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liebgotts-lovergirl · 2 years

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Fire On Fire: Chapter 1

(Ch. 2)

Gallery II Taglist Application II Symbol Guide

Summary: With WWII raging across the European Theatre, OSS agent Alix "Pyro" Martinelli and paratrooper Joe Liebgott are forced to navigate their star-crossed romance at the worst possible time. With the knowledge that one or both of them could end up dead before the war's end, will their secret love survive the horrors that await them or break under the pressure? Simultaneously, as he prepares to send her into enemy territory, first-time case officer/handler Lewis Nixon struggles to shoulder the ever-present fear that the agent he's come to see as his little sister may not make it back alive.

A/N: Here it is!! Y'all know the drill lol, everything BoB is strictly based on the miniseries & my own headcanons, not the real-life ppl. Also pls be nice to me, this is the first thing I've written since like 2018-2019. It'll get better hopefully lol. (And yes, I'm making y'all wait for that coveted first interaction between Lieb x Alix lol bc I'm evil) 💖

Contemporary: June 3rd, 1944. Aldbourne, England.

The most important ally in a spy's life is their case officer, also known as their handler, and for some reason, Alix’s seemed determined to get her killed before she ever set foot in a war zone.

"It wasn't a suggestion, Martinelli, it was an order. You’ve been sparring with your dominant hand all day. Switch hands."

Alix barely had time to fumble her weapon from her belt before Lieutenant Nixon came at her face with a knife.

"Shit!"

She ducked as it sailed over her head but managed to pop back up just in time to block an incoming punch with her right forearm.

"Christ," Alix griped, swiping at Nixon with the knife in her left hand, grazing his arm with the flat of the blade. "A little warning would've been nice, y'know!"

"Oh I'm sorry," the intelligence officer remarked snidely, stepping out of her reach to avoid another slash. "Did you think the Krauts would send you a personal invitation?"

The younger agent didn’t answer, instead aiming a kick straight at Nixon's stomach. She was shorter than him by a good 6 inches even in boots but her legs were still just long enough to reach him.

The kick was hard enough to connect but gentle enough not to hurt too much, more of a tap than a true kick.

“Weak form,” Nixon called out, although his slight stumble backwards betrayed him.

She knew he was deliberately trying to piss her off so she’d make more mistakes.

He always said “Anger makes you stupid, stupid gets you killed.”

Nixon recovered quickly from the kick, dodging her attempt at a stab and returning one of his own, easily tapping her arm with the dull side of the blade.

“Too slow.”

Yeah? She cocked a perfectly manicured eyebrow. We’ll see about that.

On a whim, Alix faked a punch to Nixon’s left. It was a gamble but it worked. He fell for her ruse just like she’d hoped and as his focus shifted to blocking his left side, she was able to disarm him with a swift kick to the right, knocking the knife out of his hand and into the grass somewhere.

She put her hands on her hips and grinned, panting. That was the quickest disarm she'd done all day and she'd managed it using her non-dominant hand and after hours of non-stop physical training, no less.

Not bad for one of Director Donovan’s “glorious amateurs”, she mused.

Watching her superior fishing around in the pasture for his lost weapon was kind of cathartic, Alix thought to herself with a stifled laugh. Perhaps it was just schadenfreude but it felt nice to see him be the one to struggle for once.

Ever since the first day he’d been assigned as her handler two years ago, Lieutenant Nixon had made it his personal business to make her life a living hell.

She had tried to be cordial to him but he wanted nothing to do with her, even going so far as to only refer to her as “Agent” or “Martinelli”. He had run her ragged during OSS training, ruthlessly drilling her on everything from close-combat and weapon-handling to enduring an interrogation every day for a full three weeks.

Nothing was ever good enough for him; he could always find something to criticize. He expected her to commit written information to memory practically the second she received it and he wasn’t shy about quizzing her at random on everything from poisons to arteries to conversational French.

She thought he might loosen up after her graduation from the OSS program, once he’d seen that she had transformed from a society girl into a capable agent who didn’t need her supervisor breathing down her neck, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

He still saw her as the youngest and smallest trainee that needed constant supervision and strict discipline for even the most minor of infractions.

Getting transferred to England for further training with their Special Operations Executive had been a welcome change of pace. Her handler had gone back to Toccoa, Georgia with the Airborne and she finally felt like she could breathe again.

Life with the SOE wasn’t nearly as stressful because it was a well-established organization and her superior officers there were much more laidback. She felt secure in her training and confident in her skills. But her relaxation was short-lived because after a year, the Airborne had transferred too and with them came her Draconian handler and a host of new trials to complete. Joy.

Despite Alix’s lifelong fear of heights, even completing her jump-training wasn’t as difficult as earning Lewis Nixon’s approval, and that was really saying something.

For whatever reason, the intelligence officer seemed determined to break her but the young OSS agent was even more determined to succeed.

No matter how hard he pushed her, she always pushed right back. The sight of an intimidating-looking officer glaring down at a petite woman 9 years younger and half a foot shorter than him like she was the Devil Incarnate after a particular bout of sass often provided endless entertainment for troopers passing by the training ground and Alix herself would've found it hilarious if she wasn't on the receiving end of said glare.

Digging her red-painted nails into her palms with frustration, Alix marched over to her handler and cleared her throat expectantly.

The Lieutenant looked up from his field notebook and cocked a bushy eyebrow.

“Did you want something, Agent?”

Alix’s dark eyes narrowed. Nixon’s air of deliberate nonchalance was really pushing her buttons and he knew it. The more heated she got, the colder he would get, but she could feel her temper bubbling just under the surface anyway.

“I have a name, you know,” she snapped. “It’s Alix.”

“I don’t care. You’re an assignment, not my friend. Now, what do you want?”

Alright, that’s it.

“Well number one, for you to stop treating me like a fucking child!”

“Then stop acting like one,” was the dismissive reply.

“Excuse me?!”

“You heard me. You’re getting complacent. You’re going to be in extremely close-quarters with highly-skilled German officers, alone. If you make even the slightest mistake, if you're off by even a second, they’re going to eat you alive.”

“I’m a Sparrow,” she shot back. “A trained assassin. I’d like to see them try.”

“You’re also what, 5’4” and a hundred-something pounds soaking wet? Some threat! If they disarm you, it's game over."

Alix seethed, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring daggers at her superior.

“I graduated top of my class. You’ve seen me fight! You know I’m as effective with a weapon as I am without one!”

“With your right hand, maybe, but what if it’s restrained and you have to use your left?"

“You worry too much.”

“You don’t worry enough. You’re not strong enough to be effective against highly-trained soldiers without a weapon. Here, throw a punch with your left, I’ll show you what I mean.”

Alix’s dark eyes narrowed and she gave a sarcastic smile.

“It would be my pleasure, sir.”

She swung a long left-hook. Her knuckles had just grazed his jaw when he grabbed her wrist.

Using her own body’s momentum against her, he stepped in, hooking his arm under her armpit and easily flipping her over his shoulder onto the ground with a hard thud.

“Fuck!” Alix coughed out, the breath forcibly knocked from her lungs due to the sudden impact. Laying on her back, she was winded and her muscles were burning but her mind was racing. She was down but not out.

Catching her breath, she shifted into a crouching position. Now she was seeing red.

Nixon meanwhile, was resting on his laurels.

“See,” he announced from above with a smug, almost irritatingly paternal air. “What did I tell you? You’re not as effective unarmed. You need to train mo-”

THUMP!

Swinging her leg out in one fluid motion, Alix had caught his ankle, using a Tiger-Tail leg sweep to swipe her handler’s legs out from under him, bringing him crashing down next to her with a string of muttered curses.

“Doesn’t look like you’re that effective unarmed either, sir,” she said with a sarcastically-bright smile. “Maybe you should train more.”

The Lieutenant opened his mouth defensively, about to respond, but he was cut off by the sound of tires on the grass behind them.

Glancing up at the noise, Alix felt relief wash over her at the sight of Sergeant Bull Randleman and Lieutenant Winters crossing the field toward them in a Jeep. If anybody could temper Lewis Nixon’s attitude, it was those two.

The dark-haired lieutenant got off the ground, dusting off his uniform. Turning to Alix, he offered her a hand but she gave him a scathing look that clearly said “I don’t want your damn help” so he retracted it with a shrug.

Suit yourself.

Inwardly groaning at her sore muscles, Alix gritted her teeth and silently dragged herself to her feet. She was not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her struggle.

As long as I'm still breathing, she thought. I'm fucking fine.

As the two officers approached, both she and Nixon saluted them.

“That was a damn near perfect takedown you just did,” Bull exclaimed with brotherly pride, chomping on the end of his trademark cigar as he and Winters approached. “And some disarm too! We saw when we was passin’ by earlier! You're some kinda killer now, huh, Pyro?”

“After two years of training, I sure hope so!” she chirped, grinning at the nickname. The memory of its origin always made her laugh.

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A year earlier: January 1944. Aldbourne, England.

On her first day training for her cover as a combat nurse with Easy, she’d gotten into an explosive argument with some guy named Cobb over a particularly sexist series of comments he’d made while cornering her outside, after one of Welsh’s riveting lectures on map-reading.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here anyway?” he’d asked, looking her up and down with a wolfish smirk. “War's no place for a woman like you, sweetheart.”

“I'm doing my part, same as you," she’d answered coolly. “And just for the record, ‘a woman’s place’ is wherever the hell she wants to be.”

With a bright, "Fuck you" smile, she had just pushed past him to be on her way when she distinctly heard him grumble “Jeez, learn to take a compliment, bitch.”

The shouting match that followed quickly escalated into a physical brawl the moment the phrase “all bust, no brains” came out of his mouth. The fight only ended minutes later when a still-cursing Alix was physically dragged off of a barely-conscious Cobb by Bull, who didn’t want the new girl committing murder on her first day.

“Well ain’t you a little firecracker!” Bull had remarked, shaking his head in amusement.

And thus, the nickname Pyro was born.

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Contemporary: June 3rd, 1944. Aldbourne, England.

“So what are your thoughts, Nix?” Winters inquired. “You’re her handler, after all. Is she ready?”

There was a short silence and Alix held her breath.

What if he lied and told Dick she was terrible? What if he got her kicked off the mission and the whole Sparrow program never got off the ground because of it? What if-

“It wasn’t a bad session—” Nixon started after a minute of thought and Alix exhaled.

Thank God.

“—But her disarm could’ve been faster. Her shooting is fine with her right hand but she can’t make a left-handed headshot worth a damn, let alone in the time frame she needs to.”

“Well,” Bull drawled matter-of-factly. “considerin’ it’s her left hand she’s workin’ with and ‘s far as we know, she ain’t left-handed, I reckon just bein’ able to hit the target is somethin’. She's somethin' to see shootin' with her right though! Kill-shots every time."

Winters nodded in silent agreement, making some small notations on the clipboard he was carrying before looking over at Nixon, green eyes meeting black.

“Mind if I have a word with you, Lew? In private?” he asked, gesturing for them to take a short walk back to the Jeep and the dark-haired man shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Sure thing, Dick.”

He gave a curt nod to Alix and a strained smile to Bull before the two men started off.

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“Now, far be it from me to tell you how to run things,” Winters began tentatively once they had arrived at the car. “But don’t you think you’re being just a bit too harsh on her?”

He leaned against the Jeep, giving his friend a scrutinizing look.

“I mean, did you really expect her to be able to make a head-shot with her non-dominant hand? Can you even make that kind of shot with your left hand, Nix, let alone in under 5 seconds?”

"No but I’m also not the one who’s going to be locked in a room every other night, up close and personal, with members of the SS, the Gestapo, or God knows who else,” Nixon countered, beginning to pace. “She needs to be prepared, goddamn it.”

Dick frowned as he watched his best friend. He’d never seen Lew this anxious before. He opened his mouth to respond but before he could get the words out, his friend cut him off.

“There’s no room for mistakes, Dick,” Nixon insisted, his voice rising. “She’s good, really good, but she has to be the best or she's going to get herself killed out there!"

“She is the best or she wouldn’t have been recruited in the first place,” Winters replied evenly.

“We all know that Soviet Swallows aren't recruited at random and neither are American Sparrows. She was chosen because she can handle it.”

Nixon shook his head.

“What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not,” the redhead said bracingly.

“She’s been training non-stop for two years, in everything from poison usage to intelligence-gathering, seduction to pickpocketing. Hell Nix, you just flipped her onto the ground and she still managed to take you out too in a matter of seconds! She’s a crack-shot and speaks how many foreign languages now?”

“Three,” the dark-haired man conceded. “Italian, French, and Spanish. Four if you count a working knowledge of Russian.”

“Exactly. And on top of it, she has the smartest man I know as her handler. Even if I didn’t have faith in her, which I do, I have faith in you and your abilities and so does Bill Donovan or he wouldn’t have personally assigned you to such a new program.”

Nixon rubbed the back of his neck worriedly, his mouth set in a hard line.

A part of him knew that Dick was right— all of the relentless pressure he’d put on her had paid off because Alix really was one of the best to come out of the OSS but still, that nagging fear just wouldn't leave him alone.

He had a bad feeling about all this.

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2 Years Earlier: June 1942. Washington DC, USA.

He thought back to his first briefing on agent handling with the OSS two years earlier. He had been among a group of about eight officers called to OSS headquarters for a personal conference with the director, Bill Donovan himself.

Once all of the handshaking and small-talk had died down, everyone spread out and took their seats, an expectant hush falling over the small crowd.

“Gentlemen,” Donovan began, his gravelly voice piercing the thick air. “There are whispers in the intelligence community that the Russians are developing a new program.”

Nixon shifted uncomfortably in his chair, struggling to concentrate. It was stiflingly hot in his uniform and the air conditioner in the office had stopped working, much to everyone’s chagrin.

He could feel the sweat dripping down his back and he grimaced.

This better be good.

“We have received Intel from our sources in Russia that strongly confirms the use of so-called ‘Soviet Swallows’-”

“Like the bird, sir?” the officer across from Nixon piped up and Donovan let out an exasperated sigh.

“Yes, like the bird, son. "

Nixon might've laughed if the situation hadn't been so serious.

"These Russian Swallows are part of a new program utilizing female spies who are highly trained and tasked with infiltrating and incapacitating the enemy. They combine the deadliness and discipline of a soldier with the glamour and grace of a movie star."

There were some oohs and aahs from the officers around him but Nixon remained silent.

If they were as highly trained as Donovan was suggesting-- and knowing the Russians, he had no doubt they were-- these Swallows, whoever they were, would be extremely dangerous and effective agents in the field.

"Now," Donovan continued. "Our objective is to get ahead of them. The president has tasked us here at the OSS with creating a similar program, known as the Sparrow Program, and we need capable officers like yourselves to lead it. If all goes well, these young ladies I am assigning you today will be the very future of American espionage.”

The men in the room all began to exchange curious glances.

The meeting itself had been scheduled for some time but all of the information about it had been considered Classified, so nobody had known how significant the project actually was. The nervousness and excitement in the room was palpable.

“The files that I am handing out to you now, gentlemen, are our first class of agents. Each of them have been carefully selected from the top schools and families across the country. They are the best and brightest that the United States has to offer. You have all been assigned one agent and as her handler, you will be personally responsible for her from today onward. You will be training her, managing her operations, arranging drops and meetings with Resistance contacts, processing the Intel she brings so it can be passed up the ladder, and you will be her lifeline if anything, God forbid, goes wrong.”

There was a beat of uncomfortable silence before he added brightly, “But no pressure."

Nixon made a bitter noise in the back of his throat and sipped the cup of black coffee he’d gotten from the lobby.

Oh yeah, he thought cynically. No pressure at all.

"Now when I read off your name, raise your hand and my assistant will present you with the file of your first operative, who you will be sending behind enemy lines at a time and date to be specified. I will be personally available to answer any questions, should you have them. First up...Atkins!"

Nixon stared straight ahead, past the officer sitting across from him, out the window, to the treeline as he waited for his name to be called.

Great, the lieutenant mused bitterly. I get to be responsible for someone else's life now too. Because I'm doing so well managing my own.

Once the folders had all been handed out, the director began to circle the room, periodically answering questions as they were asked.

Lieutenant Nixon let the file sit closed on the table for a minute, just staring at it, as he mentally prepared himself to look into the face of the person he would be sending into enemy territory.

Steeling himself, he reached for the folder and opened it, glancing inside before immediately slamming it shut.

The girl looked so young in her photo, barely 21, and for a split-second, in her glossy black curls and dark eyes, he saw his baby sister, Blanche smiling back at him. He suddenly felt ill.

"Ah, you got Miss Martinelli," Donovan said, suddenly appearing over his shoulder as if sensing his doubts. "Alix is a charming girl. Quite a rebellious streak no doubt, but one of our most promising recruits. A swan among sparrows, if you will. Educated at St. Mary’s-- one of the finest finishing schools in the country, I might add-- and top of her class in our training facility as well. Her father, Emilio, is a good friend of mine. He's in oil, as I'm sure you know."

Nixon gave a half-smile, hoping he looked convincing and interested. He had no idea who Emilio Martinelli was nor did he care.

Rubbing elbows with other rich people was his mother's department, not his.

Casting one more glance at the folder, he took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to rid himself of the violent wave of nausea that hit him relentlessly.

From the moment he saw the photo, it had dawned on him just how easily the girl in the folder could have been his sister and now it wouldn’t leave his mind. She was just like Blanche in almost every way. This was somebody's little sister, no doubt.

And how could he send his little sister to die? He couldn’t.

Donovan had just turned to move on to the next officer when at the last minute, Nixon caught him by the sleeve.

“Sir,” he begged, his voice low. "Not her. Anyone but her. Please.”

The director’s brow furrowed.

“Son, I'm afraid everything's already been arranged. There's no backing out now."

The younger man quailed.

What was he supposed to do? Keep pleading? Tell the director he couldn’t take on the recruit because he couldn’t look her in the face without seeing his baby sister?

That was exactly what he did.

To his relief, Donovan didn't laugh. Instead, he put a bracing hand on the lieutenant's shoulder.

“You say she reminds you of your sister back home, right Lieutenant?”

“Yes sir.”

“Then prepare her like you’d prepare your sister. Protect her. Keep her alive.”

“Yes sir.”

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Contemporary: June 3rd, 1944. Aldbourne, England.

Winters cleared his throat awkwardly, breaking the silence between them as he wracked his brain for how best to broach the delicate subject on his mind.

"Lew…uh…"

"Spit it out, Dick," Nixon intoned from beside him without even looking up.

Winters did his best to oblige.

"Is this..um..Is there some sort of a romance thing going on with you and her or something? You just seem really torn up but I thought she had a thing going with.."

Nixon jerked his head back with a flabbergasted look like he'd just been told Winters was moonlighting as a circus clown.

"What?! Oh God no, Dick, she's like my kid sister! Christ, she's a child!"

"She's twenty-three, isn’t she?"

"Yes, exactly! She's a child!"

Winters laughed and shook his head in amusement.

"You act like being in our thirties makes us ancient. But good, I’m glad we got that cleared up then because I was going to say, if that's your problem, I can't help you. I’m not very good with that sort of thing."

A teasing smile played at the corner of Nixon’s lips.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed. Say, do me a favor, Dick?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“If you ever have any more wildly off-base speculations about my love life, keep ‘em to yourself. In all the years I've known you, I don't think you've been right one time."

They both laughed but the auburn-haired officer sobered quickly.

"In all seriousness, Nix, lighten up a little on Martinelli, okay? She’ll be fine. Letting her have a little fun once in a while won’t hurt, especially since we're due out any day now.”

The intelligence officer cocked an eyebrow slyly.

“Since when are you lecturing me on 'lightening up' and 'having fun'?" he asked, black eyes glittering with barely-contained mirth.

"Who are you and what have you done with my friend Dick?”

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130 notes · View notes

pinkteapotwriting · 3 years

Note

yasss you’re taking requests <333

can you write a smut with Marauders where it’s readers’ first time and the boys are already experienced so she is kind of nervous(also little insecure about her body bc stretch marks?🤗)

I loooove your writing, have a good day and please take care of yourself!

Marauders x Fem!reader

Warning : Smut, fingering, female receiving, pet names also did not proof read

Word count : 1721

---

I made this more light hearted, thanks for your patience love.

