his eyes back to him. “Come here. Come closer.”

Automatically – obediently – Thomas slowly stepped closer.

Thump. Thu-thump.

Okay, Zach, York dialogued. I hope you’ll still be with me for this.

“Thomas… sit down.”

The briefest spark of confusion zapped across the red-dressed man’s face, before his cheeks began dusting pink. He gave a conservative hoist of the skirt and sat down. Right on York’s lap.

Thump. Thump.

He felt that, like an echo through their bodies.

Thomas was keeping his hands pulled into his lap, suddenly unsure; he bit the corner of his lower lip, staring pleadingly at York’s face. “Wh… what do you want from me?...” More wet sparks, this time long enough and close enough for the FBI agent to see them drop off his jawline. Thomas looked at his lap. “…Don’t toy with me. Don’t do this to me… G, he has already caused enough p-pain…”

THUMP-thump.

More tears fell from Thomas’ jawline; York could feel them hit his chest through his blazer. Thomas turned a deeply-wounded gaze back to the FBI agent, grieved to have even said the words he just did. “I… I can’t take much more…” His chest heaved a sharp sigh. “What… what did I do?... Where did I go wrong?...”

Thump.

“Just… lean on me,” York soothed. “I promise, I won’t hurt you like George did.”

Thomas stared at him, pupils blown wide and lined with tears. He carefully stood up only to hike his dress up enough to comfortably straddle the bound man’s lap. He leaned his full torso onto York, one arm wrapped around the broad shoulders; his free hand placed over York’s heart, the slender fingers sliding gently inside the blazer.

THUMP. Thump… thump!... THUMP. THU-THUMP…

York could feel their heat combine; he could feel both of their heartbeats in his stomach. The silk dress made a pleasant sound as it slid into the tough cotton fabric of the blazer. It made his breathing tremble.

Zach, do I… he began to dialogue. He did not have to finish; both personas knew the answer. But, no… I can’t, I!... Can I?...

“Thomas, if you free me, I can help you,” York attempted at last. It was risky to be so forward in an especially sensitive moment. Something in his gut reassured him that the red-dressed man on his lap was no longer maddened, but logically he could never be sure. “I can help Carol, too,” he pressed, knowing that Thomas was fiercely protective of her. Surely, the loyal brother would only want his dear sister to be safe.

“She’s gone,” Thomas whispered sadly.

“G did it,” York answered.

He felt the man on his lap nod into his shoulder and neck. Two puffs of harsh breath escaped Thomas; he began to sob silently. A minute passed in otherwise morbid silence. Then, Thomas lifted himself up over York, so that his face was mere inches from the FBI agent and looking down into his blindfolded eyes.

“…York…” Thomas breathed.

Thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump.

The bound man felt hands slowly slither their way up behind his head and fuss with the rag’s knot. With a soft tug from Thomas’ fingers, the blindfold fell away, snaking off of York’s face right to the floor. The two men were now completely eye-to-eye.

Thomas was beautiful. His tear-stained cheeks, tinted with mascara, were blushed enough to be seen in the dimly-lit room. All was quiet around the two; time stood still. Not a sound was heard, except…

Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump… …Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-THUMP –

They were back to being chest-to-chest as well. Thomas still had a soft, pleading look in his eyes as he stared down at the bound man beneath him. His fingers traced up to behind York’s head again, this time to softly grip his neck, behind his ears, the corners of his jaw. A dewy rouge lip touched York’s, sticking for a millennium-long second. Thomas’ warm breath, tinged with alcohol, blew into York’s mouth. Likewise, the cigarette-tinged breath from York blew into Thomas’.

The red-dressed man took a brief, shuddered breath; then, as if breathing the words into the FBI agent’s waiting mouth:

“…You couldn’t learn to love me, could you?”

York’s eyelids flitted up in surprise. Who couldn’t love Thomas, Zach? He dialogued inwardly. He’s sensitive, lovely, gifted…

THU-THUMP.

He likes the bad boys, I think. That’s why he loved ‘G’, George. Someone bigger, stronger, more imposing and controlling; someone to pull him from his comfort zone, and show him adventure… Somebody unlike himself, it seems.