James’ hands were getting lost in your hair, much like your inhibitions. Today was going to be your first time and they knew you were anxious. So they were trying their best to keep things light but still intentional. You were mirroring Sirius on top of Remus, both of you straddling a brunette below you. Sirius however kept pulling away from Remus to pull you away from James. Apparently he couldn’t decide who he wanted to be kissing more. Which was all fine and good, for you. James however was getting frustrated with Sirius’s blatant thievery. Sirius wasn’t in reach though. So you were unsuspecting when his hands drifted down to your waist. Just when you thought you were safe you were being tossed onto your back and James was tickling your sides and you were trying your best not to kick him.

“Jamie, JAMIE stoooop. That tickles!”

“That’s kind of the point. Last I checked you were kissing me. Sirius can wait his turn hmmm?”

“AH stop! Stop it!”

You were playfully slapping his hands.

“Beg then”

Sirius and Remus were now enjoying the show. But then your shirt started to ride up and you pushed your palm against his chest as hard as you could; which surprised the boys. You were quick to pull your shirt down once you sat up and crossed your arms over your chest. Successfully creating a physical barrier to help mask your insecurity. Sirius was now turned around completely. Why were you hiding yourself from them? James felt especially bad.

“M’sorry for tickling you. I thought it was funny, but now I see it just made you feel bad. Are you okay?”

“Yeah I just” you took a deep breath “I didn’t want you to see yet. I thought I was ready and brave enough but I didn’t want you to see my- my”

James reached for your hand as soon as he heard your voice falter.

“Your what, love?”

“I have some stretch marks, and I know it’s ridiculous to hold myself to society's standards about my body size and how I look but it’s hard sometimes.”

Remus was the first to reassure you. He pushed Sirius forward so he could stand beside the bed and pull off his shirt.

“I know what it’s like to feel insecure about my body Y/N. Some people learn to accept and love themselves on their own, but we’re both lucky that we have people that are here to remind us that they find us attractive.”

He chuckled then because you were kind of listening, but really your main focus was running your hand across his chest and tracing his scars delicately. He hadn’t even noticed you edge closer to him until he felt your warm touch.

“I do find you attractive.”

“Really Bunny? We didn’t notice.” Sirius snickered at first, but then he became more sincere. He lifted the bottom of James’ shirt.

“See look, James has some stretch marks too, and we think he’s beautiful.”

Sirius’s head was much closer to James' lower stomach now. Close enough to delicately kiss along each mark. Remus had turned you around now and was resting his chin against your shoulder. Both of you very much enjoyed the beautiful sight of Sirius worshiping James with his lips. Remus starts to do the same for you but on the sweet spot on your neck before whispering in your ear.

“Want Siri to do the same for you, love?”

Your nervous disposition started to dissolve and you found yourself nodding now. Sirius was smiling, not his cocky grin, but one full of the same love and adoration you felt for him. He lifted the hem of your shirt and his palm felt warm against the softness of your stomach.

“Breath honey, you gotta breath.”

You let out the air you didn’t know you were holding at Remus’s reassurance, but squeezed your eyes shut. You didn’t want to see, but the boys wanted you to. Remus slid his hand to grasp your chin and pull your gaze down to Sirius.

“Open your eyes darling, that’s it. See? There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Remus had one of his hands in Sirius’s hair now and while it was nice, you couldn’t help but notice James in the same spot at the edge of the bed. He didn’t look lonely, he actually looked pretty pleased with the view. The bulge in his pants made that perfectly clear. You’re not sure how you got away from Sirius and Remus, maybe they noticed the focused look in your eye, but you were able to make your way to James again. This time you were the one to get that pesky shirt out of the way and kiss his stomach and lower abdomen.

“Like this James?”

James adored how timid you were, how soft you traced your fingers across his chest. It was maddening.

“Yes dove, but this is supposed to be about you, no?”

“I guess so.”

“Okay love, we’ve gotta prep you okay? Can we take your clothes off now?”

“Only if the rest of yours come off too.”

Sirius stood up instantly and threw his shirt to the side and yanked his pants off. Once his clothes were off he spread his arms out.

“I’m ready, your turn.”

All eyes were on Sirius now. James hucked a pillow in your honor that hit Sirius straight in the face.

“Shut it you git. Let her take her time.”

Remus furrowed his eyebrows, because instead of the usual angry outburst from Sirius there was a focused look in his eyes. Then he turned around to find you completely naked with your arms outstretched giggling.

“I’m ready, your turn.”

Sirius quite literally dove across the bed. James and Remus didn’t have time to process what was happening. They barely were able to scramble out of the way as Sirius clambered on past him. But he halted as soon as he was in front of you, smiling like a little kid.

And you wouldn’t be separated.

Your fingers locked into his hair, while his hands hooked under your thighs to pull you onto his lap. He fell onto his back and pulled you in chest to chest.

“Sirius, come on. We wanna see her too.” James was getting less and less patient, but Remus was smarter than James and knew how to coax you out.

“My angel you’ve got to remember to breathe.”

As soon as he reminded you you were able to pull away and to your surprise you were panting. Once your breath was level Remus took your face in his hands gently and kissed you. You don’t know how you made the switch but you were now being pulled onto Remus’s lap. There was no control over your body with any of these boys. It was like you were magnetic, it flowed through you naturally to follow their lead now. The embarrassment dissipated all along the way. You needed them.

“Remus please”

“Alright love, who do you want to prep you?”

“Let’s flip a coin.” James suggested.

“There’s three of us, you idiot.” Sirius retorted.

“Yeah, but I figured you don’t even count so.”

“Sirius counts, don’t be mean James.”

Sirius was very pleased you stood up for him. “Thanks bunny, does that mean you pick me?”

“Well… seeing as Remus is the only one not acting like a five year old.”

Remus tried not to look too happy with himself as he led you to lie back against the pillows. James scooted up to the right of you to hold your hand as Remus rubbed the inside of your thighs when they fell open. Sirius looked like he was plotting something, but instead opted to sit beside Remus and flash you a cheeky grin.

“You ready love”

“Yes.”

His fingers lightly trailed your inner thighs. He relished in how sensitive they were. His thumb found your clit and he began to massage gentle circles against it.

“You’re so wet already love, and we’ve barely touched you.”

Sirius grumbled; Remus humored him.

“What was that Padfoot?”

“I said you’re welcome”

Remus slipped a finger inside you now, which had you bucking your hips up which had him pushing his hand against your lower stomach.

“I don’t think I need your help getting her off Sirius.”

“I personally wouldn’t mind his help.”

Remus rolled his eyes at you while adding in another finger.

“You sure about that?”

“Stop being mean to our bunny, I bet she looks so pretty when she cums and your banter is preventing that.”

While James stole Remus’s attention Sirius took the opportunity to tend to your neglected clit with his tongue. The unrestrained moan you let out gathered everyone’s attention. Your thighs began to shake while Remus quickened his pace.

“Si-Siri I can't, it's too much.”

Sirius didn’t stop though. James was still holding your hand, completely mesmerized by your face as you were building to your release.

“Doing so good for us love. Come on, it’s okay to let go.”

You whimpered, James grinned.

“You look so beautiful like this bunny.”

This time Remus let you arch your back. A high pitched whine was ripped from your throat and Remus had to pull Sirius away to keep him from lapping at your cunt. He was able to get over the loss of contact when he saw that your legs were still trembling. He was going to make some sort of snarky comment but the blissed out look on your face had him crumbling.

“Oh Puppy, you look so pretty. Are you ready for more?”

You nodded your head.

“By the way Siri, I think you’re pretty too.”

“See Remus, Y/N knows how to feed my ego. Take notes.”

“You think I want to encourage your behaviour.”

“Yes yes i d- OI James you can’t snog her under our noses like that.”

So silly to think they’d dislike you for the way you looked. It was a battle for who would get to sit next to you in the great hall for dinner. What else would you expect for something like this? You would be sure to make it known you’ll fight for them the same way that they fight for you.

And they would always fight for you.

---

@sunny-bunnny @quindolyn @midnightgremlin @weasleyposts @bluemoonyblurbs @emmaev @agalandhermarvelobsession

#Sirius Black #sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #Remus Lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #James Potter #james potter x reader #james potter smut #Marauders #marauder smut #marauders x reader #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter Smut #fanfiction #smut

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lesberrian · 2 years

Text

Better Yuu than me

ok first i just wanna say that for the first like three chapters AT MOST the teachers will be slight ooc bc idk how to write for them nor know how to get the plot going without making my Oc have a small y/n moment. also she isn't mc/yuu btw. anyways ty for reading and im already working on the 2nd chapter so don't be impatient

What in the anime Disney?

With a groan she shuts her eyes tighter, cracking her neck after waking up. Moving to stretch her arms she hits what feels like a wall, maybe some type of wood? She isn't able to tell.

Finally opening her eyes she sees --nothing, actually. Unable to tell what's in front of her, she feels around, coming to the rational conclusion she was trapped in a box.

"Wait a damn minute…" Now mostly awake and conscious, she starts to realize that she was trapped. Inside a human-sized box. Great.

Moving her hands around more, pushing on the walls to the front and side of her, the girl realizes that it was coffin-shaped. She was in a coffin.

Panic sets into her mind as she closes her eyes tighter than before. "Just wake up, just wake up, wake up, wake up, wakeupwakeupWAKEUP!"

She bangs her head against the front of the coffin and the panic turns cold and dead. She… she had felt that. As much as her head hurt, the dread forming a knot in her stomach was worse than anything she ever felt.

"I am… six for under, in who knows where trapped in my own coffin." Her throat feels dry and her knees give out slightly. "I am… so dead."

Groaning, she decides to at least try and live. Bringing her leg up she has just enough room to put it against what she hopes is the door to the coffin. She uses all her strength she had to push it or anything at all that would prove it wasn’t bolted down or buried.

Luckily for her, she was able to push the door to the ground. Unluckily for her, she had gotten in a fight with someone and karma came to kick her ass. She fell down with the door as she managed to push from the back of the coffin. What she meant to be several curse words that would have her aunt make her wash her mouth out with soap came out and a grumble of ineligible groans.

“Holy shit what the fuck?!” Those words come back as a man with a bird mask looms over her. Her leg shoots up to kick him in the face but he stands straight up, leaving her leg standing above her awkwardly.

The two stare at each other for a moment before she dashes off like a frantic squirrel. The man chases after her but to his dismay, she was unnaturally faster than him. After losing sight of her he dramatically sighs, sending out a message to anyone on campus there’s a lost teen that needs to be brought to his office.

Away from the man in the mask, the young girl had found herself in what seemed to be a library. Wandering around she fears what would happen if she ran into the masked man again. He was only slightly taller and she was without a doubt physically faster and stronger than him, she had already proved part of that earlier. Still, there was something about him that made him seem so… powerful. Like he had some kind of magic power that could beat her without trying.

After a few minutes of hiding out in the library, she decides to move somewhere else. Maybe get off the campus or find a phone. “Oh my god, a phone.” She facepalms. She facepalms and goes to grab her phone out of her pocket. “....Or not. Actually.”

With no phone, she had no way to contact anyone. Also missing her wallet she had no identification as well. With a long, tired, sigh. She manages to make her way out of the library and onto a street lined with statues.

Because it was dark she couldn’t properly see the statues but some of them seemed to resemble… “Is that the fucking lion king dude?”

She could make out the Queen of Hearts, Maleficent, and Ursula as well. The others she decided to leave alone when she heard whistling not far from her. Hiding behind a statue of what she would assume is another Disney villain she prays to God that the person would just walk by her. This place was weird and with Disney statues, she can only assume the amount of trouble she would be in if she was found. Disney can be scary.

Unfortunately, the world decided to say ‘fuck you’ in any way possible and the whistling only got closer, stopping right in front of the statue she was using as a hiding spot. Everything falls dead silent as she waits for something to happen.

As if nothing happened the other person started whistling again and right when she thought she was safe, a man with magenta eyes hung over her upside down, his hat falling onto her lap.

“Why hello, little imp!” He smiles and just as his eyes close she takes the chance to move away. Before she could he grabs her by the wrist with the same smile from before. “ Hey hey, no need to run! Besides you still have my hat, no?”

She tosses his hat back to him with her free wrist and sits there. What does she do now?

‘He wasn’t insanely creepy like the birdman from the coffin room and so far hasn't tried to kill me yet. Then again he’s a dude so…’

“Sorry bro I’m still underage.” Probably not the smartest thing she’s said but at least he was laughing. “So uh, skull dude, how about you uh, ya know, just act like this never happen and let me go?”

Regaining his composure the man stands up with a smile and offers her a hand. She doesn't take it and stands up on her own, once again trying to walk away, only to turn around to see the so-called ‘creepy bird man’ staring at the two of them.

“Shhhhiiit…” Looking behind her, ‘Skull dude’ as she dubbed him, just puts a hand on her shoulder and smiles. Now that there was no chance for her to leave, she decides to try and plea. “Listen y’all I don't even know where I am. I didn't mean to break in but I’m pretty sure this is more on the kidnapping side since I woke up in a coffin and-” Her hand shoots up to catch what was flying at her. “That was rude.”

In her hand was a baseball with a faint golden glow to it. Her hand stung from the force of the ball but she didn’t let go. Both the adults stare at her, not knowing what to say. This teen girl had just caught a ball thrown by Vargas that was also enchanted.

The man with the bird mask clears his throat. “Uh, well then… As I’m sure you’re aware-”

“I’m not.”

“As I’m sure you’re aware,” He continues on as if she wasn’t there. “You’ve somehow landed yourself at Night Raven College, a prestigious school for tho-”

“Fuck you.” She barked, crossing her arms and glaring at him. “Who the hell wears that shit?”

As the young girl continues to hurl insults at him, the ball she caught flew out of her hands. Only to come right back at her with the same force as before.

For the second time today, she wakes up confused. Laying in what was most likely a nurse's office she sees the two men from earlier and three others. 'What's up with there only being dudes here? Am I in some creepy otome game that the captain like to play? I'm too young for this shit.'

Sitting up in the bed the group look over at her, neither she or they say anything until she slowly brings her hand up to her mouth and bites down.

"Ok so not dreaming this, had to check." She mumbles to herself. Looking up at them she says fuck it and try to act normal. "Sooo… I'm Mica Kingston… and I have no clue where I am or how I got here."

"Well, Ms.Kingston," The bird guy steps forward and stands infront of the bed instead of sitting in one of the many chairs. "Do you have any sort of identification on you?"

She shakes her head and he asks if she could tell him where she was. "Well you said Night Raven college. So there? And like I doubt you were able to bring me out of the country so at least America."

"America?" He asks, looking back at his colleagues to see if they recognize it. None of them seem to know where it is.

The oldest one there shakes his head. "Theres been no country named 'America' throughout Twisted Wonderland's history."

Unimpressed, Mica looks at them like they're drugged out. "Well considering I dont know what the fuck a 'Twisted Wonderland' is that's probably why. Now can we all stop pretending like we arent on Earth and-"

"You must be from another planet." The bird man cuts her off. It's not like it wasnt fair after the verbal attack she gave him. Pulling her up from the bed he tries to lead her out the door. "No matter, we will go to the mirror to sort this out."

Mica tips her arm away from him and steps back. "You cant just say shit like that and think I'm seriously gonna follow along? Are ya' on crack? I dont even know you!" She gestures at him aggressively before turning around and doing the same thing to the other men in the room. "Or them! Listen I'm not good at basketball just for speed or strength. Its cuz I'm not fuckin' stupid like you clearly think!"

"How old are you?" The one that strangely reminded Mica of Gaston asks.

"Right now? Sixteen but seventeen in- what month is it actually?"

"July 14." Mica looks over to the man and gave up hope on ever going home. This was a gender bent Cruella De Vil speaking to her right now.

Starting from the begining of the year she counts when her birthday would be. "Three months. Why?"

The bird man watches as the gym teacher, Vargas questions the girl like he wasnt there. Vargas looks at him with a smile and his hand on her shoulder (while she looks ready to kill him) and says, "The basketball team needs a manager and having a strong assistant would help!"

Scrambling away from him she makes angry hand gestures. "STOP JUST SAYIN SHIT THINKING I'LL AGREE BRO!"

A hand lands on her head and she blanks. "There. Be a good pup and behave."

'This bitch…' Mica takes a deep breath and claps her hands together. She stays silent a moment longer before sighing and opening her eyes. "Okay. First of all, I am too good to be reduced to a pathetic 'manager' and you could at least tell me your names. I'm currently calling you things like bird man and skeleton dude. Plus, I wanna go home."

if you read this far ty and yes like i said ooc but it will get better probably next chapter. also this take place a year b4 the main story so no overblotting for a bit. And since it happens a year b4 im gna have some other oc ppl so if u wanna have ur oc in the story or give sugestion lemme know bc ill put them in = obvi give credit and I'll send u the chapters theyre in so you can see if it works

for I am gracious

#LMAO SORRY I HAD TO ADD THAT #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x oc #twst oc #twisted wonderland fic #dire crowley #divius crewel #mozus trein #anyways shes so much fun #also kinda based her off aomine so idk if she shld get along w leona or hate him lol #hes just the lion version of him tbh honest

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years

Note

Imagine if the suitors went to the beach for a whole day in the modern world...what crazy crap do you think will happen

Here are a handful of crazy and/or cute headcanons that came to mind! :D

-Mozart swatting away seagulls because HE IS TRYING TO EAT IN PEACE

-Jeanne watching him, MC offering him two water guns with a silent nod (sunglasses on, we’re going full meme)

-Jeanne then proceeds to shoot at them (no gulls were harmed in making of this promotional video) and his aim is impeccable it would be disturbing if the thwarted squawking wasn’t so funny

-Little kids start swarming around Jeanne asking how he’s so amazing and wanting to play team battles, inviting him to join

-Napoleon encourages him, and even Mozart joins in despite not liking getting wet very much (he wants Jeanne to have some positive fun times bc he BIIIIIIIG depressy)

-In the end they both admit to having fun, and one of the kids even teaches Jeanne a special ten step handshake (Jeanne has no idea what that was but the kiddo was smiling so he figured he’d go with it)

-HE AND MOZART STILL SECRETLY USE THE HANDSHAKE FOR FUNSIES BUT TELL NO ONE BECAUSE THEY DON’T LIKE F U N DON’T LOOK AT THEM

-Dazai, alternatively, gathers the fallen gull army and becomes their god with a singular cylinder of Pringles. No I will not elaborate--THE SEA GULLS GOT HER!!!!!!!!

-Spends most of the beach day wetting his feet in the tide pools and talking very earnestly to the gulls about this new thing he learned about called tax evasion while people pass by this fucker in full kimono at the beach and are convinced he’s lost it

-Dazai is very much not sane but we knew this already, offers sea shells to little kids that ask him what he’s doing and tells them to listen to the secrets bird friends can tell them

-If Dazai sounds like an Animal Crossing Villager, that was entirely by accident but remains no less true

-Surprising absolutely no one, Arthur suggests volley ball after watching people play and invites some pretty ladies to join him

-Arthur ends up needing two more people to play, so he invites Vincent and Theo (Vincent is so excited about trying something new that Theo can’t say no despite wanting to make a volleyball-shaped crater in Arthur’s face)

-The funniest part about the volleyball game is that not only is Arthur a shit player (CANON WEAK ARMS FOOL) Theo destroys with his spikes, and Vincent’s reach is insane--the two brothers end up becoming the talk of the beach

-I just laugh imagining Vincent sincerely complimenting people around him and the ladies swooning because he’s just so nice and pretty is he even real

-Men aren’t happy about that^TM but at the sight of Theo’s defensive glower they keep their malicious traps shut--which turn on whichever girls weren’t interested in Vincent jahkslgjh

-**Kaguyasama narrator voice** Today on Arthur Shenanigans: Arthur loses

-Poor Isaac is hiding under the umbrella clutching sunscreen bc HE IS A PASTY BOY HELP HIM

-MC brought a few of the newest Maths/Physics books in her time for him to read, and while he doesn’t enjoy the intensity of the sun--not like vamp weakness, it’s just the strain on his body (too many stimuli too many people too much noise) that makes him tired and ultimately thirsty bc aberrant. But the change of scenery's not so bad.......

-MC laughs when she gets out of the water and the salt dries visibly on her skin, Isaac’s eyes bug out and he asks if it hurts (startles when Leo flicks sea water at him and asks how on earth they got in the water when it’s so cold!!!)

-Leo chats with him and he likes being able to draw theorems and the like in the sand, it’s like one big chalkboard (until a kid tramples across them in the middle of writing, POPPYCOCK!). Isaac ultimately has fun but prefers to stay inside poor bub

-Leonardo, surprising no one, falls asleep in the sand the second he gets there HE IS HOME (Italian beaches, amirite)

-MC decides to, after a point, bury him fully in the sand for shits

-Comte notices and aids in her shenanigans from his beach chair, snickering the whole time

-When the two are satisfied they go for a swim together, trusting Leo to look after Isaac if need be (even if he’s a mummy rn)

-Comte is relieved to hear that she knows how to swim, but also watches carefully and doesn’t let her drift out too far by keeping closer to the shore himself (riptides!!!! can be!!!!!!! dangerous!!!!!!!!!!) if he had his way (he would never impose but he worries ;-;) she’d be wearing floaties SAFETY FIRST

-They splash at each other like maniacs and chat amiably until they start swimming away as fast as possible when Leo wakes up, laughing

-How do we know that Leo woke up?

-Because he sat up ramrod straight and a tower of sand fell. He then proceeded to jump up and sprint to the water despite Isaac’s startled cries about being careful, and swam after them like a shark to get his revenge (it was like something out of an anime s2g)

-Mostly just tugs on MC’s leg, picks her up in the water, and yeets her across in retaliation; really harmless, she’s cackling the whole time

-Dunks Comte’s head in the water while he’s being scolded, and MC has to de-escalate their increasingly dangerous shenanigans before the life guard comes after them LMFAO

-They concede only bc MC looks sad/worried abt being kicked out, and agree to keep things fun FIGHT TO THE DEATH LATER TONIGHT

-Napoleon goes for a nice long walk along the shoreline and climbs the rocks if he finds any til he gets to the top (he does not go to his happy place HE GOES TO HIS HIGH LONESOME PLACE) wishes that Jupiter could be here to enjoy the brine

-Our boy Napoleon is simply just vibin he loves the beach. A little further off the sound of people is p muted, it’s just the crashing waves and crisp smell of salt, the light breeze ruffling his hair

-Sebas is absolutely watching through binoculars and writing down how majestic Napoleon is while making sure no one gets lost/wrecked as he takes notes

Bonus: since volleyball games can often happen back to back on a sizable beach, the boys^TM were playing and Arthur called out “Theo duck!!!!” and just as Theo was saying “Are you fucking kidding me did you really think I’d--T H W A C K” Theo gets nailed in the back of the head (Arthur later died after being put in a headlock)

Shakespeare didn’t feel like playing volley ball and didn’t have much else to do (can’t swim and has no interest), so he just sat back and tried to throw Theo off his game as much as possible

Por ejemplo: Theo misses a serve and Shakespeare just “For never was there a story of more woe; O bard Alexa, verily, play us Despacito” “SHUT THE FUCK UP”

Jeanne also gets hit by a stray volley ball, but when Vincent said “Oh no, Jeanne, duck!” he has one of either two reactions: 1. Boulevard of Broken Dreams plays obnoxiously loud as he dodges inhumanly fast 2. he quacks, gets nailed, and doesn’t react because he doesn’t have any brain cells to damage

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blushingbaka · 4 years

Text

love like summer rain;

✰ part one ✰ read prologue here ✰

|| summary - bokuto was never your first pick as a co-counselor, but eight weeks is plenty of time to change your mind

pairing: bokuto x fem!reader genre: fluffy camp counselor au, slow burn, mutual pining length: 1.8k

✰ a/n: mmm these were only supposed to be drabbles, but they’re turning out longer than expected hehe i’m having too much fun writing this though bc it allows me to reminisce on my old summer camp experiences !! i didn’t have a bokuto tho :’( but anyways i hope you enjoy this as much as i do <3

⋆week one⋆

It’s been three days since the campers arrived and you were exhausted. The second night was always the worst with all the campers forced to stay awake with either their excited restlessness or heavy feeling of homesickness. Every time your light slumber was interrupted by giggling or sniffling you would glance over to the other female counselor in your cabin Yukie to see who would handle it. She, like you, was assigned the eight-year-olds, but her co-counselor was Akaashi who was sharing the conjoined boy’s cabin with Bokuto. You had wondered how their night had gone, but it was hard to tell since Bokuto had greeted you as brightly as usual that morning.

Even now in the sweltering heat of the afternoon, there was no sign of his energy draining, and he almost seemed to be as impatient as the kids to get a canoe out on the water, bouncing on his toes. You hung in the back, happy to let a couple of the rec staff explain to the kids the basics such as how to move their paddles and how to properly wear a life jacket. Even though your campers seemed to be jittering with excitement, they thankfully had the wide focused eyes of rapt listeners. You were quite content being assigned eight-year-olds. Most of them seemed to be comfortable with the room of independence you gave them, but they were also innocent and sociable creatures, easily getting along with one another. You had been relieved when you weren’t assigned the preteens. You had handled them before, but that was with the aid of Kuroo, who just seemed to have a talent for connecting with them and coaxing their guard down.

As the rec staff began distributing life jackets, you wove your way through the campers making sure they had all fastened it correctly. Despite heaviness weighing on your eyelids, you couldn’t help but mirror their smiles as they hurried to the edge of the water, claiming a canoe and a partner. They had single kayaks for the counselors, so when it seemed most of the campers were cleared you lazily made your way over to the vest rack, where Bokuto was already standing, struggling to fasten his own. With his tongue poking out and eyebrows pinched together in concentration, you found it hard to suppress your urge to laugh. Even at first glance you could tell the vest Bokuto was fighting to fit around his chest was too small, but you were feeling too amused to immediately point that out.

“Having problems?” You cocked up one eyebrow, maintaining a calm expression as you reached for a vest your size. His eyes went wide at your voice, and you swore a pink hue dusted the tip of his ears as he stopped fumbling with the clasps.

“I think you might have grabbed a size too small” you continued easily slipping your own vest on your shoulders.

“No way! I grabbed the biggest size there was!” He insisted shimming off the life jacket so he could look at the size again. “See look right here! It says XL” he thrusted the vest towards your face. Again you found yourself pinching your lips together not wanting your laughter to offend him. Akaashi had advised you to avoid evoking a dejected Bokuto, which was advice you didn't take lightly.

“And what does it say under the XL?” You softly prompted. He knitted his eyebrows scrutinizing the words you gestured to. You had to acknowledge that it was partially faded from years of use, but the word Bokuto managed to look over was ‘kids.’

If you weren’t right about his ears being red before, they were definitely painted with the bright shade now, and his shoulders partially slumped in embarrassment. Not giving him much time to dwell on his mistake and not wanting to give your eyes time to linger on his exposed chest, you took the small vest from his hands and found him a more suitable one.

“Here” you held it open for him so he could slide his arm in. Your action caused his lips to curve up in a cute bashful manner, and as he pushed his arm through your fingertips grazed his warm, bare skin. He only wore the faintest sheen of sweat, and you couldn’t comprehend how he wasn’t melting in this heat. Too lost in your thoughts, you had instinctively started buckling the clasps, and Bokuto’s warm hand enveloped yours.

“Y-you don’t have to do that y’ know” Bokuto stuttered. Blinking your eyes rapidly, you suddenly pulled your hand away as if his touch had burned you. Bokuto stared at you his own eyes wide in surprise. Thankfully you quickly regained your composure, managing a short, shaky laugh.

“Sorry force of habit” you patted his covered chest before immediately heading towards the water, not wanting him to see any more of you in this awkward state.

Once you got out on the lake, your nerves eased, and you found yourself smiling contently as a slight breeze caressed your face. The campers’ laughter and efforts to coordinate strokes filled the empty space, and you noticed a particular pair stuck on a part of the lake’s shore, struggling to propel themselves back into deeper water. Somewhere within the time it took you to help them out, Bokuto decided to go on a splashing spree, filling your ears with the campers’ high-pitched and hysterical laughter as they tried to row fast enough to escape his range. You watched in amusement as even a pair of your campers who seemed to have their stroke patterns down also found the distance between them and their male counselor narrowing. They were no match for the strength of Bokuto’s strokes, his biceps bulging with every time he pushed his paddle into the water.

You found yourself moving closer to the action and just as you reached them, Bokuto had successfully doused them with repetitive splashes, their shrills of giddy laughter being broken up only by their half-hearted demands for him to stop. In all his enthusiasm, Bokuto hadn’t even realized you were practically right beside him. Taking advantage of the distraction, you gracefully skimmed your paddle across the surface of the water, taking pride in the fact your splash mostly got the back of his head. The sudden sensation of water striking him caused him to whip around, and his kayak wobbled momentarily with his sudden shift in weight.

“Y/N!” His mouth fell open as he stared at you with his wide, golden eyes. “We’re supposed to be on the same side!” It was hard to acknowledge his whiny tone when that playful glint in his eyes only seemed to increase by your actions.

“Sorry” you shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly, smirking. “You looked hot, so I thought I’d help you cool off” knowing what was coming next you began to move your kayak backward.

“Oh no, you don’t. You better prepare for my biggest splash yet” he boldly declared, easily guiding his kayak to face yours. Coming to the conclusion that he was close enough, he went in to glide his paddle across the water, but again enthusiasm was his downfall. He dipped his paddle too far into the water, and with the momentum of his swing, his kayak tilted all the way over. It happened so fast, you barely caught the flit of realization on his face before it disappeared under the water.

You and the campers that had gathered around to watch their counselors’ antics stared wide-eyed at the water, which Bokuto popped out of moments later, his head bobbing as the life jacket raised above his shoulders. He looked impossibly small with only his head visible and his hair sticking messily to the front of his face. Over your momentary shock, a throaty, genuine laugh shook your body, causing you to double over. A chorus of the kids’ laughter joined you, and you finally glanced back to Bokuto, letting out a final breathy chuckle.

“I’m sorry Bokuto. I didn’t mean to laugh so hard, but…” hearing your voice he shook his head vigorously from side to side, splaying small droplets of water across the surface of the lake. His hair no longer hung in front of his eyes, but now gently framed his face in a way that was foreign to you. Your words became stuck in your throat, taken off guard by this new image of Bokuto you were presented with. He looked somehow softer. There was no trace of embarrassment in his features, and instead, he seemed to be gazing fondly up at you, a toothy grin on his face. In an instant, your chest had tightened and your cheeks began to heat up, so you forced yourself to advert your gaze. That turned out to be a mistake as you missed Bokuto’s fond expression morph into a mischievous one.

“Hey hey hey!” he yelled, features impossibly bright. “Who wants to see, not one, but two counselors dunked into the water!” he raised his fists into the air, and your body went taut with realization. Of course, the kids were all too quick to cheer him on, the traitors, and he was at your side in no time, a blatant smirk on his face as his hands gripped the side of your kayak.

“Bokuto, don’t you da-“ but he had already tipped your kayak over, submerging you in the water. You rose back up quickly, sputtering and shaking your head. As you gently kicked your legs back and forth, you realized the water was surprisingly cool, but you didn't have time to focus on it too long. The first face you saw was the triumphant one belonging to Bokuto, and you narrowed your eyes at him although it didn’t seem to faze him.

“Sorry” he used a teasing tone. “You looked hot” he parroted your words from earlier, sticking out his tongue, and displaying no effort to hide his smugness. You tried to come up with a nice retort, but sudden loud splashes distracted you. It had seemed your and Bokuto’s antics had inspired the campers to ‘accidentally’ upset the balance of their canoes, causing them to join you in the water. You and Bokuto looked at each other at the same moment with this realization, causing you both to fall into soft, care-free laughter.

That amusement was extinguished when you realized you had to help all of them back into their canoes, but at that moment you were filled with blissfulness. Your exhaustion had melted away, and the cool droplets of water clinging to your face soothed you. Looking up to the sky, you saw that it was completely clear; however, the small thought crossed your mind that summer rain might not be so bad on a day insufferably hot as this one. Despite being an unpredictable and relentless force, it offered a reprieve from the blistering sun, which was a feeling you were sure you'd find yourself embracing now and again. And so, looking at the broad, gleeful grin Bokuto wore as he continued to play with campers, you thought maybe you could also learn to embrace the presence of Bokuto Koutarou.

✰ continue reading... part two ✰

#bokuto x reader #bokuto fluff #haikyuu x reader #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu bokuto #Bokuto Koutarou x reader #haikyuu reader insert #bokuto series #bokuto imagine #camp counselor au #haikyuu fanfiction #love like summer rain series

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assassins-and-hidden-blades · 4 years

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Interrogation

15/06/2020: Sooo, hi there. Me and @marshmallow--3 were talking (once again) and we got to talking about how assassins would react while being interrogated. Naturally, I like my dark fics + my hurt/comfort fics, so this came out. It’s an experiment than unashamedly spans 4.5K words, but I enjoyed writing it and after a bit of convincing I decided to post it. I worked surprisingly hard on this. I also like putting my characters through their paces. This can also be considered as an ‘asshole writing 101′ course for me bc everyone knows I need it lmao. Okay, enough justification; just... here -- have Jacob needing a lot of hugs :) heed the warnings, friends -- you have been warned. Spoilers for the fic in the warnings, btw

Feedback is greatly appreciated :D

Also, mainly GN!Reader (apart from the first scene) :)

Italics are thoughts bt-dubs.

Warnings: Swearing, violence, beaten for information, abduction, sick mention, PTSD mention, Night terrors, naked mention (sfw we good)... Yeah I got a bit carried away here :3 (if I missed any please lmk)

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“Jacob, we need that intel.”

“Why does it have to be me? I prefer to have my weapons on my person, if you don’t mind.” Jacob was sitting at the desk everyone was talking around, feet crossed on the desk.

“Maybe it’s because it’s a Gentleman’s Club, and women don’t necessarily fit in; if they find a single blade on you, the entire mission is compromised.” Evie looked pointedly at her brother.

He looked to you for help, but you held your hands up in surrender. “Don’t look at me; she’s got a point.”

Sighing, he rose to his feet, leaning against the wood and drumming his fingers against it. “Fine. Who am I tailing again?”

----------

“Weapons, please.” Evie stopped him before he could go anywhere.

“What weapons?” He smiled innocently at his sister, while you scoffed amusedly from behind her.

She said nothing, and instead held her hand out expectantly. Obstinately, Jacob relented, pulling out his cane sword and giving her his thigh holster. “All of them.”

His kukri came out of his waistcoat.

“All. Of. Them.”

His gauntlet was reluctantly confiscated. As was his revolver.

Evie raised an eyebrow. “Alright, fine!” He reached into his boot and pulled out another knife. “How did you know?”

“I saw you hide it.”

When they were finished, you walked up to him. “Be back by tonight. Alright?” You kissed him softly. He broke apart and gave you a reassuring smile. “You’ll barely notice I’m gone.” As the train came to a stop, you watched as he blended into the crowd at the station, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

----------

The courier Jacob was supposed to tail wasn’t too hard to find. Bowler hat, stocky build, weird scar on his cheek… All he had to do was get close enough to hear the password, get in and get out.

But first, he had to follow him there. In unfamiliar territory. No gangs, no Rooks.

Jacob left his top hat on the train, opting for using his hood as an added source of anonymity as he stalked his target. The streets were busy, and he lost eyes on the man’s bowler hat once or twice, but all in all, it was going smoothly. They were halfway down a street when the target crossed the road and went into an alleyway, sparse of people.

Jacob looked both ways before crossing after him, walking through as naturally as possible, in case he runs into people he would rather avoid. The road took him into a clearing blocked in by buildings, but not a man in sight. His brows furrowed, confused at where his target could have gone. Looking around, he saw that there was only one exit, and that was behind him. There was no way the target could have circled back around without him noticing.

“Wait a second…”

There were multiple small clicks, before multiple people came out of nowhere, all pointing firearms at him. Jacob raised his hands in surrender, taking small, calculated steps backwards. “Let’s just take it easy for a moment; I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding.”

“Our boss wants you alive. I couldn’t really care. It’s best if you cooperate, Mr Frye; I’m thinking you’ll put up less of a fight dead.” The hammer was pulled down with a resounding ‘click’ for good measure. The more Jacob observed, the more Templar crosses he could find.

Oh, for the love of--

Before he could react, two feet came into contact with the back of his knees, and he was forced face down to the ground. His shoulders were pinned as his arms were forced behind his back. He blindly managed to hit someone with his elbow, but it never released any pressure as he felt thick rope cinch around his wrist and knotted tightly, lest he manage to break free of them. “Are you certain we can’t come to some sort of agreement?” His words came out half mumbled, as his face was pushed against the mud.

All too suddenly he was pulled back up to his knees, a very gruff sounding “Get up,” mumbled in his ear. The one seemingly in charge of this whole operation stood in front of him. Sounds of an approaching carriage came closer. Assessing the distance between the two, Jacob smirked. “I hate to disappoint you, but I’m spoken for.”

The man standing over him didn’t react. “Do it,” he said to the people holding him.

Jacob’s jaw was prised open before a rag was forced in, a bag coming over his head a moment after. He was pulled roughly to his feet and couldn’t get a stable footing before a force threw him backwards, landing on the floor of the carriage with his hands trapped under him. A noise escaped his throat. Jacob could only hope to use his sense of hearing as he shuffled backwards to lean against the door behind him, as multiple people entered the carriage and shut the door -- to supervise, no doubt. The wall was hit two times, and the horses began to trot.

The journey was the only time he could hope to escape; who knows how they’d be keeping him once they arrived.

He couldn’t help cursing himself under his breath, but it was only comprehended as a random noise to the others in the cab. Jacob began to wiggle his fingers, digits searching the wall behind him for something sharp, like a nail or some splintered wood. His fidgeting must have been noticed, because someone lightly kicked his leg. “Don’t even think about it.” He felt something cold press against his temple, a click sounding in his left ear. He held an involuntary breath as light chuckles rippled around the carriage.

“Forgive me for not finding this funny…” he quipped inwardly.

The gun barrel mockingly shoved Jacob’s head to the side, a silent threat, before withdrawing.

He had a three mile long argument to have with Evie after this.

He tried to swallow, pushing down the rising anxiety in his throat. Is there a way out of this that wouldn’t end with a bullet in his brain?

There must be.

His fists clench and unclench restlessly as he thinks. Or, tries to think.

All he could decipher was the carriage turning right, pressing him against the wall behind him, before stopping. There was a long moment of waiting, before the door he was leaning against opened. He fell to the ground, the air knocked out of him. Without giving him a moment to collect himself, hands grabbed his arms and pulled. His orientation was in shambles; he couldn’t figure out which way was where.

There were momentary pauses as doors opened, and just as he had begun to breathe properly, he was shoved. His balance was thrown off, and wood bit into him as he rolled down an incline. He hit the floor ungracefully, half haphazardly dragging a knee up; he was pushed down some stairs. Stifled groans were muted by his gag as they yanked him up again, pushing him down onto a chair. Multiple people tightly bound his ankles to the legs and his wrists between the rungs, the pressure pinning him down causing his heart to skip a beat.

He hated this feeling of restriction; of being exposed. He knew he had no control. He knew he was fucked.

His head began to throb, no doubt an injury from his tirade with the stairs. As the people around him left, he tested his bonds. There was no give whatsoever; the rope bound his wrists to the rungs behind him, pulling his shoulders taut. He tried lifting his leg; he could bounce them, but that was it. It was instinct; the restless energy needing a bigger outlet. His anxiety was palpable, and he found himself exhaling through his nose multiple times in an attempt to calm himself down. He tried to look around through the material over his head, increasingly desperate, though he knew his chances of escaping were low now that they had him exactly where they wanted him. He briefly wondered whether he’d ever see natural daylight again.

… Shit.

He had no idea where he was; if he got out, then what? He’d have to cross that bridge when he comes to it.

If he comes to it.

Resigning himself to wait, he sat straight, challenging his bonds every now and then, hoping that the next time would be different.

It didn’t take too much longer for the door to open again, but the fear inside him was painful, squeezing his heart in an iron fist. He strained his ears, and heard multiple light footsteps, followed by a distinct pair of slow and heavy ones. They screamed authority as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

The bag was pulled harshly from his head, light blinding him as he squinted, trying to acquaint himself with the area around him. Jacob tried to swallow his anxiety as he took in the newcomer’s appearance; easily over six foot, and built of pure muscle.