York paused his conversation with Zach to tilt his head slightly and stare deeper into Thomas’ waiting eyes.

…Poor Thomas.

Even though the two men had only known each other for a short time, York – with his savant-like profiling gift – was able to glean a lot of information about Thomas’ personality, just by observing his quirks, listening to his responses to questions, or watching him coquettishly work around him and George. York found himself fondly smirking at the shy officer, especially when he caught him dancing to records – no doubt thinking he was alone – or when proudly rattling off fun facts about nature and cooking. Hell, Thomas even looked like a goddess in that red dress, somehow exuding more feminine dignity in it than Emily did in her blue dress that one night.

He and Thomas were more alike than even Zach would care to admit: Both had experienced deep love and suffered severe loss thereof. Both men had felt powerless and meek when faced with wall upon wall of adversity and self-doubt. They both even had a close confidant to tell all of their worldly secrets to.

The key difference between the two, sadly, that York had Zach at least for as long as he may live. Carol was gone. If she was ever a voice inside her brother’s head, it would only be echoes of the past.

“…You’re not as delicate as you think, Thomas,” York finally whispered back. “You’ve just been made to feel weak, by George.” He could feel his own pupils widen with genuine empathy and…

“…I promise I won’t hurt you. Ever.” …Affection, he told Zach. Sincere affection.

The red-dressed man’s pleading gaze slowly morphed into warmth; then to aching joy. “Heh,” he laughed down to him. His eyelids slowly closed, leaning in he whispered “…I knew there was something about you, from the moment… I…”

York’s own eyelids had closed, as well. Their lips gently pressed together, in a soft but firm, dewy kiss.

The FBI agent’s and red-dressed man’s hearts thumped in synchronicity – equally loud, equally hard; knocking longingly at the other’s body. Zach went fully-silent in York’s brain, something usually reserved for sleep; Thomas sighed and moaned so quietly and so delicately into York’s mouth that he felt the other man jerk a hand from behind. York seemed to forget for a moment that he was tied up.

Thomas broke the kiss gently, smiling lovingly into York’s face. He kept one hand on the back of the FBI agent’s head, going in for another long, soft kiss; the free hand deftly undid the rope from York’s wrists.

Now’s the time! It was Zach, dialoguing to York. It caused York to jump as if shook awake. Thomas took this as a sign of surprise.

“Yes, I’m freeing you,” Thomas responded, his expression morphing into sadness. He stood up carefully, kneeling down to untie York’s ankles. Keeping his eyes downcast as he rose to his feet, he murmured, “Go. You can go now.”

York’s face showed genuine confusion, but it only made the red-dressed man feel negged. “I know why this all happened, York,” he growled, defensively, “so just go before I change my mind.” Another wet spark appeared as he added: “You’ll never have to see me again. It can all just be a bad dream.”

The FBI agents stood up slowly, staring hard at Thomas. He could still feel those rouged lips against his, having inhaled his alcohol-touched breath in a moment when they reknit their lips together. York’s hyper-detailed focus on the kiss sent him into profiling mode.

What should I do, Zach? He tried to ask inwardly. However, even Zach’s silence spoke volumes.

Thomas was still looking away and shedding silent tears, a finger pointing out the door defeatedly, when York reached out with both hands and pulled his thin waist in close. Thomas looked up, bewildered, but did not resist. Instead, he found a hand instinctively placed itself on York’s heart again.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. THU-THUMP.

Thomas’ lips curled into an unsure smile, and he blushed profusely even in the dim light. York gingerly lifted his chin to meet his uncharacteristically-warm gaze, and pulled him in for another kiss. This time, Thomas wrapped his arms around York’s broad shoulders and dabbed the tip of his tongue on the man’s bottom lip. York instinctively reciprocated and, with the tip of his own tongue, lead Thomas’ tongue in. The kiss began to burn, a passion building inside the two.

‘You’re better off not falling in love with her,’ Thomas had said, about Emily.

At first, the thought was rude and unthinkable. However, in the midst of the slow-burning desire and empathetic attunement to the red-dressed man, York began to feel a different reaction:

It’s because I had Thomas in front of me, all along, Zach.

They once again broke their passionate kiss and just stared at each other. Solidly; lovingly.