Bloody hell.

Someone came up to him and pulled the gag out of his mouth. He tried re-introducing saliva as the man came closer, his small entourage disbanding around the room behind him.

“If this was so urgent, couldn’t you have booked a bloody appointment?”

The man chuckled, though there was no humour in his tone. He rubbed his wrist before he swung at Jacob’s cheek, whipping his head to the side.

His jaw was seized and pulled to lock eyes with the six foot tall interrogator. “I won’t stand for that; understand?” His voice was low and rumbled maliciously. Jacob glared at him defiantly, heart pounding in his ears. He responded by spitting blood in his face. The man recoiled violently, wiping the substance out of his eyes. Jacob exhaled amusedly through his nose.

Once the man recovered, he chuckled again. “Cute.” He walked over to Jacob, bending down to his eye level as he rolled up his sleeves. “Let’s start with an easy one; what’s your name?”

“Ethan.” He was met with a punch to the gut.

“I forgot to tell you; these first few questions? I know the answers to them. I know when you’re giving me bullshit.” He grasped his hair and harshly pulled. “Let’s try again; your name.”

He said nothing and was considering lying again, until the man gave another rough tug, threatening to yank his hair right out of his scalp. “Jacob.” He relented through gritted teeth, seething in frustration. His hair was released.

“Nice to interrogate you, Jacob.” The man took a step back and leaned on a table a few feet away. “I’m the Boss around here. See how easy things are when you cooperate?”

The assassin rolled his eyes.

“Now, I was told that you were, as you put it, ‘spoken for’.”

Jacob raised an unimpressed brow as he tried to hide the hitch in his breath.

“Who is it? A woman? A man?” Jacob left his expression unchanged. “I don’t judge!” The ‘Boss’ raised his hands. “I bet I can guess their name: Henry, Evie… Y/N, perhaps?” Jacob raised his chin and clenched his jaw, an involuntary defensive move as he listed his closest friend, his sister, and his lover all at once.

“You see,” the Boss sighed, pushing himself off the table. “Even if you don’t say anything, you’re just as good to us as bait. If you speak now, you could be saving everyone a headache. Just remember that.

“Now; why were you tailing that courier?”

----------

The session ended with a condescending backhand. “We’ll pick this up again later.”

Jacob smiled mockingly. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Once he was finally alone, his defiant front dropped, and he allowed himself to feel the pain in his torso. He groaned as he shifted in his seat, his ribs aching from the inside. He knew he wouldn’t give them any information, no matter how hard they tried to extract it. He instinctively tried to hold his side, but to no avail. His tongue ran over the cut on his lip, busted open time and again.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been; hours or days. But he’s tired, thirsty, and in pain. He can barely keep his eyes open, but his anxiety has kept him awake; an insomnia he could never quite shake. He was too tired to expend any of it physically; it was brewing inside him like a bad cup of tea. He couldn’t stop thinking about the threat of you, Evie, and even Henry. Even so, unless he could be sure his information would be able to counteract that, he kept it to himself.

His chin rested on his chest, and he was on the verge of passing out when the door opened again, causing him to jump and tense at the sudden loud noise. “Sorry I’m late; this is the only time I could slip in.”

The Boss took in Jacob’s tired eyes. “Did I wake you? Such a shame.” He laughed at his own quip.

“It’s fine; my schedule was open.” Jacob tried to bite back.

“Seeing as you weren’t doing so well answering our earlier questions, I decided to start on some different ones, this time.”

Jacob furrowed his brows. “What makes you think that I’d tell you anything?”

The Boss revealed items he was hiding behind his back. “Are you thirsty?”

Jacob tried to smirk at the jug and glasses, though it wasn't as wide as before. “Kind of you to offer.”

The Boss poured out all the water into a few glasses. “You can have as much as you want; just tell me what I want to know; what have you learnt about our current… agenda? Any heists being planned that we need to know about?”

There’s a few moments of silence, before Jacob spoke, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “We’ve decided to go on holiday for a few weeks, actually.”

The Boss huffed humorlessly. He grabbed a glass of water and brought it near to Jacob, before chucking it over his face. Trying not to react, Jacob only flinched. The liquid made the cuts on his face twinge. “That’s for lying.” Discarded on the table sat a pair of brass knuckles, spiked and gnarly. He picked them up, sliding them over his fingers before clenching a fist to test his comfort.

“I’m going to ask you this one more time…”

----------

“You’re going to be here for a long time, Frye. Get comfortable.”

Not likely.

The last words spoken to him felt like hours ago. He was drifting in and out of consciousness, his body forcing him to sleep by shutting down. Slumped forwards in his chair, his arms were the only thing holding him upright. His shoulders were numb. He tested his bonds again, as if they would magically loosen after all this time. Fingers stretching, he tried to get blood black in his hands. He rotated his wrists, wincing as the rope pinched his raw skin. His leg began to jump of its own accord once he was faced with his own hopelessness again.

How long would they keep him alive for? How long until help comes? They must have realised that he was missing by now, right?

He heaved unsteady breaths out of his lungs; keeping his composure was becoming increasingly difficult, and he was looking at the increased likelihood of coming face to face with his own mortality a lot sooner than he would have liked.

The only reason why he hadn’t starved was because of someone who came to feed and water him once a day, though he can barely stomach solids. “It will get easier if you tell them the truth.” They kept saying the same things over and over again.

“Stop it.” Jacob didn’t want to hear any more; his mind was conflicted -- whose side were they on?

“Just tell them what they want to hear; it will make it so much better for you.”

Jacob clenched his jaw and remained silent.

“Otherwise, they’ll keep beating you.” They prodded Jacob’s ribs, and he squeezed his eyes shut in pain, refusing to make a sound. They took off his coat a while ago, exposing his body for more beatings. “Food for thought,” they said as they left him in silence once again.

The only other time he would get contact with another human being is when they’d take him out of the room for a bathroom break; they’d undo the rope before rebinding his hands in front of him immediately, dragging him to the bathroom before he’s forced back into the same chair again, waiting for the cycle to repeat.

The familiar tell of nausea was growing, and his stomach had stopped holding down the food he’d been given. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on.

----------

He was awoken by a series of noises that blended into each other, incomprehensible from the next.

The door opened, and the Boss walked down the stairs, a serious expression on his face. “You have visitors, Jacob.” A fist came into contact with his gut, and for the first time his pain was vocalised. Though still stifled, the noise was noticeable. “It’s a shame, really. We were getting somewhere with you. Hopefully those allies of yours won’t be as stubborn.”

He grabbed a cloth and balled it up, being met with almost no resistance as it was pressed into Jacob’s mouth. “Not a sound.” He crossed the room at pace, unsheathing a knife as he closed and locked the door behind him.

The aftershocks of the assault on his gut still had him wincing, but as he heard gunshots and cries above him, he began to panic.

People he cared about could die, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

With every bang that erupted above him, his heart rate increased. He tried to weakly pull at the ropes again, and made a hopeless noise through the fabric in his mouth as he got nowhere. He was frustrated, anxious, and scared. The future was completely out of his control.

His body wouldn’t listen to his mind; it was slumped in the chair, all but exhausted. He couldn’t breathe. Fear clouded his mind, the adrenaline pushing him to his limits. It wasn’t until he tasted the salt in the gag that he realised that a few tears had escaped. He closed his eyes.

This wasn’t him. He needed to stay calm.

I’m not usually the praying type, but if anyone at all is up there, keep them safe…

Please…

“Please…” It sounded like a groan but he said it; he was never one to beg, but he’d do anything to know what the hell was going on up there.

Everything stopped when he heard it.

“Jacob?”

He barely moved, his mind clouded, but his heart swelled in relief at the voice -- a relieved noise that became stifled in his throat. But then, he remembered what was said to him.

He was bait.

He flinched as the door was kicked down, fists weakly clenching behind him. Footsteps came down the stairs.

He heard someone kneel in front of him. “Jacob? Hey, it’s me.” His face was taken into gentle hands, and the fabric was taken out of his mouth. “Jesus… Can you open your eyes, Jacob?” Slowly, he did, eyes heavy with exhaustion. You were in front of him, visibly relieved at his responsiveness.

“No… Please, leave.” He tried to pull his face out of your hands.

“They’re dead, Jacob. We’re safe; you’re safe now.”

The ropes around his wrists broke, and he gasped in pain as he fell forward into you, hands slowly coming up to grasp your arms. Evie had moved to Jacob’s ankles, quickly cutting his bonds. “We were given false intel from the beginning; it was always going to be a trap.”

You pulled back. “Can you walk?”

Jacob nodded, the action dizzying him. You pulled his arm over your shoulders and pulled him to his feet, hissing in pain at the movement in his torso. You stood him up, but he began to crumple almost immediately. Evie half caught him, copying your movements.

Slowly but surely, he was brought out into the open. It was overcast and miserable outside (not the greeting he was expecting). His vision swam with flecks of green. How you managed to bring Rooks out here, he didn’t know.

Gang members helped him into a carriage that was parked out in front, and you followed, helping him onto the seat. You lowered him down so he was lying on his back, his head in your lap. “How did you find me?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s a long story.” You pushed his hair out of his eyes, observing his wounds in worry. “I’m so sorry we didn’t come sooner.”

Jacob smiled softly and grasped your hand, rocking with the gentle movement of the carriage. “You came; that’s what matters.”

The soothing motion of your thumb over the back of his hand finally convinced his brain to shut down, engulfing him in the comfort of sleep.

----------

He was back in the cellar. Except this time, he wasn’t alone. There was someone across from him, he couldn’t tell who it was, but they were familiar. And they were screaming. There was no way for him to get them to stop, even as he began to beg, to plead, to volunteer information if they would just stop hurting them…

He startled himself awake, gasping. His eyes were open and alert, with his skin covered in a sheet of sweat.

He wasn’t in a cellar; he was in a bed.

Deep breaths, just take deep breaths. Everything is fine...

He tried to sit up, but before he moved an inch a pained gasp left his lips. He clutched at his torso, as if holding it would stop the pain. Once it began to subside, he lifted the sheet off of his body. He was shirtless, and he was wearing clean breeches. He raised an eyebrow, but that was low on his list of priorities. Instead, he saw green, blue, and purple bruises saturating his skin. Bandages were wrapped tightly around his chest, no doubt securing a few broken ribs. He threw his legs over the side of the pain, pausing at the fresh wave of pain washing over his body. His eyes were closed as the door opened somewhere, causing him to jump slightly. “Jacob, you’re awake!”

He looked up and smiled when he saw you come towards him. “How long was I asleep?”

“Over a day. Um, did you call for me, just now?” You heard him scream for you, most likely in his sleep.

“No, why?” He furrowed his brows as he watched your expression.

You decided to not pry, and instead let him tell you of his own accord, whenever that may be. “No reason; I must have been hearing things. Listen, you need to rest for a bit longer. You’ve taken a lot of damage.”

“Nonsense; I’m fine now.” He went to stand up, but sat back down as his world began to spin. “I’m not staying here… wherever we are.”

“We’re in Lambeth Asylum. We took you straight to Florence Nightingale.”

“Where’s Evie?”

“I finally got her to rest; she hasn’t been able to sleep at all since…”

“Sounds like her.”

“What happened, Jacob? When you didn’t come back that night, I thought you went to the pub or something, but you still weren’t back by the next day. How did you end up outside London?”

“Haven’t the foggiest. One moment, I was following a man in a bowler hat, and the next I was ambushed by about fifty Templars.” Your lips quirked at the exaggeration.

“I was so worried, Jacob. They almost killed you.”

“It’s going to take a lot more than fisticuffs to take me out.”

You took his face in your hands. “While we’re here, you need a bath.”

“And here I thought you were going to be romantic.”

“Aha. Cute.”

The word echoed in Jacob’s mind as you prepared the hot water. Absently, his hand ran over his bandages, replaying the memories in his mind.

“Jacob!”

“Huh?” He didn’t realise he was staring off into space until you looked at him with concern.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, fine.”

You went over to him and helped him up, supporting him over to the tub. “Get in.”

“If you wanted to--”

“Don’t finish that sentence; we’ve seen each other naked enough times.”

He chuckled, undressed and slowly sat in the warm water, with help from you. “What about the bandages?”

“I’ll replace them afterwards; they’re there to keep your ribs in place.”

As Jacob washed his lower half, albeit slowly, you got a clean rag and dipped it in the water before turning his face towards you. You wiped the grime away from the open wounds on his forehead and lip. “Ow.” He didn’t flinch, but he still voiced his pain in a deadpanned tone.

“Sincerest apologies,” you teased, for a moment it was silent, with Jacob watching you intently, before he nudged your hand away, leaning in to kiss you. It was a kiss he never thought he’d give you so soon; the ‘I-thought-I’d-never-see-you-again’ kiss. You broke apart, knowing exactly what he was feeling. “It’s alright now,” you reassured, swapping the rag for hair oils. He returned the smile you gave him, allowing himself to breathe.

You poured water over his head as you tilted it back, shielding his face from the liquid. Then, you massaged his scalp, watching as he slowly became more relaxed.

“What do I have to do to get this more often?” he murmured softly.

“Just ask,” you laughed.

“What do I have to do... to do this for you?” You washed out the suds in his hair, sweeping it back.

“Again, ask -- wait until you’ve healed though.”

“If I must.”

----------

On the outside, Jacob was healing fine.

On the inside, scarring was plentiful.

He was back on the train after a few weeks, glad to be somewhere he could call home. Though his mind always seemed to be somewhere else.

Walking around the carriages, he was mostly doing desk work; Evie’s way to keep him off the streets until his body was healed.

Night terrors frequently plagued him. He’d bring you into his arms at the end of the day, but as he fell further into his subconscious, he began to heave out frightened breaths. You would sometimes wake up when it was at its height, but other times his cries for help, his begs and pleads and calls of your name as he startles, would sit you up straight. You’d wake him up as gently as you could, waiting patiently for him to realise where he was and who you were, the fright slowly dissipating.

“It’s okay, it’s alright.” You’d hold him as tightly as he held you, as if you’d never hold each other again. “You’re safe; I’m safe. We’re okay.” These were the only times Jacob revealed just how hard the recent event had hit him, preferring to lock it away and pretending it wasn’t there instead of facing it for what it is.

Slowly, he’d recover.

Slowly, he’d heal.

Slowly, everything will return to normal.

#Hope you had fun reading this #just a small experiment #if people like it i might do it with the others #but you know #jacob frye #jacob frye x reader #jacob frye oneshot #jacob frye imagine #assassin's creed #assassin's creed x reader #x reader

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lutbys · 4 years

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Christmas Party

Day 1 of Christmas at Hogwarts:

1st – You and Draco are sworn enemies. Always have, always will. But an evening spent decorating the Slytherin common room has got you both rethinking your choices.

a/n: MY DUMB ASS! I woke up this morning to no notifications for day one and i was lowkey sad bc I thought no one like it but when I checked again, I POSTED IT PRIVATELY UGHHGUGG *biggest facepalm of the century. No, at this point I've smashed my head against the wall* So I guess its on the 2nd of December then hHHHH I’m truly sorry for my dumbmity.

Draco Malfoy x Slytherin reader

“You want me to do this all by myself!” you gawked at the boxes upon boxes of Christmas decorations Pansy dug up for tonight. “And how do you expect this to look good?”

“That’s where you come in silly! I’ve seen your decorating skills back home and its impressive. That’s why you’re our party decorator” Pansy replied, gleaming at the shiny tinsel and the mountain of fairy lights. Who knew there was enough space in this dungeon to store such cheerful items?

“But I didn’t agree to this stupid party in the first place!”

“Typical of y/n to back out at the last minute. What next? You didn’t plan on getting married so why host a wedding?” you hear Draco scoff as he descended down the stairs that lead to the dorms, his arms tucked into each other and his face disgruntled just like how he would every time he caught sight of you.

“Shut it Malfoy. I don’t see you being of much help either.” To that he only scoffed and turned his back to join in on a conversation with Blaise.

It wasn’t rocket science for anybody to realize you and Draco were never on the same page. Its been like this since the first year, from the awful hair pulling to sabotaging each other’s cauldrons during potions class. You never knew why but when you first caught sight of the boy, you’d knew you’d hate him.

“Now that the venue is all settled, Nott, Zabini and I are going to Hogsmeade for the snacks. Draco you coming?” Pansy ticked off errands from her endless to do list, her eyes racking through the list multiple times like the perfectionist she is.

“Waste my time walking around? No thank you.”

“Then its settled, Draco you can help y/n doll this place up. The faster, the better.” Before he could utter an excuse, the busy girl had pushed the two other boys away and exited the common room.

You stood in awe at the situation your best friend put you in. The two of you stood dumbfoundedly among the boxes as you raked your brain on how you were going to turn this musty dungeon into a welcoming hall.

“I suggest we throw all this shit out and call it a day.” Draco grunted, kicking a box of ornaments till it toppled and you watched as three glittery green globes fall and break into little pieces. “Unlike you, I actually have important things to do.”

“Like what? Being a git? Who do you think is going to clean that up Draco?” You bit back, pointing to the scatter of broken glass that once used to be delicate trinkets.

“you know what? I’ve had enough of you for today. I’m going to decorate this part of the room” You gestured your hands around the fireplace “And you can decorate all the way over there”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Draco agreed and moved over to the tables along with his pick of decorative items.

You’ve been staring at the fireplace for longer than you wished but your mind is blank. Completely blank. And you dreaded to turn and see how much Draco has done because all you’ve been hearing for the past half hour are the crinkles of the tinsel and his frustrated moans whenever the wrapping paper didn’t fold the way he wanted it to.

Your eyes shifted from box to box as you tried to come up with something creative. Sure, your living room back at home would look extravagant to guests but that was all mom’s doing, all you had to do was help put them up.

It was the absence of the gold chain that once perched itself on top of the dodgy Santa stuffy that caught your attention.

I swear I saw it a moment ago

You were also wondering why the gold star for the tree was missing too! After rummaging through the countless number of boxes, there was only one other person you could think of to have stolen it.

“Oi Malfoy! Next time you take something from my side, ask!” You rolled your eyes at his obliviousness.

“Why would I want things from your side? Mine looks better to begin with.” “Then where did the star for the Christmas tree go?” your confusion grew as he mirrored your expression. What is happening?

Just then, you caught sight of a little dark grey blob running across the room, its little feet making little to no noise against the carpeted floors. You and Draco turned to each other with wide eyes, Care of Magical Creatures taught you well enough to identify it as a Niffler, the little rodent who steals.

“What the hell are we going to do?” you whisper-shouted, eyeing the single seated sofa you last saw it run by.

“Its your problem y/l/n. I’m not touching that thing.”

“Don’t be daft Malfoy, if we don’t catch it, your stupid watch will be next!” Draco scoffed at your exaggeration, but his reaction quickly dimmed as he fingered his wrist at where his fathers watch used to be.

“My watch! You jinxed it you little minx.”

“See! If we don’t catch it now who knows what will be nex- Hey!” you watched the sly critter reach out for the string of tinsel on the floor, barely grabbing hold before going back into hiding.

Your feet worked faster than your brain as you lurched towards the sofa, trying to grab hold of its little tail but to no avail, it was faster. “Draco look out! He’s coming your way!”

Before it could dodge the white-haired boy, Draco had caught it swiftly. The poor creature tried to wriggle himself to escape, but Draco’s grip was stronger. “Hagrid’s right. It does feel funny.” His face grimaced at the sight of the thing, its flat beak and teeny arms was not sitting right for him.

“From what I remember, all you have to do is hold it by its hind legs and shake it.” You watched him follow your instructions and everything instantly fell out of its pocket. From coins to a small piece of confetti, it rained gold. You laughed in bewilderment at the sight in front of you. Sure, you’ve learned anything and everything about these magical creatures but having the opportunity to see one in real life was quite a scene to remember. It seemed Draco too was amused with the sight.

“What a cheeky little rat! Look at all he’s stolen.” Draco said after trapping the Niffler in a nearby crate. “I don’t think this is the only house he visited.” He held out a gold Gryffindor badge that once belonged to a prefect.

“That was pretty impressive. Never seen one in my life!” your hand raked through the lost knick-knacks like it was a treasure chest. “I’m going to put this back, Pansy should be back anytime now and I know she’d freak if she came back to this mess.”

Draco too took the liberty of scooping from the pile and just then, your hands touched. You couldn’t tell if it was the adrenaline of having seen a Niffler or never have had contact with Draco, but it felt different. Almost, nice.

It was when you looked up when you realized how close you both were to each other, close enough that your breaths mingled, close enough that if your lips were to touch-

“We’re back and we’re ready for the biggest party yet!” Pansy excitement boomed from the picture frame they entered through; her hands filled with bags from Honeydukes.

Like acid being poured over, you both pulled away instantaneously. “What the hell happened in here!” The once happy girl’s smile went agape when she saw the mess beyond her. The chairs were toppled, the lights that were supposed to be on the walls were scattered on the floor, and a suspicious looking crate was moving on its own.

“We had a bit of a Niffler situation” you scratched the back of your neck guiltily, you had failed the one task you were given, and miserably at that. “But it’s okay! I promise you I will fix all of it.” Your words seemed to encourage her, knowing her trust on you was strong.

“You have an hour and an HOUR only.”

“The most memorable party of the year!”

“This beats Gryffindor’s for sure”

You rolled your eyes at the cocky compliments thrown around, knowing well enough it all came from your group of friends. You didn’t know how, but you miraculously made this place lively with the time given. Having your friends entertain you whilst at it added bonus points. Now, you awed at how the lights made the room glow and the green, black and white banners hung proudly by the fireplace.

But one thing kept running through your mind as the party went on in full swing.

Draco.

You couldn’t get this afternoons incident out of your head. You never noticed how his eyes were so mesmerizing and his scent so intoxicating that you would have all your clothes doused to smell like it.

And he couldn’t get you out of his head too.

Draco stood lonely near the staircases, having no mood to mingle as he was knackered from the days events. But it was also an excuse to think over things when it came to you. He rewinded the scene over and over again, wondering what would happen it the moment never stopped, if Pansy wouldn’t have opened her loud mouth and disturbed them.

You both parted -quickly at that- as soon as the group came back, not daring to look into each others eyes for the rest of the evening.

But here you were, searching through the crowds for the one pair of eyes that had made your heart stop.

And you found them.

Staring straight back.

#Draco Malfoy #Draco #draco x reader #prompt #hogwarts #christmas #draco x you #draco x oc #draco smut #draco

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ificanthaveu · 5 years

Text

Snow in California || Shawn Mendes

Description: After a snow emergency, Shawn is left having to spend Christmas with your family. It’d be completely fine if it weren’t for the fact that they all assumed he’s your boyfriend.

Description per my notes (aka JUMBLY): you’re stuck in LA for Christmas but lucky for you my family’s here so you can just come with me….except there’s a catch, I told my family I have a boyfriend

A/N: Dani is EARLY with a FIC? ya bc she got plans tonight ope anyway ok this is LOOSELY based on “Snow in California” by Ariana Grande, and that wasn’t on purpose but then I was thinking of a title and I’m like wait it’s kinda like the song so I just rolled with it bc this bitch sucks at titles :) also there’s a lil part that parallels “A Christmas Miracle” and I wanna see if anyone catches it ;)

Word Count: 5.9k

12 Days of Ficmas

You watched the clock carefully, waiting for it to hit noon so Shawn would be done with this interview and you could finally get something to eat. You clicked through emails and scheduled a few more things before it would start to die down with Christmas being two days away.

You got lost in trying to schedule an interview for Shawn when you felt something kick your foot. You looked up to see Shawn looking down at you.

“Ready for some damn lunch?” He said, obviously just as hungry as you were.

“Hell freaking yes,” you said as you slammed your laptop shut and followed him out the door to your car.

You threw your bag in the back seat and started down the road to a small restaurant the two of you had been wanting to try.

“When do you see your family?” Shawn asked once you pulled on top the main road.

“I’ll probably leave midday tomorrow. See my grandparents on Christmas Eve night, and then hang out with my family on Christmas Day,” you said with a smile, not being able to wait for it to be Christmas.

“Your flight leaves at 6:00 tomorrow, right?” you said as you glanced over at him.

He nodded his head with a small smile.

“It’s only three days, but I can’t wait,” he said softly.

You pulled into the parking lot, and Shawn stayed in the car while you ran in to grab your take out order. You got back in the car and plopped the large bag of food on Shawn’s lap.

“My place or yours?” You asked before you backed out.

“Mine. I need to bounce that song idea off you,” Shawn said.

You nodded your head, remembering what he had told you before.

“As long as we’re at that meeting at 5:00, we should be good,” you thought out loud as you turned onto Shawn’s street.

You and Shawn made your way up to his condo, getting ready to eat the food you could smell the whole ride home.

You opened his door and were met with his cheerfully decorated living room that he spent so much time on. You sat down by the island and started pulling out food, wanting to try a little bit of everything. Shawn sat across from you, taking the food as you handed it to him.

You ate in silence for a few minutes as you looked at your phones. A weather alert popped up. Blizzards around Toronto. You didn’t say anything, hoping it’d pass by or Shawn would never see it.

You set your phone down after a while, talking to Shawn about the interview he just did, and your plans for your few days you both got to spend at home. You couldn’t get the blizzard warning out of your head.

“Hey, did you see the weather warning?” You asked casually.

Shawn furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head.

“There’s supposed to be blizzards around Toronto starting tonight,” you said slowly and carefully.

Shawn’s face stayed blank, thinking it through. He picked his phone back up to check his email. His face dropped.

“My flight was canceled,” he said under his breath. He scrolled mercilessly, trying to refresh the page, hoping this was a mistake.

“Can you maybe find one for Christmas Eve?” You said, immediately pulling out your laptop to search for a new flight for him.

Thirty minutes of Shawn scrolling on his phone, and you looking at every possible way home on your laptop, it was hopeless. There were no flights going into Toronto until two days after Christmas.

You sat on the arm of his couch, watching him pace back and forth as he talked to someone from the airport. He tugged at his hair and finally sat down on the edge of the couch right next to you. You moved your hand carefully to his back, rubbing it up and down as he tried to speak calmly to the person on the other end.

“No…no, it’s fine. I get it. Yeah…thanks anyway,” Shawn said as he hung up the phone throwing it on the ground and resting his head in his hand.

You continued to rub his back, and after a moment, he leaned into you, resting the side of his head on your knee. You could feel his wet cheeks soaking into your jeans. You threaded your fingers through his hair, not talking quite yet.

You could feel his body shake as his shoulder bumped against your thigh. You moved your hand back down to his shoulders, resting your hand on his opposite one.

“I’m so sorry, Shawn,” you finally whispered.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he let out a sob he definitely didn’t mean for you to hear. At that, you gently pushed him over a little, moving directly next to him and pulled his head into your chest. He adjusted to lay on the couch, his long legs hanging off the end as he rested his head on your lap and you continued to play with his hair.

You typed out a quick text to Andrew, telling him what happened. He promptly canceled the meeting that was supposed to happen in an hour and asked if he could help with anything.

But there wasn’t.

Because it was two days before Christmas, and Shawn just found out he can’t spend it with his family.

Instead of saying that, you just told him you’d let him know.

You sat there with Shawn’s head laid in your lap for longer than you could keep track of. You watched the sunset from his living room window, still running your fingers through his hair as a gentle reminder that you were there when he needed to talk.

After probably an hour, he finally said, “This fucking sucks,” as he turned over to look up at you.

You nodded your head slowly as you looked down at him, “I know.”

It went silent again as he stared up at the ceiling.

“What am I going to do?” He said barely above a whisper.

“Anyone here will be glad to have you over. You could always go with Andrew or Josiah, and my family would love to have you as well,” you said.

“Would they?” He asked as his voice broke.

You nodded your head and said, “Of course, you know they love you.”

He fell silent as he continued to look up at you, and you awaited his answer.

“When are you leaving?” He asked.

“Tomorrow around 1:00 probably. We’re just going to my grandparents,” you explained. “And then Christmas morning we have breakfast and open gifts just with my family and spend the day lounging around doing absolutely nothing.”

“Are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding?”

“Shawn, my uncle’s ex-wife’s kids with her new husband came to our family Christmas last year. Trust me, everyone is welcome, especially you,” you said.

“Ok,” he mumbled. “Should I bring flowers or something?”

“You don’t have to, but my grandma is a sucker for flowers,” you said as a small smile finally spread across his face.

“I feel like I should get your family presents, too,” he said as he thought this all through.

“You know you don’t have to,” you said. “Your presence is gift enough.”

He finally sat up and stood up quickly, stumbling a little as the blood rushed from his head.

“Will you go Christmas shopping with me?” He asked quickly as he glanced at the time. “The mall should still be open for two more hours, and I don’t know what your family likes.”

You nodded your head and stood up, following him to the door and then to his car.

You took a few minutes in the car to call your parents and let them know.

“Hello, dear!” Your mom cheerfully answered her phone.

“Hey, how are you doing with the Christmas prepping?” You asked as you played with the bottom of your shirt.

“Really good! I wish you’d bring that boyfriend of yours though,” she said with a huff.

You side glanced at Shawn, hoping he couldn’t hear what your mom was saying to you on the phone. Your mom had been trying to set you up with every guy around your age for the past few months, so you told her you were seeing someone. You “refused to tell her his name” so she didn’t “stalk him on social media,” but really, he just didn’t exist.

“Well, I am bringing someone actually. Shawn’s coming with,” you said.

“I should’ve known Shawn was the guy you were seeing! The way you two are always together even when you’re not working. Oh! Your dad will be so happy to hear this,” she rambled on.

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “Mom, I don’t-“

She cut you off before you could finish, “I gotta go, honey, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

And with that, she hung up.

You dropped the phone into your lap and banged your head against the window.

A look of panic spread across Shawn’s face.

“They don’t want me to come, do they? I should’ve known. It’s fine, really-“

You cut him off, “No, no, they’re really excited you’re coming,” you said with a little too much sarcasm, confusing Shawn further.

“That doesn’t sound like you’re serious,” he said slowly.

“They think we’re dating,” you said, not daring to look at him, as he whipped his head around to look at you.

“Why?” Shawn said with a laugh.

You groaned and rested your face in your hands, shaking your head as Shawn continued to laugh to himself.

“I told them I was seeing someone to get them off my back, and when I saw I was bringing you, she assumed,” you said. “And before I could correct her, she was hanging up on me.”

“If this were to happen to literally anyone, it’d be you,” Shawn said.

“I’ll call her back later and explain,” you mumbled, looking down at your phone.

“Don’t,” Shawn said quickly.

You looked over at him and raised your eyebrow as he kept his eyes on the road.

“I mean…you’re letting me spend Christmas with your family, the least I can do is pretend to be your boyfriend, so your family gets off your back,” he said.

You studied him as he stayed serious.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” You said with hesitation evident in your voice.

“[Y/N], it’ll be easy. It’s for three days. I’ve just gotta throw my arm around you occasionally and embellish our everyday stories a little bit. Trust me. No one will even know,” he said with maybe a little too much confidence.

“So, when did we start dating?” You asked him.

“Well, what did you tell your mom?” He turned the question back at you.

“I first said I was seeing someone…beginning of October? So we’ve been together since September,” you said.

“What day?” He said.

“Does it matter?”

“Well, yeah. What if someone asks each of us individually what day, and we say different days?” He said.

“Alright, then it was the twelfth,” you said, thinking of a random date.

“We were in New York that week. Perfect,” he said as he pulled into the parking lot of the mall. “How did we find out we had feelings for each other?”

“You wrote a song about me,” you said with admiration in your eyes and a hand to your heart.

He gave you a look, “Really?”

“Yes, really. Come on, it’s really not difficult to believe at all,” you said with a scoff.

“Is it?” He asked as he parked and got out of the car.

You followed suit and walked towards the entrance with him.

“You write songs about every girl that’s looked at you. Of course, you wrote one about me,” you said.

“Ouch,” he said under his breath.

“You’re only saying that because I’m right,” you taunted.

“Ok, fine. I wrote a song about you. How did you find out it was about you?” He diverted.

“You played it for me, and you referenced a specific memory that happened between the two of us. So I was able to put two and two together,” you said as the two of you walked in and started walking down the first row of stores.

“And what’s the memory?” He continued.

“I’m doing all the hard work. You pick the memory,” you said, turning into one of your sister’s favorite stores.

“Does it have to be a real memory, or can I make that up?” He said as you tried to find the sweater your sister wanted.

“It probably should be real, so we can stay as close to the truth as possible,” you said.

“Alright…” he trailed off, thinking about his time spent with you. “That time we went shopping at midnight, and then you got me in that car accident.”

“It was not my fault!” You defended as you threw the sweater at him. “She’s been looking at this for weeks, and my mom couldn’t find it anywhere. She’ll love you forever.”

Shawn held up the sweater and nodded his head, “Perfect. And it was totally your fault.”

You and Shawn wandered around the mall as you helped him pick out gifts for your family. Two hours later and you walked out with four gifts and the perfectly fabricated story.

It was late by the time you got back to your apartment, plopping down on the couch, wanting to go to bed, but knowing you had nothing packed yet.

Shawn was coming over at 8:00 the next morning to ensure you had all your lies in order, so the packing had to be done now.

You slowly got up and trudged to your bedroom. You grabbed the outfit you were wearing for Christmas Eve and hung it up on your door to put on the next morning. You threw your Christmas pajamas and your Christmas Day outfit along with some other clothes into a suitcase.

After packing everything up, you sat on the edge of your bed and stared at your dresser in front of you. On top of it sat a little black box. The gift you’d picked out for Shawn weeks ago.

You had contemplated whether or not you had wanted to give it to him since the moment you ordered it. You knew he’d like it. But you didn’t want him to think it was something someone who was “more than a friend and a coworker” would give him. Even though you definitely wanted that.

You stood up and grabbed the box, opening it up to run your finger across the cool metal of the bracelet, an almost exact replica of the one he had lost when you were in New York.

You closed it back up and put it in the bag of gifts for your family. It’d make this relationship more believable. You’d at least try to convince yourself of that.

You tossed and turned all night, and so did Shawn.

He couldn’t stop stressing over how he was going to ruin this. He ran every single possibility through his head, and he just knew he was destined to somehow mess up the story.

Of course, it was incredibly hard to mess it up since most of it was true. He had fallen for you in September. It was when you were in New York. He was writing songs about you.

The small box on his nightstand seemed to be screaming at him.

You’d been complaining for months about needing a ring that matched the bracelet you wore every day. Shawn found one. And it was perfect. The perfect gift a boyfriend would give to his girlfriend, but you were only pretending, and he didn’t want you to feel weird about it.

Without letting himself regret it, he stood up, grabbed the ring and put it in the top pocket of his duffle bag.

Both of you fell asleep only a few hours before Shawn had to be at your apartment, so he showed up with two very large coffees.

Once you opened the door for him, he carried in his duffle bag and his own bag of presents.

“Merry Christmas Eve!” He said as he set his things down. “Alright, babe, let’s practice,” he said with a wink as he handed you your coffee.

“Well, thank you…honey?” You said with hesitation.

He slightly shook his head at you, “You’ve gotta commit.”

“Thank you, honey,” you said with a small smile as you sat down on the couch.

“Incredibly believable. When did I ask you out officially?” He asked, sitting across from you.

“September 12. We were in New York, and I walked in on you practicing a song you were writing. I knew it was about me after I asked you to sing it for me,” you said. “How did you know you were falling for me?”

“Well, you were the only person who would call me out on my bullshit, and I wasn’t used to people doing that. So it just drew me to you. I slowly fell for every other aspect of you,” he said.

Your heart skipped a beat as you had to remind yourself this wasn’t real.

“What’s our favorite thing to do together?” He asked.

“Walks in the park with ice cream from that little shop down the street,” you said, taking a drink from your coffee. “What’s the song that’s about me?”

“Well, it hasn’t been released yet, and an artist never reveals the project before it’s done,” he said with the softest smile.

“I think we’re good,” you say with a shrug.

“I just gotta make sure I’m always near you with an arm around you or holding your hand,” he added.

“Exactly,” you said. You glanced down at the time. It was barely 9:00.

“We really didn’t have to meet this early,” you whispered.

“I know, but I was nervous,” he whispered back.

You spent the next few hours practicing random facts about each other and going over memories you had to make up while you both sprawled across the sofa.

“Do you think it’s going to look…unnatural?” Shawn asked as he sat up. “With my arm being around you. Do I look comfortable?”

He brought his arm around you, resting it on the top of the couch as you leaned slightly into his side.

“I feel like we look good,” you said, looking over at him. “Hold my hand.”

He slowly laced his fingers with yours as you both fell silent, staring down at your intertwined hands.

Shawn coughed after a moment, pulling his hand away.

“Yeah, looks good,” he said, not meeting your gaze.

You nervously tucked your hair behind your ear as you checked the time.

“If we leave now, we can get more coffee on the way there,” you said with a hopeful smile.

“Sounds fantastic to me,” he said as he stood up, turning around to help you up.

You grabbed your things and walked down to your car waiting in the parking lot. You threw your things in the back, quickly checking to make sure the box was still in the bag.

A little more than an hour and you were back home, pulling into your parents’ driveway. You parked your car and looked over at Shawn.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

You looked out your window to see your mom waiting at the door.

“Let’s do this,” you said as you got out of the car and waved to your mom. You went to grab your bags, but Shawn stopped you.

“I got it, babe,” he said, brushing you away.

You tried not to make it obvious at how shocked you were at how he was playing it up already. This might be easier than you thought.

I greeted your mom with a big smile and a hug as Shawn followed behind you with his arms filled with bags.

“Merry Christmas!” She said as she held you tight. She let you go after a moment and watched Shawn struggle.

She quickly took the two bags of gifts out of his hands, and you both had the same expression on your face.

“I can take that, Mom,” you quickly said as you grabbed your bag of gifts.

“And I can take that, no worries at all,” Shawn said with a smile.

Your mom patted him on the shoulder as you both walked into the house.

“Where is everyone?” You asked as you peaked into the living room.

“Your dad and Rachel ran to the grocery store, Aaron is meeting us at Grandma’s,” your mom explained as she shut the front door.

“Well, we’re going to go put our stuff upstairs,” you said as you gently nudged Shawn to move forward.

You slipped in front of him as you lead him to your old bedroom. You kicked the door open and set the bag down in the corner of the room.

You turned around to see Shawn beaming as he looked at the pictures that lined your walls. You slid the bags off his arms as he continued to look around your room.

“You were so cute,” he said softly as he pointed at a picture with you and your best friend in second grade.

After setting the rest of the bags down, you stood next to him, looking at the picture.

“Who’s that?” He asked as he pointed at a picture of you and your high school boyfriend.

You cringed as you reached up and tugged the picture down.

“That was supposed to be thrown away,” you said, tossing it in the trash.

“Ah, gotcha,” he said. “Now you have to fill the empty space.”

“Shawn, I don’t live here anymore,” you reminded him.

He shrugged, “Well, yeah, but still.”

For the first time, he turned around and looked at you, his eyes then drifting to your bed.

“We’re going to have to share that, aren’t we?” He said quietly.

You nodded your head, “Well, you are my boyfriend, so of course, we’d share a bed. And we don’t have a guest room.”

An awkward silence came between you two.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” you said with a pat on his shoulder as you tugged him out of your room, gently lacing your hands together as you pulled him down the stairs.

You were met with your mom baking in the kitchen, finishing up cookies to bring to your grandma’s house in a few hours. Shawn leaned against the counter, and you leaned gently against his side.

“Need any help?” You asked.

Your mom simply shook her head, “Nope, I’m in the zone. Rather you did not interrupt me, dear.”

Your jaw dropped as Shawn laughed at your mom.

“We’ll just get out of your hair then,” you said a little too dramatically as you tugged Shawn into the sunroom at the back of your house.

You settled into the couch in the corner, crossing your legs and facing him as he did the same.

“How are you doing?” He whispered.

You nodded your head, “good,” you whispered back. “This isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“It’s because I’m a really great boyfriend,” he said with a confident smile.

Before you could respond, the back door opened, and your dad and sister walked in with a few bags.

“Hey!” Your dad said cheerfully. You stood up and gave him a quick hug, and Shawn followed, shaking his hand.

“Nice to see you, Shawn,” he said with a small smile.

“You too, sir,” he said back.

“Well, we’ll leave you two,” Rachel said as she motioned for your dad to follow her into the kitchen.