Suddenly, Thomas’ eyes widened. “Y-you need to get out of here! Before G gets here! B-besides,” he broke the gaze, “Emily will… will be worried. S-she’s not a bad woman, I… I…”

York grappled Thomas’s face, tenderly, in both hands. “We leave together…” Then, running a hand down his neck, shoulder and arm, clasping the hand at the end:

“…I mean it. I promised you, Thomas.”

#deadlypremonitions #thomas maclaine #francis york morgan #fluff #empathy #love #affection #grief #romantic #comfort #francis zach morgan

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richincolor · 4 years

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New week, new books! Happy early book birthday to these two YA books and one memoir...

Incendiary (Hollow Crown #1) by Zoraida Córdova

I am Renata Convida. I have lived a hundred stolen lives. Now I live my own.

Renata Convida was only a child when she was kidnapped by the King’s Justice and brought to the luxurious palace of Andalucia. As a Robari, the rarest and most feared of the magical Moria, Renata’s ability to steal memories from royal enemies enabled the King’s Wrath, a siege that resulted in the deaths of thousands of her own people.

Now Renata is one of the Whispers, rebel spies working against the crown and helping the remaining Moria escape the kingdom bent on their destruction. The Whispers may have rescued Renata from the palace years ago, but she cannot escape their mistrust and hatred–or the overpowering memories of the hundreds of souls she turned “hollow” during her time in the palace.

When Dez, the commander of her unit, is taken captive by the notorious Sangrado Prince, Renata will do anything to save the boy whose love makes her place among the Whispers bearable. But a disastrous rescue attempt means Renata must return to the palace under cover and complete Dez’s top secret mission. Can Renata convince her former captors that she remains loyal, even as she burns for vengeance against the brutal, enigmatic prince? Her life and the fate of the Moria depend on it.

But returning to the palace stirs childhood memories long locked away. As Renata grows more deeply embedded in the politics of the royal court, she uncovers a secret in her past that could change the entire fate of the kingdom–and end the war that has cost her everything. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

A Breath Too Late by Rocky Callen

For fans of Girl in Pieces, All the Bright Places, and Girl, Interrupted comes a haunting and breathtaking YA contemporary debut novel that packs a powerful message: hope can be found in the darkness.

Seventeen-year-old Ellie had no hope left. Yet the day after she dies by suicide, she finds herself in the midst of an out-of-body experience. She is a spectator, swaying between past and present, retracing the events that unfolded prior to her death.

But there are gaps in her memory, fractured pieces Ellie is desperate to re-assemble. There’s her mother, a songbird who wanted to break free from her oppressive cage. The boy made of brushstrokes and goofy smiles who brought color into a gray world. Her brooding father, with his sad puppy eyes and clenched fists. Told in epistolary-like style, this deeply moving novel sensitively examines the beautiful and terrible moments that make up a life and the possibilities that live in even the darkest of places. Perfect for fans of the critically-acclaimed Speak, I’ll Give You the Sun, and If I Stay.

All Boys Aren’t Blue by George M. Johnson

In a series of personal essays, prominent journalist and LGBTQIA+ activist George M. Johnson explores his childhood, adolescence, and college years in New Jersey and Virginia. From the memories of getting his teeth kicked out by bullies at age five, to flea marketing with his loving grandmother, to his first sexual relationships, this young-adult memoir weaves together the trials and triumphs faced by Black queer boys.

Both a primer for teens eager to be allies as well as a reassuring testimony for young queer men of color, All Boys Aren’t Blue covers topics such as gender identity, toxic masculinity, brotherhood, family, structural marginalization, consent, and Black joy. Johnson’s emotionally frank style of writing will appeal directly to young adults.— Cover image and summary via Goodreads

#all boys aren't blue #incendiary #a breath too late #new releases #memoir #ya lit

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thoughtsofanexcitedspacechild · 4 years

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Writing Tips (Pt. 2): Characters

Okay, so you kind of have an idea about what you want to write, but you’re having a hard time developing your characters into more than just skeletons. What now? When I’m developing characters, here’s a list of things that I like to keep in mind to have a well rounded and realistic set of characters:

Don’t use those silly character building sheets! If they help you, great, but knowing the exact cereal my characters would have for breakfast doesn’t really help me determine anything else productive. Instead, focus on a few key things:

Body type. Are they short, tall, heavy set, muscular, lean, etc.? This can help you determine how they move, body language, physical activity level, etc. It’s especially important to know when writing stories that involve combat or other forms of physical activity and can help you determine strength level, endurance, and even preferred weapon.