You sat back down on the couch in your original spot, this time turning to rest your head on Shawn’s shoulder.

“Tired?” He whispered.

You nodded your head gently, “Didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Me too,” he said, settling back into the couch and pulling you with him so your head lay on his chest.

“We still have two hours,” you mumbled.

“Then nap,” Shawn whispered.

He didn’t have to tell you twice as you relaxed into him and fell asleep. It felt too real. That this was your actual boyfriend, and it was his first holiday with your family. You had to beg yourself to not believe that.

You felt someone tug on your foot, and you jolted awake, smacking your head on Shawn’s jaw as you both groaned.

You shifted up to your knees, rubbing the top of your head as you brought your hand to Shawn’s jaw.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry, honey,” you said through a laugh as you traced your thumb across his jaw gently.

“Not the first time, won’t be the last,” he said as he smiled sleepily up at you.

Your heart skipped a beat. You didn’t even realize what you were doing before you leaned in and kissed the side of his jaw where your head hit. You could feel his breath hitch.

“All better,” you whispered, as you pulled away, his eyes not leaving yours.

“Alright, love birds. We’re leaving for Grandma’s,” Rachel said, being the one who tugged on your foot.

You both nodded and stood up, finding your shoes and hopping into your car. You drove the short distance to your Grandma’s house as the car was silent.

“That was good,” Shawn said as he broke the silence.

“What?”

“When you kissed my jaw, that was good. As in, like. Very believable,” he stumbled over his words.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said. “Rachel’s a sucker for shit like that.”

The silence fell again as you pulled up and parked before making your way into your grandma’s house.

The night went exactly as it was supposed to. Shawn met all your aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents, while also being introduced to other people who showed up. You spent your night in the back corner of the couch with Shawn’s arm draped around you. You barely stood up all night, as any time you needed something, Shawn said he’d get it and would leave with a gentle pat on your knee.

Your aunt slid into his spot one of those times, giving you a look.

“Quite the gentleman, huh?” She said.

You smiled and nodded, “Yeah, he’s pretty perfect.”

“How long has it been? And how come I just found out yesterday when your mom called me?” your aunt asked.

“Since September, and you know how it is. His private life has to be incredibly quiet for it to stay private,” you said.

“Are you ok with that?”

Out of all the questions you were prepared for, this wasn’t one you practiced.

“Um,” you paused. “Yeah, I am. I mean, I work for him,” you said with a chuckle. “Some people wouldn’t take that too well.”

Your aunt nodded her head, “Well, when it’s real as it is between you two, people shouldn’t even think that but that’s just how it is sometimes,” she said with a sigh. “One day.”

“One day,” you repeated, your heart beating out of your chest at how she said this was so real. You wanted to shake her and tell her it wasn’t but you wanted it to be so bad.

She stood up and went back to her spot as Shawn came back and handed you your glass of wine.

“Am I going to have to drive?” He asked with a smirk as you took another drink.

“Yep,” you said, curling into his side again.

The night flew by after everyone ate dinner and opened gifts. Everyone was eager to talk to Shawn and you about your relationship. The two of you answered every question perfectly. No one suspected a thing.

Before you knew it, Shawn was driving you home as you dozed off in the front seat. He pulled into the driveway behind your parents. He rounded the car and opened your door.

“Come on, love,” he whispered, kneeling down by your door as you looked at him.

“Do I have to?” You mumbled.

“Want me to carry you?” He said with a small smile.

You nodded your head as he turned around, and you slid onto his back. He shut the door and walked toward the back door with the rest of your family as you rested your head on his shoulder.

You heard a chorus of goodnights before you felt Shawn shut your bedroom door and set you on your bed. You laid back and shut your eyes, as you heard Shawn rustling around, presumably changing.

“Come on, [Y/N],” he said with a quiet chuckle, poking your side as he said it.

You groaned as you opened your eyes and met his gaze just inches away from you.

“You’re going to regret falling asleep in jeans,” he whispered.

You sighed as you finally got up and trudged to your bathroom. You glanced down at the bag of gifts before quickly changing and going back into your room.

“I’m going to run these downstairs real quick,” you said as you saw Shawn laying in the bed, scrolling through his phone. “Want me to grab yours?”

“No,” he said a little too quickly. “No, I can do it tomorrow morning.”

You walked downstairs quietly and rounded the living room towards the Christmas tree. You took a deep breath as you put the gifts under the tree among the rest. The box holding Shawn’s gift stayed in your hands a little too long. You hesitated before standing up and bringing the gift with you into the sunroom, setting it on the tv stand.

You went back upstairs to your room, seeing Shawn curled up in the covers with his eyes closed.

You crawled in on the opposite side, pulling the covers up and facing him.

“I didn’t get to ask you what side you usually sleep on,” he mumbled, his eyes still closed.

“You guessed right,” you said.

His eyes flickered open, and he smiled at you as you returned it.

With that, you closed your eyes and fell asleep to the sound of Shawn’s deep breaths.

Shawn woke up first. In fact, Shawn woke up with your head on his chest and his arm around your waist as your arm gripped his middle. He looked down at you peacefully sleeping and again reminded himself that this could never happen. You would never feel that way about him.

He gently removed your arm from him. You shuffled away, turning the opposite direction and burying your head in the pillow, not waking up.

Shawn breathed a sigh of relief as he stood up and grabbed his gifts, tiptoeing downstairs.

He set your family’s gifts among the rest and held the small box that held yours in his hands. Without letting himself think too much, he set it at the very back of the tree.

He stood up to see your brother leaning against the doorway.

“Merry Christmas,” Aaron said as he moved to sit on the couch.

“Yeah, Merry Christmas,” Shawn said back, sitting across from him.

Aaron motioned to the tree with his head, “What did you get her?”

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see,” Shawn said.

Before Aaron could pry further, you walked into the room and sat down next to Shawn as he moved his arm to wrap around you and kissed the side of your head.

“Morning,” you mumbled.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered.

You smiled up at him, “Merry Christmas.”

“Coffee, anyone?” Your dad asked as he peaked into the living room. Everyone said yes as he started brewing a pot as Rachel and your mom made their way into the living room.

Your dad brought everyone a mug as presents were started.

Your family all loved their gifts from Shawn, commending him on how well he did, and continuously saying he didn’t have to bring anything.

The gifts dwindled down as Shawn watched the box get closer and closer. Finally, it was the only present left.

“Who’s that for?” Rachel asked as your mom grabbed it.

“[Y/N],” she said as she handed it to you.

You turned to look at Shawn, “You got me something?” You said quietly.

Shawn nodded his head as he grabbed the box from your mom.

“Yours is in the other room,” you whispered.

“Want to go over there?” He asked.

“We’re going to go, uh-“ you stuttered.

“Just in the other room,” Shawn finished.

“Yeah, to open ours,” you said with a nod.

Everyone shrugged their shoulders and nodded as you stood up and tugged Shawn to the sunroom, grabbing the box off the stand and settling into the couch.

“Who’s going first?” He asked.

“You can,” you said, the nerves setting in.

Shawn carefully unwrapped the box and pulled off the top.

“Oh my God,” he said under his breath. “How did you...I can’t believe-“ he was speechless as he traced his finger across the cool metal of the bracelet.

“It’s the same one, well almost,” you told him. “I somehow found that place in Thailand and had them send me one.”

“[Y/N], I don’t know what to say,” he said as he looked at you.

You shrugged your shoulders, trying to control the heat rising to your cheeks.

Without another word, Shawn handed you your gift.

You hesitated before unwrapping it and then opening the top.

You gasped as you looked at the ring staring back at you.

“Shawn,” you said slowly as you took the ring out. You slid it on your finger carefully. “It matches,” you said with a small smile as you looked down at it.

“I know you’ve been wanting one that matches your mom’s bracelet, and then I found that one,” he said.

Silence fell between you two as the realization hit both of you.

“Shawn,” you said slowly, looking up at him. “This isn’t a gift you give your coworker.”

“Neither is this,” he whispered back.

You went quiet again, not being able to look at him again.

“What if I don’t want you to just be my coworker?” He whispered as his voice shook.

You looked up at him, finally. He looked nervous.

“What if I want the same thing?” you whispered back.

“Then Andrew isn’t going to be too happy,” Shawn responded.

You both smiled, leaning in closer and closer.

“But who cares what he thinks,” he whispered before finally pressing his lips against yours.

Sparks flew as Shawn leaned back and you followed, resting your hand on his cheek as he deepened the kiss. After a few moments, Shawn carefully pulled away.

“I could kiss you all day and more, but I don’t think your parents want to see that,” he said with a smile before you pressed another quick kiss to his lips.

“I know it sucks, but I’m glad your flight was canceled,” you said as you curled back into his side, this time it was real.

Shawn rested his head against yours after pressing a kiss to your head.

“Me too.”

Hey guys I love receiving love (support your local fic writers kids) so PLEASE reply, reblog, send me an ask, a message THE WORKS

tag list: (message/send me an ask to be added for ficmas!)

@fallinallincurls @sunrise-shawn @shawnblrficawards @itrocksmysocks @mendesficsxbombay @particularnervous @adelaidestreets @rosebudmendes @shawnwyr @dancing-oceans @illuminatepotter

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dawniebb · 4 years

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Thoughts about Renegades

ALRIGHT FOLKS, TAKE A SEAT BC I’M ABOUT TO KICK MYSELF OUT OF THIS FANDOM :’)

Not really

But I’m going to rant for a while so perhaps you can go grab a snack or something :’)

So…I LOVE Renegades and I always will but I’ve been thinking about some of the things that seem…off to me. Not that they’re a big deal ofc (because I love Renegades in a really dumb and blind way) but some of them are quite unpopular opinions among the fandom, so I’m finally going to share them in case someone out there feels the same way X’DDDDD

They’re not in any particular order. Here we go:

- I completely stan the idea of Nova and Oscar and Nova and Callum being brotp material, but I stan Nova and Callum way more, not because I don’t like Nova and Oscar, but because I think it was genuinely good (and healthy) for Nova to have a friend out of Adrian’s circle. I mean, she’s been isolated most of her life now, and when I realized she finally had someone of her own… like, a person she met with whom she connected without Adrian introducing them to her, was a HUGE step. Callum is one of my favorite characters in the whole series, and when the t h i n g happened I was devastated for MYSELF *sobs* but also because MM took him away from Nova. She opened to him more than she ever opened to Oscar throughout the three books. Sorry not sorry :’).

- AS A YOUNG ADULT (I’LL BE 20 IN MAY, YOU GUYS) let me tell you that all these dumbasses act like completely normal teenagers and all their shitty decisions sound like something I would’ve done when I was their age. Actually, the Team Sketch really reminds me of my own circle of friends. I’ve seen you guys complain about Adrian acting extremely dumb for his age but GUYS HE’S FUCKING 17. WHEN I WAS 17 I WAS AS CLUELESS AS HIM. ALL MY FRIENDS WERE. AND IT WAS SO STUPID IT HURT BUT SHIT BE LIKE THAT SOMETIMES. I was the Nova among them. That is: I joined their group hella late and one of the guys became my crush. I was so dumb I told him he was my crush when I was defeated on the floor with a dislocated knee because I was having a breakdown and I legit thought I was D Y I N G. Teenagers.Are.Like.That.

- HOWEVER, EVEN IF I JUST SAID ALL OF THAT….And I want to believe all of you agree with me: I don’t justify Oscar. It’s okay being a dumb teenager, but you can’t just ask your crush to be your girlfriend during a PUBLIC EXECUTION. That wasn’t romantic. At all. If I were Ruby I would’ve been really offended, no joke. (AT LEAST WHEN I TOLD *MY* CRUSH WHILE I THOUGHT MY LEG WAS GOING TO BE AMPUTATED, WE WERE IN CHORUS CLASS. ALL THE GUYS WERE SINGING TO ME BC THEY THOUGHT THAT WOULD CALM ME DOWN. IT WAS A GROSS AND ODDLY SWEET MOMENT, YOU KNOW?).

- I feel like Ruby is…I’m not going to say mistreated, but…Idk. I feel like she’s trying her best and she’s kind to everyone in the group and in some parts of the books they just…forget about her :’). (This may be Marissa’s fault, though). Which makes me really sad, because she’s genuinely sweet and I felt like she was the most welcoming to Nova since the very beginning (Apart from Adrian, of course).

- I’m part of the “Leroy switched sides at some point” squad, but at the same time I believe he’s just very, VERY chaotic neutral and (I’m never giving up on this) since he loved Nova, he would just stick to the side where they promised to keep her safe, even if that meant being jumping back and forth between the Renegades and the Anarchists.

- I ALSO BELIEVE WINSTON MAH BOI SAW A LOT OF HIMSELF IN NOVA. To my particular point of view, his mental state was the most stable when she moved with them. He unconsciously tried to stop her from becoming what he’d become and the Anarchists realized that, so when they found Ace’s little human weapon being threatened, they just teared her away from Winston, which caused his mental health to go downhill again until he ended up all psychotic (which is how we got to meet him during Renegades).

- Honey had way more complicated issues than just being “evil”. Yes. She’s dead. And me defending her won’t make her less dead. And I know she got what she deserved because she was…completely out of control and Marissa tends to kill those who are too far gone (take Levana as an example). But I think that if she hadn’t neglected her own mental health so much she would’ve had a chance; Honey had good in her :’) maybe, before meeting Ace, she was a different person. Like, it’s mentioned she grew up in a small farm. I think she fell in love with him at some point and, by the way he talks to her sometimes, I’m *almost* sure he knew that, so he tried to take advantage of the situation to keep her in line, even though he had no intention to reciprocate her feelings. Sure, Honey is a manipulative brat, but she’s a hundred times worse when she knows Ace is around or when she knows she has a chance to get him back (she goes batshit crazy in the cathedral, you know?). Ace was a power-hungry sociopath/psychopath and she was a depressed, also power-hungry woman who was in love with him. And that’s a BAD combination. Honey Harper was hopeless… and I think she even showed some signs of Stockholm Syndrome.

- Still, Honey and Nova’s relationship reminds me a lot of my relationship with my dad. Theirs was a toxic relationship, but since I’ve been through that (still going through that), I refuse to believe it will be easy for Nova to overcome her death *that* easily. They loved each other in a…violent, weird way, but Honey was Nova’s mother more than Tala ever got the chance to be (because Ace took that opportunity away from her) and if Honey hadn’t been so –like I mentioned before- hopeless, they could’ve fixed their relationship until it was normal and healthy, because Honey showed signs of loving Nova, and Nova showed signs of loving her.

- Every death in Supernova had a very specific narrative purpose but, even if I hate Evander as much as y’all do, I think his death was done for the sake of the shock factor afgshja like, he died in such a sudden, meaningless way :’).

- Tamaya is nothing but wasted potential. You have a savage, feral, badass woman with w i n g s and the only thing she does is getting her fucking face burned and throwing fists with entitled teenagers.

- I LIVE for Simon and Hugh as couple, but (gosh, saying this makes me feel really guilty) the fact that they didn’t share not even ONE kiss throughout the trilogy made me feel really queerbaited :’). Same thing happened with Danna and Narcissa, but I think that was PLAIN half-assed.

-Why doesn’t Adrian has Simon’s last name as well? :’)

- ADRIAN NEEDS THERAPY AS MUCH AS NOVA DOES. LET’S BREAK THIS DOWN, HERE WE GO:

*So, we know that Marissa Meyer’s male characters are always really sweet and kind and wholesome and omg :’)…and then there’s fucking Jacin (whom I love, but that doesn’t minimize the fact he shall burn in hell X’DDDD) . I mean, he’s kind…to Winter and Winter only…and Cress…sometimes. When it comes to Winter, he’s capable of a lot, A LOT of things. He comes off as rude many times (especially to Cinder, during Cress) and…yeah. He looks like he could kill you and he could ACTUALLY kill you; I feel like the fandom moves Adrian to …whatever category Kai’s in….but I’m not sure that’s the case. Let’s analyze Cinder’s equivalent to Nova’s bracelet: Peony’s chip; Kai was mad at Cinder, FUCKING mad. But once he kinda figured out Cinder was grieving his sister and keeping the only thing she had left from her for emotional reasons, he didn’t, under any circumstance, no matter how much he hated Cinder at the moment, want that chip to be taken away from her. Kai had lost his father. He KNEW what it felt like and he didn’t want anyone to feel the same way, because he SAW Cinder suffer her little sister’s death. Adrian had lost his mother and he knew Nova had lost both her mother and her father AND her little sister; she had opened up enough to tell him that bracelet was the only thing she had left from her father…and when he learned Nova was Nightmare, instead of interrogating her, taking a sample of her blood or things like that, he straight took her bracelet. Because Adrian was hurt and he wanted her to be hurt too, so he took away the one thing that mattered the most to her and THAT WASN’T VERY KAI OF HIM IF YOU ASK ME. My point is, sadly: Adrian is ABSOLUTELY traumatized due to his mother’s death (who wouldn’t?) and now that he knows he indirectly killed her he will only get WORSE. He hated Nova for being Nightmare just because he thought she had something to do with Georgia’s death, so when things went to shit, he did her in the dirtiest way he could, making her feel hated and unwanted, which were Nova’s delicate spots afgshja…like, Adrian’s capable of a lot of things(just like Jacin). He NEEDS therapy. Now.

- The heated kiss scene during Archenemies is both heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time (besides…you know, heated). Nova’s so touch-starved she gets overwhelmed when Adrian suddenly gives her all the physical affection she didn’t have during her childhood. And…I feel it was a very intimate moment between both of them, because they were physically and emotionally invested and omg. This only makes my previous point (about the bracelet) more horrible, because I can’t imagine how she must’ve felt when he took away her bracelet with so.much.hatred.

-WE DESERVED TO KNOW THE CHANGES THAT WERE MADE TO THE SYSTEM BC TBH THE RENEGADES SYSTEM WAS SHITTY AF… It’s like…they claimed to be against what the Anarchists did but then suddenly they were doing the same things themselves. And I don’t think that’s fair. The Renegades acted as messed up as the Anarchists during Supernova. They wanted to EXECUTE a MINOR who committed MINOR CRIMES. I mean, what did Nightmare even do? Right, she tried to assassinate Hugh but she FAILED, and she neutralized Team Frostbite in SELF-DEFENSE and in Max’s defense.

- Besides, the way Anarchists were treated was...really inhuman. As far as I understand, they didn’t have access to public services or anything like that. What if they needed meds? Where did they get their food from? Did they have, like, fucking running water? Electricity? There are also three women among them and they get *periods*, people, and *period stuff* is expensive as fuck. Like, did they have to steal tampons? And if they did…were they chased because of it? Even though they had no way to get income in a legal way because they were Anarchists and being out there like normal people was against the rules for them? Lol?

- JESUS THAT SYSTEM REALLY NEEDED TO BE CHANGED LMAO AFGSHJA

-Also, Cragmoor? Wtf.

- AND, LAST BUT NOT LEAST, NOT BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE ANYTHING ELSE TO SAY BUT BECAUSE THIS IS TOO LONG ALREADY: It think Nova and Evie have been apart for too long and it’s going to be hard for them to create a bond. They’ll have to get used to it, because it’s going to be confusing for Nova and, given the fact Evie’s personality is…like that, I think she’ll go as far to blame Nova like “But you were SUPPOSED to look for me.”

I rest my case.

#salty lmao #renegades trilogy #marissa meyer #nova artino #nightmare #adrian everhart #the sentinel #sketch #honey harper #leroy flinn #winston pratt #alec artino #hugh everhart #simon westwood #mostly unpopular opinions

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brydeswhale · 4 years

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Fic Preview Time!

Bc I might as well tease you guys since I actually haven’t been writing that much lately.

1. Untamed death row exoneration fic

So, I was writing this one before the US government went on it’s little killing spree, but it started to be topical and real, so I put it on a backburner, but I'm getting back to it.

The house wasn’t huge. Wei Ying knew that, intellectually. Compared to the house he’d grown up in, it was modest. Compared to the entire lake that had been in his backyard as a kid, the small pond and five trees in the backyard were cute.

But he couldn’t help it, as soon as A-Yuan left the house, just walking from room to room to room, in and out. He tried to be careful and close the screen door, but sometimes he’d forget and one or two rabbits would hop in and surprise Lan Zhan in his office.

Lan Zhan never scolded him for it. He’d just pick the rabbit up and put it in his lap.