Eye Color. I know that eye colors are heavily romanticized in the literature world, but it’s still important to know and include.

Hair color and texture: Again, hair is sometimes romanticized, but it can also be a form of expression to show the readers more about the character’s personality. Is their hair well kept? Messy? Shaved close to the scalp? Long luscious locks? Frilly pouf?

Facial Expressions: Your characters should have at least a couple of signature expressions. This helps the reader to (a) differentiate between characters and (b) find out more about the characters. Smirks, crooked grins, bitten lips and scrunched noses are all welcome in the character building world.

Small list (Five things at the most) of defining character traits that are good. Think of these like this: If your story were to be made into a movie and you were giving advice to the actor playing your character, what would be five things (or less) for them to focus on? Some examples: Creative, sensitive, caring, empathetic, wise, strong, warrior, advocate, regal, smart, funny, witty, innocent, sweet, loving, merciful, brave, etc.

Weak Spots. Now that you’ve got the character’s strengths written down, what are some of the things that work against them? Keep in mind that some (sometimes even most) traits can be a blessing and a curse. (A sensitive character can sometimes feel too deeply and hurt themselves and a rebel/advocate character could potentially bring that side of them into areas that need compromise and patience.) Some other weaknesses: Cowardly, Shy, Immature, Clingy, Toxic, Spiteful, Revenge seeking, Argumentative, Stubborn, Cocky, Proud, Lazy, Lustful, etc.

How do they feel about themselves? (Self explanatory)

How do they feel about others? (Who are they drawn to and who are they repelled from?)

How do their actions affect the plot? So you’ve got your character down, now it’s time to throw them into the arena of life to test them. Check their reflexes. How do they react to the stuff you hurtle at them? How strong are they? Do they make stupid decisions that later prove to be a problem? Do they seek help when things go awry?

Romantic Tension. Romance in books can be a completely different topic for another day, but the basics are as such. To write shippable characters, remember a couple of things:

Opposites attract. Shy and Bold, Sweet and Brooding, etc. Personalities must work for each other and not against.

Its also okay to share some traits. You also gotta have a common ground and relatability.

Keep toxicity OUT. No Mr. Darcy action goin on or Reylo Vibes. Instead shoot for Bey (Rey+Ben) Vibes. Yes, Ben Solo and Kylo Ren are completely different people. Rant on that soon to follow.

Love is a CHOICE. There needs to be a scenario where your characters choose to love one and other despite the bad stuff. (Again, not toxicity, but flaws.)

Friends! Keep in mind how friend dynamics work too. Take inspo from other places and even your own friendships! Remember that each friend has a niche in the social group. In this case its ok to categorize characters. Its even better when you can gracefully add a backstory of how they met in there too. It gives way more insight.

Some friendship combos that I adore and think are perfect to model and add onto: Mare+Kilorn (Red Queen) Han+Chewie (SW) Finn+Rey (SW) Ahsoka+Anakin (SW) Katniss+Prim (Hunger Games) Harry+Ron+Hermione (Harry Potter)

Some Friendship combos that just don’t work: Gale+Katniss (Hunger Games) (Weird Romantic tension but not really? Wavering Friendzone to say the least) Any relationship where one person is “in charge” like in Mean Girls and in any other teenage hs movie where there’s bitchy girls

Alright Peeps! That’s it for now! I’m gonna do Plot Development next time!

xoxo hana

#writing #character #character development #fiction #fictional characters

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thememcry · 4 years

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THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

My muse is: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent ( potentially ) / fandomless

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO.

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK.

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK. (apparently there are youtube comments circulating about how boring or weak aerith is. if an explanation needs be provided for how strong of a woman, character, and fighter she is in her own regard then the point of the character is missed entirely.)

Are they underrated? YES / NO.

Were they relevant to the main story? YES / NO.

Were they relevant to the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO. (the big baddies know of her, the little baddies know to look for her and the heroes just learned of why she’s important).

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.

How strictly do you follow canon?

it depends entirely on the person / character i’m writing and what verse they’re in. when someone approaches me and doesn’t specify a verse i give them main verse (ff7r) and follow canon as closely as i’d like. but most of my threads diverge from canon for exploration or other purposes. i’m not concerned with how close to canon my aerith is ------obviously i’d like people to hear her voice when i have her speak, or see her performing the actions i have her commit to but i’d also like this interpretation to be my own. so when someone reads a piece of my writing they say oh yes, that’s kay’s aerith definitely.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutual.

i could make an entire post about all of the things i love about aerith gainsborough on its own, so i’ll try not to let this be too rambly.

she is such a three-dimensional character and she always has been. people expect just to meet the damsel in distress, to rely on cloud and company to help her out at every twist and turn. square even did a good job selling her appearance: soft pinks, gentle features, and when she was given a voice actor the first few times they always went the route of someone who had a lighter lilt. to the first glance she is very much all of those things. except it’s not all she is.

aerith wears masks to cover the horrendous things that happened to her as a child: experimentation, the shocking loss of her mother after escaping it, crushing loneliness, an awareness that she was different and nobody around who understood the properties of that difference to explain it to her in a way that didn’t terrify her. she heard the planet, could tell when people passed away and rejoined the lifestream, surrounded by all of these voices yet so fucking alone. and did she let it make her bitter? did she become angry or cold, jaded or cruel? no. aerith is kind and giving without being too self-sacrificing and without making her boring. she’s not as innocent as people are made to believe.

look at her first interactions with cloud. she flirts mercilessly with him, and then you discover she did it to zack, too. she’s not afraid to express herself in any fashion and she’s unapologetic about how forward and positive she is. despite all of the shitty things that happened to her, she’s still all of these great things. she’s scrappy, she can be a brat (ask the turks!) and she blooms under the cover of oppression that she lives. sure, she’s in a beautiful house with a loving mother figure but she’s in the slums and she’s being watched constantly by some part of the company that wants to see her dissected or worse.

and she’s divine. no, literally. of course it takes her death for the realization of that divinity to really be understood by the fan base and even by her own party, but once aerith dies she becomes an actual deity. it’s sad that you don’t get her in your party any more but it’s obvious how much she affected everyone she worked with (and even those she didn’t). they spend the rest of the game avenging her, they spend the rest of the game explaining their grief over her loss, promising her death won’t be in vain. and once that’s done? there’s an entire movie where cloud deals with his grief over everything, but mainly his self-appointed guilt over her death. as if he could have changed it? i mentioned to @seraphicwiing in a conversation (an au one) about sephiroth and aerith ------he didn’t kill or break her. he gifted her divinity.

so this sweet flower girl goes from a first appearance damsel in distress to an actual conduit of the planet, watching over her friends and everyone else from the spiritual plane of it. controlling the lifestream itself to rise up and crush back meteor.

if you don’t like her by this point, it’s a lost cause. honestly, just go play pacman or something.

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?).

maybe strong female leads aren’t your cup of tea? perhaps you really wanted aerith to maintain her softness and have none of the bite or edge that i argue make her interesting?

some people want a strong woman to be something like paine in ffx-2, or lightning in ffxiii, or even lulu in ffx itself ... dark and perhaps a bit brooding, angry with someone or something. they can be gentle but they’re mostly a razor sharp edge threatening to slice anyone who tries to get close to them. aerith is arguably a hot take on the stronger female leads ... even compared to tifa. you don’t doubt that a woman who fights with her fists is a tough, bad bitch ... but aerith isn’t physically strong. she’s the image of a princess honestly and that’s just not what some people want to see or deal with.

arguably her personality can come off a bit strong. she’s snarky and, as i said, a tease. she can be bratty from time to time and that can absolutely be read as irritating, especially to someone whose looking for negative personality traits to focus on at a first glance.