“You’ve got to go to therapy,” Jack came by with a bottle of wine the first day, patted A-Yuan on the head, and let his wife give Lan Zhan a salad with nuts and artichoke hearts. “I’m going to give you this right now, and that’s all the booze you get until you send me a picture of the appointment.”

“I can buy my own alcohol,” Wei Ying laughed at him.

Jack just smiled indulgently at him.

“Trust me,” he said, gently. “You want to do this. For your kid.”

So he had an appointment on Friday, and until then he was walking the house the same way he’d paced his cell.

Wen Ning was in his room, working on something A-Yuan had asked him to do. Qing-jie was working on finding whatever job a woman who was snatched from the gentle grip of a first year med school could get.

Wei Ying tried to lie down at the edge of the pond. Several goldfish swirled around, looking at him expectantly, and he waved apologetically.

“Lan Zhan told me you guys are on a diet,” he pointed out. The fish, disgruntled, fluttered their fins, and drifted away.

The sun went behind a cloud. The lilies floated in the wind.

He slept.

The sun shone off the wine bottle, still unopened, on the kitchen windowsill.

So it’s not really about the death penalty, per se, it’s more about exoneration and also humans and trauma and stuff. Really heavy and it makes me sad.

2. Unnamed Teen Wolf vampire fic

So this isn’t REALLY a Vampire The Masquerade crossover, but it kind of IS, because I played that LARP for ten years and I still don’t understand(because I’m stupid) so it incorporated a lot of their brokenness, lol. Basically, it’s Scott getting kidnapped by vampires, who then decide to keep him and won’t give him back based on him being their precious darling.

A hunter came up behind him, but Scott felt, smelled, heard him, and, with a twist, threw him into the lights. They smashed, and several of them died, much to the delight of the captive. Her grin, briefly delightful, suddenly terrifying as two delicate fangs appeared, brought a cry of terror from the hunter as she dragged him up, and Scott found himself stepping forward, hands outstretched helplessly.

“Don’t kill him!”

She paused, and her pout returned.

“But I’m hungry,” she complained. “And he’s not exactly a good guy, wolf, he steals kids.”

“Just,” Scott wanted to agree with her, wanted, suddenly, to just leave the bastard there. She was right. He was a kidnapper and probably a murderer.

(“Some of us are human!”)

“Just, please,” he begged. “Just leave him. Help me save Siobhan.”

She looked him in the eyes, hesitating, then bent her head and sank her teeth into the hunter’s neck.

Scott felt himself drop a little. That was that. He didn’t know why he’d expected to persuade her otherwise.

“Fine,” she stood up, letting the hunter fall into the broken glass of the lights, blood dripping down her face. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. You could turn a cat from a mouse with those eyes. He’ll live, he just needs some juice.”

...

Maybe it wasn’t the shadows that had taken his breath from him. She’d thought the blood was someone else’s, but she could see it seeping out from under his fingers.

“Are you okay, wolf?”

“Scott,” he reached for a shirt, and pulled it on with jerking, shaking fingers.

“My name’s Scott McCall,” he clarified for her raised eyebrows, then collapsed in a heap beside a pile of laundry.

She let a note behind. It was what you did, right?

She wrote it out on thin, lined paper, and pinned it to the fridge under a cute, pig shaped magnet. Then she picked him up, and stepped into the darkness.

...

“You’re awake!” The girl walked in carelessly. She wore draping scarves over a loose, not very long dress, and long, flashy necklaces. Her curls didn’t quite seem to match. “Took you long enough.”

“I can’t- I can’t stay here,” he was trying to get up, and he realized that someone had taken off his jeans and replaced them with loose, soft pyjamas. He was wearing a matching shirt.

“You took my pants?” He held himself up with one hand, and noted, as if from far away, that it was shaking.

“Don’t worry about your maidenly modesty,” she pulled out her phone and used the camera to reapply lipstick in a bruised purple. “Seamus wanted you to be more comfortable. That’s all.”

“I have to go,” he shook his head. “I have to- How long have I been here?”

“Almost four days now,” she said, pushing him back into bed. “Stop that. You nearly died about five times.”

“My friends,” he tried to move, but she was stronger than she looked. Her hands were cold, and she smelled strange. Dull, and still.

“I left a note,” she seemed utterly unconcerned. “I put it on your fridge. Cute magnets, by the way.”

“I’m Jewel,” she told him, clambering up to sit cross legged on the bed beside him. “Jewel Cleary.”

“Scott-“ she interrupted him carelessly.

“I know, Scott McCall, you told it to me while you were dying.”

That explained it. They didn’t know he was an alpha.

“I wasn’t dying,” he tried to explain. “I’m an alpha. I would have been fine, you didn’t have to bring me here.”

“You nearly died three times in this very bed, boyo,” a huge, decaying mountain of a man, whose bulk spoke of power beginning to fade, and who had laugh lines at every corner of his face, came in with a steaming tray. “And now you’ll stay in it and eat your dinner and rest until you look a bit less of a corpse.”

“I’m Seamus,” the man handed the food to Jewel, then helped him sit up. “Tho most call me Shea, on the belief that my true name will call all manner of calamities down upon us. You’re Scott McCall, who saved our Jewel, and it’s a pleasure, indeed it is, Mr. McCall.”

He was saved from replying by Jewel putting the tray under his nose and both of them beaming expectantly over a bowl of stew and a cup of something dark and hot.

It was… very good. And he fell asleep again as soon as he finished.

3. Another Chapter In Mysterious Fathoms Below

So this fic is actually stalled because I’m writing Uma giving a Ted Talk style speech on what it was actually like growing up in a concentration camp run by a totalitarian dictatorship and I’m stumped on it, also the mystical stuff that's coming in. But I'm back on track soon, so hopefully this will come out soon.

“Davy Jones’ Locker!”

“Don’t curse, dear,” Merryweather had scolded absently, trying to clear up supper dishes.

“Don’t-What? Merryweather, look at the bloody stars!”

Harry grabbed her arm, pushing her to look up at the sky. It was just past dusk, soft and velvety blue, with early stars cheerfully popping into place. She followed Harry’s finger.

There should have been two stars there. One was newer, and that one had taken its place, although it’s bright shimmer was somewhat reduced.

Where the other should have been, there was black emptiness. Somehow, the sky looked cold and empty without it, and its mate seemed to shiver in the blackness.

“The second star,” she whispered. “Oh, Harry, what’s going on?”

…

“I was born in a prison, and on that day, from the moment I came screaming and bloody into this world, I was sentenced to life without parole. Like everyone born on the Isle Of The Lost, all my friends and my enemies, I was born to starve, suffer, and die, for the crime of being born to the losing side.”

“My first memory is of vomit. I was sick, because the food that came to the Isle came off garbage skows. Now, I don’t mean that the ships that transported the food were garbage skows, repurposed for bringing food to our prison, I mean it was garbage. The leftovers, the trash, rags and rot. Every bite we took was Russian roulette, and that day, I guess I lost.”

She smiled, and turned slightly again. She had never managed to stay still, even when she slept, she kicked and pushed out against the world. She had crawled early and walked early, she had swum from the moment of her birth.

“I don’t mean for you to think this was some kind of unusual event. I had food poisoning several times a year. The alternative was to not eat. There were no gardens, no farms. The ground was rocky and hard, and even if we’d managed to till it, the earth was leeched of life, to keep the barrier going. It was fed from the very island.”

From something more than the island. From something that had been since long before the Beast and his doll had been even thought of, something that had reigned before princes and queens.

Ursula drank her daughter’s face in. Sweet and pretty, crowned and gowned, just as she should have been. She traced the curve of her cheek, and pretended that this was something else, something from another world, where Uma was all that she appeared, and pure, and soft.

…

They were making their way through grey fog, as fast as pixy dust could swing them. The Pan stood at the bow, staring into the mist. When Harry approached, he turned, eyes glowing with a terrible fire.

“It’s begun, impossible child,” he said, cheerfully.

Harry swore at him, savagely, and sat on the rail, listening for the sounds of planes and guns.

…

“Look how she lights up the sky,” she could hear Naveen singing, singing somewhere far away.

She stumbled out of bed. He must have been singing to Jimmy, and Jimmy was probably missing her.

But when she got to the nursery doorway, it was gone.

The air was rich and humid, sweet with flower and sour with decay. Dragonflies hummed, their jewel-like bodies gleaming in the last of the sunlight as they danced over the glimmering water. She took one step, and another, the ground not giving way, but welcoming her in, wrapping water and earth around each foot. The trees swayed overhead, moss waving in the wind.

A place of death. A place of life.

3. The next chapter in Five Wolves Sansa Never Had

So this was a fic that stemmed from my irritation that Sansa lost her puppy. This chapter is called “Ned, you fucked up big time” and its about Ned trying to replace Lady with a sickly puppy who actually IS a dire wolf. Knowing what I know about dire wolves now, this is HILARIOUS.

He almost bought a doll, but Jory had shaken his head furiously, and he’d stepped past the toy shop, to a man selling what he called “exotic beasts, fit for the King’s own menagerie”.

Of course, the quiet little pup certainly wasn’t the dire wolf the man advertised him to be, but something in his golden eyes and quiet nature had reminded him of Lady, and he’d paid far too much for the little creature.

Far, far too much, it seemed now.

Sansa hadn’t been grateful. She’d sullenly put it in her lap, and told him he couldn’t replace Lady, and needn’t have tried. Then she’d gone to her chambers, ignoring Arya, who wanted to play with the little creature.

At first he’d thought it was simply a quiet pup, like Lady had been. It had had little appetite, and messed in Sansa’s chambers, but she had been used to that from Lady’s infancy and hadn’t complained. He’d heard it when he accidentally eavesdropped on Jeyne’s complaints to another maid.

But after some days it had become clear that the little beast was dying. Food and water ran through it, ending in messes on the floor, it slept for hours, and when it woke, it cried weakly. It couldn’t walk, and Sansa would carry it out to the gardens, lay it on a blanket, and sit and embroider, only getting up to change the linens under the poor thing, or to persuade it to take a sip of water or a bite of food.

Ned tried to broach the facts of the matter with Sansa, but she had only glared stoney-faced at him, until he found himself faltering and retreating. He’d thought of sneaking in at night and smothering the creature, but it felt too much like murder, and he finally gave up, leaving the little creature alone to die in peace.

The one good thing about the matter, which was the rift between Sansa and Joffrey. The Prince found the puppy disgusting and wasn’t quiet about it, and Sansa found his rudeness distasteful, and tactfully avoided the boy. By the time he was able to put them on a ship, sickly pup and all, she was distant enough from Joffrey that her protests were only quiet, pointed remarks about how he had made her fit to be a princess, and now didn’t find the price she brought him high enough.

It reminded him, chillingly, of how Lyanna had argued with his father, and he found himself unable to embrace her when she left.

…

Stark had sent one of his daughters with a Braavosi swords master and the other with a sickly puppy, as if he thought that Stannis hadn’t enough to do, and would appreciate some further inconveniences.

The younger daughter had no idea how to behave, and put the entire castle into uproar after uproar. But if he had hoped that the eldest daughter, who had lived up to her reputation as far as being a pretty child, who curtsied precisely the right depth, would balance the little urchin by behaving and staying in her place, he was, well, mildly disappointed.

“The dog will be placed in the kennels,” he told them on the arrival.

The girl shook her head.

“No, my lord.”

He had paused, and the entire parade of noblewomen, septas and servants had stumbled in its tracks.

“No, Lady Sansa?”

She met his eyes, and he was reminded, uncomfortably, of her father.

“No, my lord,” she reiterated. “He shall not go to the kennels. He is the symbol of my house and he will remain with me.”

“It’ll probably die soon, anyhow,” the younger girl told him. “It’s been dying since father bought it, it’s an ugly little thing.”

For a moment, Lady Sansa was unable to school her expression to proper demureness, and a cold rage turned her eyes from sky on sea blue to springtime ice as she glanced at her sister. It only lasted for a heartbeat, then she was back to cold courtesy.

Stannis ignored their silent squabble, and looked more closely at the creature. It lay limply in her arms, eyes unfocused, and breaths shallow.

“At the very least,” he allowed. “We ought not to bring whatever sickness that is amongst the dogs.”

Later, he found the girl seated by her hearth, trying to feed the little creature a soup of broth and bones, while her ancient septa slept in the window seat. The pup ate but little, and the girl rubbed a hand over her eyes before she saw him and stood to curtsey again.

“Forgive me, my lord, I did not see you.”

“I brought this,” he held up a small pot. “I purchased it for a sick hound, once, and it brought the creature strength enough to heal.”

She thanked him very prettily, and he mixed a spoonful with the broth she was trying to feed the pup, showing her the portions carefully and appreciating her careful attention. Between them, they got the poor thing to finish the broth and eat a little meat, before it fell asleep in a rabbit fur lined basket.

“Thank you, my lord.”

He took a closer look at the child. He’d never thought much about the girl who would marry his goodsister’s bastard, but he could see now that she had bright, intelligent eyes, despite her clear exhaustion, and that she carried herself very well.

“It must have been a shock,” he said, abrupt in his discomfort. “When your father told you why he had to break your betrothal.”

She hesitated.

“My father,” her voice was very soft, and uncertain. “My father has not-“

He stared at her, irritable and disbelieving.

“Did your father not tell you why you were being sent here?”

He knew he sounded skeptical, but the idea that Eddard Stark would not have told his eldest child why her very excellent marriage pact was being broken seemed truly ludicrous. Stark wasn’t stupid, and he was a man of honour. It would only serve him well to keep his eldest daughter in his confidence.

The girl blushed in embarrassment.

“He-He told Arya,” she said, slowly. “That is, I believe he told her. She hasn’t said anything. To me. But he speaks to her. He likes her.”

Stannis frowned.

There had been another father, once upon a time, that father had made sure there was a space in his mews for a crippled bird, and as much fresh and good food for her as any flighted creature, all because his son had hoped she might fly again. Even if that son was not as handsome, or charming, or bright as his brother.

“Your father has been foolish,” he told her, coldly. He had not the talent to speak to children, but she seemed to understand that he meant no harm to her. “He may as well have sent you riding an aurochs blindfolded.”

“No matter,” he continued, and sat down in a chair by the hearth, motioning her to the opposite seat. “Listen to me. It’s a very long story.”

…

“…His Grace, the King, has explained all to me, my Lord Father.

I am very glad to hear that you have escaped your confinement. Perhaps we shall see each other again soon.

Your Obedient Daughter,

Sansa Stark, lately of Dragonstone”

There was something cold about the letter, Ned thought, running a hand through his hair, for all that it was prettily written, with no ink blotches or crossed words, but he couldn’t quite tell what made him think so. He set it aside, with a group of others he planned to answer later, including word from White Harbour and the Wall.

Stannis had overstepped, he thought. Sansa was too young to know the truth of her betrothal, that her former betrothed was a bastard born of incest, that Jon Arryn had been murdered. But Stannis had never been known for tact.

His son had become a king. The Riverlands and the North called him so. So did some among the Vale. Word had come to the Stormlands, just as he managed to convince Renly to wait for the proper order of succession.

He put it aside for now. Robb was a boy, he could be persuaded to see sense.

“Sansa has chainjed her hair again. She just brayds it and pins it back under a hood like the new Queen does except she hardly spends any time with the queen. She and Stannis are always together with the Prinsess. All they do is play kivuss, and talk over maps and books.

“I found a secret passij in the cellar of the kassle. It goes to the dungeon.

“Are you alright, Father? I herd one of the men say you lost your leg. I miss you very much.”

He smiled fondly over the mis-spelled words, imagining Arya roaming a new castle, learning all the new haunts and secrets.

“My Dearest Arya,

“I have not lost my leg, but it was very badly infected. I hope you are well, and you are behaving for your hosts…”

…

The black wolf didn’t die, to everyone’s surprise. To their further astonishment, he thrived, with an ever-growing appetite and a newfound strength to match. He began to grow, and developed a certain cool dignity, to match his mistress’ adolescent gentility. She named him “Prince” and embroidered a collar in silver-grey thread and white shell beads.

Stannis wasn’t, precisely, surprised to find that the elder of his new wards was quick and clever, or that she knew already the names and banners of nearly every house in the Seven Kingdoms, and the relevant histories of said houses. His wife was pleased with her sewing and manners, and engaged a musician to teach her and Shireen the high harp and the lute. The girl’s septa kindly took Shireen under her wing, along with the younger Stark girl(when she wasn’t playing at swords with her water dancing master or dragging Shireen and Patchface into trouble) and their maid. She couldn’t really do much more than teach them etiquette and sewing, but she meant well, and she was too old to do anything else, so Stannis allowed it.

Sansa and Melisandre had begun a polite war. Word had been that the girl prayed as much in the sept as her father’s godswood, but she was little interested in opening her faiths any further, and clearly disliked the Red God’s followers for their fanatic disavowal of the older faiths. The small folk had been afraid that she was a witch, with her black wolf as a familiar, but when she proved kind and generous, they apparently decided that she was a good lady, whose wolf was a sign of favour by either the old gods, or the new.

#disney descendants fic #disney descendants #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #a game of thrones #a game of thrones fic #asoiaf #asoiaf fic

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taehyungsgrowl · 5 years

Note

Okay-so here’s some more sugar baby content because I LIVE for that shit. So Duncan comes home late to see Jim and the reader cuddling together in bed (both asleep) and he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever and gets turned on. So he tries to be as quiet as possible when he jerks off but he ends up waking Jim and he wakes up (Y/N) to help out Duncan.

hi! i missed them quite a bit! I hope you enjoy this! I had a lot of fun writing it.

i was hoping to have out my shy!hawthorne!michael out before this, but i was in the mood to write about duncan x sugar babies so here we are.

(also i based my tags off the earlier post and so if you liked it i’m tagging u bc i’m assuming thats what u meant and if not im sorry im just a dumb baby ok)

Duncan finally felt like he could breathe when he stepped into the corridors of his home. Too many long nights were spent away at the office when he could have been with his Jim and Y/N.

He quietly called out their name as he dropped his keys on the table. He soon realized they must have fallen asleep without him. He sighed a heavy sigh, wishing he had gotten to see more of them. He promised himself to take them out to the beach house again soon. Jim and Y/N always seemed their happiest when they were there. It was their little slice of heaven; for all three of them really.

Undoing the buttons of his crisp oxford blue shirt, he walked into his room to find them both fast asleep. Before he even entered the room, he could hear the melody of their soft snoring and breathing.

Jim was stripped to his heather grey boxer briefs that clung to his bottom, making it appear nice and firm. If there was one part of Jim’s body that drove Duncan mad - it was his thighs. Jim’s fleshy thighs were carelessly draped over Y/N’s. Both of their legs tangled with each other in the center of their California king sized bed.

Jim had one arm securely around their princess - tightly circling her bare torso. The only thing (besides Jim’s bicep) covering her were the poor excuse for panties she wore to bed. He knew one harsh tug and those panties could come apart. Flimsy, sheer lace adorned her - and if that weren’t enough to make Duncan’s blood rush to his cock, he noticed the way Jim’s hand was placed on her lower stomach, his fingers resting on the waistband of her panties. So close to slipping in.

A fleeting thought in Duncan’s mind is they did this on purpose. He feels himself straining in his pants; he finished unbuttoning his shirt, but left it hanging open on his shoulders. He was towering over them at the foot of the bed, careful not to make a sound - when Y/N let out the softest moan he’d ever heard, accompanied by a stretch and wiggle of her ass into Jim’s crotch. Even in his sleep, Jim instinctively pulled her closer.

“Fuck,” Duncan sighed. The dim lighting from the nightstand lamp made both of their skins achieve a soft glow and Duncan just wanted to reach out and touch them. Feel them. Kiss them.

His hands fumbled with his designer belt, struggling to pull it apart quickly in the heat of the moment. Shifting uncomfortably until finally he felt his pants pool around his ankle. What had come over him, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was the pent up tension at work or being away from them so so long that had Duncan leaking and desperate for them.

But seeing their calm, restful faces, sleeping peacefully, he didn’t have the heart to wake them. So he had to make do on his own. Duncan knew how to use his hands, not only on others, but on himself. He palmed at his underwear, allowing the tips of his fingers to trace the outline of his cock. Even though the cotton material, he could make out the veins on his length.