and a lot of people just see her as a love interest to cloud. and she is, i won’t deny that. it’s been further addressed in the remake with her dream sequence that cloud absolutely has feelings for her. it dredges up the age-old argument from 1997 of: tifa or aerith. why does it have to be or? why can’t he love them both in different ways? or the same way? it’s not like aerith has a lot of time to be the love interest, anyway. we all know how disc 1 ended, by this point.

perhaps people see her end-game divinity as a deus-ex mechanic. sure, it kind of it. but the game never hid its intentions of why aerith was there. she was always special, we just didn’t know how. she always had holy, we just didn’t know what it meant at the time. but it does seem a bit convenient that right as the meteor is going to crush midgar ------here comes the lifestream, holding it back so holy can stop it! wow, amazing! darn that aerith and her connection to the planet. how awful. maybe cloud could have just braver’d it.

What inspired you to rp your muse?

i love her. it’s just that simple. she’s so complex and so different from other characters i tend to gravitate toward. she has a darkness but she’s good, genuinely. i usually go for people who are deeply seeded in some kind of trauma, or are just generally a piece of shit. and aerith certainly has her trauma, but she’s risen above it. she chooses to live her life as much as she can before the ultimate doom clock ticks to 0, you know?

i admire her beauty. not just her physical beauty (and she is), but the beauty of her as a person. i wish i could be as endlessly positive as she is, even faced against such awful odds. i wish i could be the kind of person who surrounds themselves with people who love them, despite their flaws. but i am very much the opposite of aerith.

i consider myself endlessly lucky to be a mouthpiece of some kind of version of her. this is a character i’ve had a connection to since i was like, 7 or 9 (and i’m 30 now). the very fact that i get to log in every day and express some form of this wonderful character keeps me connected to her. she has a loud voice in my head, and i think she always had. i think that remake just re-lit the flame for her.

i wrote her a long time ago, during myspace rp days. but we all know how myspace ended. so i choose to write her now because it feels right. and i really do enjoy having someone who shines so brightly in my head.

What keeps your inspiration going?

the same as everyone else, i think: music, clips of the character, art of her ... but mostly? my writing partners. i wouldn’t be anywhere without the people in this site who come to me every day with an interest in my interpretation of aerith. i never expected so many lovely humans to want to see what i can do with her. but i have people dm’ing me on discord every day with ideas or thoughts, with musings or what-if’s ... and it really just keeps this muse so alive for me.

even though i have a backlog of drafts and inbox things to answer, i can know that they will get done ... it’s just up to me as a human to write things out.

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO.

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO.

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO. (i’d prefer to write out a reply to a solo drabble).

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO.

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO.

Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO.

Are you a sensitive person? YES / NO.

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal?

in the proper context. i don’t want someone coming on here and telling me i play aerith wrong because it’s not what she would do canon. that’s cool, i don’t write her strictly canon. but if i’m having doubts and i ask for the feedback, i’m open to it.

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character?

always. i am 100% always accepting development questions.

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why?

nope. i don’t care if you agree with my headcanons or not. i’m sure there are people who don’t like that i have a ship with a sephiroth, or a reeve, or that i’ve had her mess around with rufus or biggs. i’m sure there are people who despise the way i make her speak to people ... and that’s fine. they’re allowed to. but this is my interpretation of aerith and so far i’m loving everything that i’ve gotten to do with her. especially those things that include character building with others.

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it?

they’re allowed to disagree. they’re also not beholden to follow me. i won’t be upset if they unfollow me. it’s their comfort, after all. and i’d rather spend time on here enjoying myself than either having someone voice their dislike of my interpretation or get vocal about how they’re uncomfortable.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it?

people have really hated aerith since 1997. they’re allowed to have their silly opinions of her. and i’m allowed not to entertain them.

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors?

please do. i’m human and i make mistakes. i’d love to fix them.

Do you think you are easy going as a mun?

yes, but i’ve had people mention that i seem a little unapproachable. please approach me. if you want to write with me let me know. if you want to chat ooc with me talk to me. i promise i’m an absolute dimwit on my side of the screen. i’m spacy but i try to be as nice and welcoming as possible. somehow i’ve conned a few friends out of this rpc already with my idiocy, so please please please come chat with me.

That’s about it, congrats for filling out!

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