Duncan’s left hand ran down his chest as his slipped inside his waistband with his right hand. He gently pinched at his nipple before trailing down and pulling his underwear off. Once he was free he mimicked the way he would be touching Jim on his own cock. Letting his eyes flutter shut, he thumbed over the smooth head, spreading the precum down his shaft. Behind closed eyes he imagined how Jim would shudder with a touch like that.

“Mhmm,” the sound he made was primal and came from deep within his throat. He flicked his wrist upward, jerking his shaft. He senses were on fire; the AC kicked off in the room and made his already erect nipples pebble up. Beginning to pull and tug on his cock with gaining speed, his breathing quickened.

Thoughts of not waking them up, slowly leaving his conscious mind as he came increasingly louder. Labored breathing and throaty groans soon filled the room. He spit into his left hand to cover his cock in his hot saliva to twist and wrench himself util he was bucking his hips into his tight fist. “Baby,” he groaned aloud as he squeezed himself imagining it was Y/N’s tight little pussy clenching around him.

So lost in his arousal he missed Jim stirring awake. Jim had to blink a few times to ensure he wasn’t just having a wet dream. He slowly sat up, seeing Duncan’s shirt cling to his chest as it rose and fell quickly. His eyes wandered down to Duncan’s hand, tightly wrapped around his thick, lengthy cock.

“Argh,” Duncan continued with his eyes closed, unaware of the little audience he now had. There was nothing hotter than the sounds Duncan made - he never shied away from being a vocal man. His deep rasp resonated through his moans.

Jim gently shook Y/N awake. “Looks like daddy needs some help, princess..” he mumbled in her ear.

“Mmm?” she moaned out a sleepy question, slowly opening her eyes. Duncan must have thought the quiet sound he heard was all in his head as he responded to it, “That’s right, princess..”

Her mouth shaped into an “O” as her pout hung open, seeing the sheer pleasure their daddy was in. Exchanging an ever knowing glance at Jim, they both positioned themselves on their knees at the foot of the bed - a few mere inches away from the action.

“Do you need some help, daddy?” Jim’s giggle startled the older man. His eyes shot open. He didn’t know his cock could ache this much, but with both his babies barely dressed and on their knees for him - how could it not?

He let himself go, making his cock bounce freely. “Baby, please,” he reached for Jim’s head pulling him in closer, “I want you both,” his fingers tangled into Y/N’s hair.

Y/N scooted closer, placing a wet, sloppy kiss on his hip bone, “All you had to do was ask, daddy. It’s what we’re here for,” she winked up at him. Even with a sleepy smile, she managed to tease him.

As if on cue, both Jim and her kissed the sides of his shaft, their lips brushing past each other as they devoured Duncan in attention.

The way in which they synced with one another to please Duncan was other worldly. There was no fighting for attention because it was all for Duncan. Both Jim and Y/N thrived off making Duncan feel good.

They took turns with his cock in their mouths, edging him closer to his release. Where Y/N was slow, steady, and detail oriented; like gliding her tongue over each and every curve or swirling it around his head -- Jim was the opposite. It was complimentary, really. He was fast, wet, and sloppy. Drool dripped down his chin as Duncan hit the back of his throat. Ever the so helpful Y/N, licked it clean before kissing the base of Duncan’s cock.

With the duality of both sensations alternating, Duncan knew he would be cumming soon. He felt his strong thighs tense and his cock twitch. “Fuck, oh my god,” he gripped the hair of both of them tightly in two fists as he let his orgasm rip through him. He felt every nerve ending on his body become electric as he shot his load over both of them.

The mess he made was made even more erotic as Jim and Y/N cleaned each other off. Greedy mouths chased after his seed on each others skin. Y/N turned her attention back to Duncan and began kissing up his body. Jim loved seeing her all but crawl but Duncan. Her ass was in the air facing him and he couldn’t help but just grasp it his hands.

He gave her ass a firm smack, gaining an approving smirk from Duncan.

“Good to have you home, daddy,” she kissed his jaw and pulled him down on the bed with her.

With each sweet baby on either side of him, Duncan wrapped his arms around them both, letting them (and himself) rest for a moment. He kissed the top of Jim’s head, followed by Y/N’s head, “Glad to be home..” he sighed.

tagging these babies: @divinelangdon @desertsunflower00 @1-800-bitchcraft @langdonsinferno @peachesandfern @brieababy @lathraios @ladyren33 @miss-diamonds @nickisgirl @daadddysprincesss @duncan-sojourn @littlehouseofleaves @langdonswhoreprobably @lovelylangdonx @suspiciousamountofghosts

#me writing something w/o making it fluffy? idk her #duncan x sugar babies #jim mason #duncan shepherd #duncan x jim x y/n #duncan shepherd smut #jim mason smut #hoc #house of card #TTOPV #the tribes of palos verdes #cody fern #ahs #american horror story #duncan shepherd x reader #jim mason x reader

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irwinkitten · 5 years

Text

knockout round | a.i

(gif credit to @asht0ns-world )

pairing: reader x boxer!ashton notes: so the who do you love video lowkey inspired this. even tho the majority of the video is lowkey pointless, the looks that ashton was giving the camera gave me such a boxer!ash vibe and lets be real i’m a hoe for possessive and jealous ash. thank u to @asht0ns-world @singledadharrington, @gorgeouslygrace, @sugarcoated-pain and @5sosnsfw for letting me throw out my ideas of this and killing you all with the potential plot ideas. also thank u christa for being the best cheerleader, i love u angel. and massive thank u to lena for finding the gif bc my laptop has issues warnings: violence, smut word count: 3.1k!!

---

Boxing had always been apart of Ashton’s life. He’d never really known a part of his life without it.

As a child, his temperament was always short. Teachers called him the problem child and people never wanted to be his friend. But he still managed to find three friends and forge a tight bond with them that people often called them brothers without even realising there was no familial resemblance to the quartet.

When his mother had enrolled him into boxing classes, after expressing an interest in the programs that he watched with his parents, they soon realised that with the lessons that he went to, his anger simmered down and his fuse seemed to get longer with each passing year.

By the time that Ashton had reached his late teens, he was the lightweight champion of the area. As he continued to grow, put on the muscle, and move up in the divisions, he was making a name for himself. He was one that wasn’t to be messed with.

As his name gained traction with the media, so did stories of his childhood, his anger. And he was a lot more honest about his childhood than most boxers.

“I had a good environment. But I have anger issues and I know that I have them. It’s taken years of hard work to get to where I am today, but I know that the driving force has always been my anger. It’s both a blessing and a curse.”

His competitors could never find his achilles heel. His love life was never a subject that he talked or posted about, and despite a few competitors going below the belt and making remarks about his mother that would’ve angered any man, he’d held his cool and then thoroughly beaten them the next day.

When she came into his life, it was steady. She’d just come from a bad relationship, her heart in tatters and the two of them shopping late night. He’d been running for last minute prep and she’d decided to drown her sorrows in alcohol and ice cream. She knew his name, knew his title that he held in the boxing world.

But she didn’t care. All she cared about was he’d picked up the last tub of her favourite ice cream and just at her absolutely defeated look, it prompted him to offer her a deal.

“Let me at least take you out somewhere for the day where we can be kids again. I’ve got some days off coming up anyway.”

His words had prompted the smallest of smiles as she accepted his offer as he handed her the ice cream and she gave him her number, under the stipulation that he wouldn’t be creepy about it.

And despite giving her a mock offended look, he understood her wariness of giving her number to someone who was essentially a complete stranger.

From then on, she became a rock in his life who seemed to have his back regardless. His three friends from childhood who’d all become apart of his management team as he gained status with his boxing, noticed how he was always in better moods, he stuck to the plans before fights and before long the friendship blossomed into a relationship that he was protective of.

But of course, whilst in the media spotlight, he knew that keeping such a relationship quiet was always going to be impossible.

But the day that it’d been announced that he was against her ex, the very one who left her a broken woman in the ice cream aisle, he knew that this fight was going to be important, whether she acknowledged it or not, this was payback for hurting the beautiful woman he was resolutely in love with.

He’d never been so revved for a match before.

Ashton knew that she was worried, that her bottom lip would be shredded beyond belief from her teeth. But he wasn’t.

Dean Martin has gone the wrong way to rile him up, to use his girl as verbal bait. And hearing the derogatory terms, Ashton wasn’t too sure if he was grateful that Calum’s hand on his bicep reminded him where he was, or if he was still annoyed over it.

He was certainly annoyed that the hand turned into a restraining arm when Martin had made a comment of bedding his girl, with or without her permission. He’d seen red and as rage flooded his body, his muscles locked up, ready to pound the fucker down.

Calum had hastily pulled Ashton away from his opponent, opting to keep the distance between them so that Ashton wouldn’t be tempted to knock Martin out before the match.

The headlines went wild with those shots and the look of undiluted rage on Ashton’s features. People were very quickly realising that even he has his limits and Dean Martin had managed to break those limits clean.

Being with her before the match, his hands were firmly around her waist as she stood between his legs. Despite his trainer telling him no distractions, she was never a distraction. Only an anchor. And right now he needed to ground himself because the last thing he wanted to do was lose this fight to someone like Dean Martin.

“Baby, you’ve got this fight in the bag.” She hummed softly, her lips ghosting across his cheek. Ashton sighed.

“I hate the fact that it’s your ex I’m fighting.” He finally admitted and she sighed, her fingers running through his hair. His eyes fell shut of their own accord, her touch soothing the rage that was bubbling under the surface. Martin’s comments still rang in his ears.

“He wasn’t a good man. You’re the better man, better partner.” The words were soft, almost caressing his soul and he felt reassured.

“Only because of you, sweet girl. I’m better because of you.” Her lips curved up into a wry grin as she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

“I’m proud of you Ash. You’ve got this fight in the bag, and if that boy tries what he did for the weigh in, I won’t be angry or upset. Lord knows you’ve told me time and again that anyone disrespecting me within earshot of you will earn them either a verbal lashing or a physical one depending on their words.” Her tone was teasing, reminding him that she wouldn’t be angry with him.

It’d been an issue at first, his verbal and physical responses to people being either disrespectful or derogatory about his girl. But only when he told her his reasons, how he was raised to respect a woman, regardless of any kinds of relationship, she understood that it was something that he could tone down but not necessarily control.

And they compromised on it. He tried to keep it to verbal smackdowns, and only if someone threw the first punch, did he defend himself. His reputation grew within months and soon when they’d been together for two years, he was at the top of his career.

“Irwin, ten minutes. Your girl needs to go.” Calum had re-entered the locker room, giving her a brief smile. “Seats for you are close to ringside. He’s on the blue corner.” She nodded, pressing another gentle kiss to his forehead before making her way, ruffling Calum’s hair as she did.

Ashton laughed at the disgruntled look on Calum’s face and he could feel his body begin to gear as he did the last minute stretches.

“Martin’s going to hit hard and fast. You need to be swift. Don’t use everything you have until he starts to wear down.” Ashton nodded, focusing on the aspect of the fight, rather than who he was fighting. He couldn’t let his anger cloud his judgement or moves, not so early on into the match.

Calum was soon hustling him to the entrance corner, both of them knocking fists together before he rushed ahead to prep his area. As the music began playing, he pulled the silk robe on, the hood falling just over his eyes as he made his way out, loud screams causing a smirk to slip on his features as he began the walk through, Luke and Michael following behind at this point and keeping people on the floor seats from mobbing him.

Martin was stood scowling, doing a last minute stretch as his gloves were being put on. Once Ashton was in the ring, Calum was there, pulling the robe off and getting the gloves onto his wrapped up hands.

“Remember, you might be fucking angry with him, but I swear to god Irwin, if you let this fucker beat you, I’ll kick your ass myself.” This caused Ashton to crack a smile before Calum put the mouth guard in and Ashton went and met the ref in the middle. He and Martin touched gloves before the bell went and the first swing came from Martin, aiming for the jaw, causing Ashton to bend backwards to avoid getting clocked.

The noise was deafening and Ashton knew his focus was slipping as Martin landed in some good punches. It was getting close and he could feel himself dropping as he lost the round, his lip bloody and a cut on his cheek, half staggering back to Calum who seemed to be trying his best not to berate him.

But then she was there beside Calum, her hands on his cheeks once he’d been checked over.

“Do me proud, Ashton Fletcher. I know you can beat him.” And his second wind came as the next round got ready.

“Gonna let your bitch lean over for me later when I win? It’s all she ever really was good for.” The comment was crass, but the fuse was lit.

“Irwin, don’t let anger cloud your judgement here.” Calum snapped harshly. The last thing they needed was his focus to be lost, but if anything, his focus was sharpening. And he could feel the anger bubble under his skin.

“C’mon Irwin. Make sure to share the spoils. I mean, she’s second hand goods, surely you’re not still with her?” Ashton’s eyes caught hers and he could see she’d heard his calls. His fuse seemingly got shorter as he gave her a reassuring smile, taking the offered water and taking a few seconds to calm his racing heart.

“How about this, I share her with some buddies and drop her back to you. She might be in reasonable condition if she doesn’t fight like she used to. Always feisty until I got her to see sense, if you catch my drift.” The smirk on Martin’s lips as the words left his mouth snapped something inside of Ashton and the anger that had been bubbling, flooded.

And he was furious.

The bell went and Ashton immediately had Martin on his back foot, unable to even get close for a hit as Ashton’s fists repeatedly went for him, reminding himself to not murder his opponent.

It didn’t take long before there became a real look of fear in Martin’s eyes and Ashton felt no ounce of sympathy as he landed a knockout and the crowd roared in approval. It didn’t take long before the last round was won and his arm was being raised, a bruised rib protesting as he was handed the belt and his lips curved into the widest smirk.

Martin was lucky to get away with the injuries that he got. Two visible black eyes, a few cuts and Ashton was almost certain he managed to at least fracture a rib with the force of his hit at one point. Part of him wished that he broke something clean but he’d take what he could get in this fight. Knowing that he’d gotten what he deserved, settled the anger to a simmer, the adrenaline still flooding his body.

As he exited the ring, he couldn’t stop himself from pulling his girl into his side, his lips meeting hers in a soft, sweet kiss, ignoring the disappointed noises. Once he pulled away, his gaze moved to Martin, staring at him out, his grip only getting marginally tighter until he left the opposite side.

Ashton retreated back to his side, his arms still firmly around her as the medic double checked the rib to make sure it was only bruised and not broken, before clearing him to go and get cleaned up.

She didn’t protest as he pulled her with, her back pressed against the cold tiles as his lips met her neck, the hot water beating down on his back.

“All mine to care for, to love on.” He murmured against her skin, lips and teeth gently pulling at the skin. Her fingers lifted up to run through his hair, gripping the damp strands gently.

“All yours.” She whispered in return, a sharp gasp escaping as his lips had moved to her breasts, his teeth pulling on one nipple carefully as his hand worked the other. She was whining softly, his name escaping occasionally.

His lips moved from her breasts, trailing down as he got to his knees, a whine escaping her lips.

“Shouldn’t it be me rewarding you, handsome?” He shook his head at her words, moving her fingers back to his hair.

“All about you tonight, doll.” She was about to argue, but his tongue licked a stripe up her folds, a startled noise escaping her instead as she gripped his hair, his lips attaching to her clit. He worked two fingers inside of her as he nipped and sucked on her clit, the noises were somewhat beautiful sounds to his ears as she got closer to her orgasm.

Her fingers got tighter around his hair as she called out his name, his lips immediately beginning a journey back up her body slowly sliding his fingers out as he stood up, lifting his fingers to her lips, tapping them gently.

They parted under his touch and her tongue swirled around his digits, a groan escaping his lips as she cleaned them. He wasted no time as he pulled them free, his lips meeting hers as he lined up against her entrance.

“You’re far too good to me, princess.” He groaned as he slid in, her legs lifting off the ground to wrap around his waist. His hands immediately moved to cup her ass as his hips began to move against hers, moans escaping the both of them.

He knew that he wasn’t going to last too long, not with the protesting rib, so one hand slid from her ass, moving to her clit as he picked up his pace. Her words were half begging, incoherent as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

As she came, her eyes falling shut, his head dropped to her shoulder as he reached his own orgasm, her name tumbling from his lips like a prayer, her fingers still working through his hair, their breathing heavy as he pressed gentle kisses on the marks he’d left on her skin.

“I love it when you mark me like that. I know I’m always yours, but seeing them, just sets my insides on fire.” She murmured as he pulled out from her, finally allowing her under the stream of hot water. She kept her hair from the stream of the water as she allowed it to hit her skin.

“Just as I’m yours, sweet girl. I’m sorry if I hurt you though.” His fingers ghosted across the red marks left by his fingers, and she shook her head at him.

“You of all people know that I love seeing them.” She murmured as she reached over, taking the shampoo and working it into his hair. His eyes fell shut at her ministrations and didn’t argue with her. She always told him she loved seeing the marks, but sometimes it didn’t stop the guilt flooding him.

He worked the shower gel along her body as she conditioned his hair. They worked in silence until she’d gotten the suds of the shower gel off his body. His hands switched the water off as her lips slowly moved across from his shoulder, along his collarbone before finding the junction of his neck and shoulder, trailing her lips along the column of his throat.

A soft noise escaped his lips as she reached his jaw, before her lips reached his once more, her hands taking a hold of his head, her palms firmly planted against his cheeks. He knew better than to look away from her when she was this determined.

“I love you, Ashton Irwin, and that won’t ever change. We have words for a reason, and you know I use them. Please don’t beat yourself up, sweetheart.” His lips met hers briefly before a sigh escaped.

“Sorry angel.”

“Your forgiven. Now, we need to get ready and head back home. I know that the boys will want to at least spend a quiet night in celebrating with you.” Her voice held amusement, knowing that despite her want for the two of them to continue their own celebrations, the other three would deliberately ruin that.

Ashton laughed.

“They’re too frightened to cross you, y’know. If you said that you were taking me home, they wouldn’t argue.” He commented as the two stepped from the shower and dried off. She lifted her shoulders into a shrug as she got re-dressed.

“I know, but I don't want them bitching at me, because I want days with you, not just a few hours. So they get the few hours and then I get days. And they know better than to show up unannounced after a match.” The grin that she wore made him laugh as he got dressed.

Once they were ready, his hand slid into hers, fingers interlacing as they headed out back to the waiting cars to get the two of them home. Michael was the first to throw his arm across Ashton’s shoulders as they trio caught up with the two.

“So, we’re drinking at yours then?” She raised an eyebrow pointedly at Ashton, Michael’s words simply proving her point. He rolled his eyes before grinning.

“Of course. M’lookin’ forward to the headlines that are gonna come out from this fight.” Calum laughed as he threw his own arm around her shoulders.

“They’re gonna point out how no one can seemingly knock you down. You’re like a rock.” Luke teased and Ashton rolled his eye as Michael moved his arm from his friends shoulders.

Once they reached his place, the other three didn’t protest as she helped check him over before all but ordering him to put his feet up. The others were about to make a comment, but one look stopped the thoughts dead in their tracks and she received sheepish smiles in return as she finally settled into his good side.

It was worth it all in her eyes.

---

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kewltie · 5 years

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so i have been actively following this super rad manga series called, “Otome Kaijuu Caramelize”, which is about a girl who occasionally turns into a giant ass monster, a kaiju, in the presence of her crush. it’s quirky, weird, and so damn cute so ofc it’s right up my alley. and thanks to that godzilla!bakugou artwork we saw waaaaaay back I COULDN’T GET THIS IDEA OUT OF MY HEAD.

katsuki is the (next) defender/protector of japan after his mother, the great queen of monsters, had decided she was going to save humanity instead of destroying bc she fell in love with a human call masaru (imagine a giant ass monster WOOING YOU lmao). he’s half kaiju and half human and all temperamental shit, but he gotten good at controlling his transformation which he can now call upon command at will. when he was younger, though, it easily get triggered by any kind of emotional stress/strained but he’s older now and he’s NO NOOB!!! most of the time, katsuki is just a normal high schooler, abit a highly competitive and talented one, but sometimes when there’s a kaiju attacking the coast of japan katsuki transform into his monster alter ego BAKUSHINCHI, a giant firebreathing lizard monster, that protect japan from other giant ass monster!!!!!!

he’s a national secret and is under intense scrutiny so katsuki never had a normal life either by the people who knows who he really is (fear, awe, and nerves are abound in his presence) or his peers who views him as peculiar and odd bc they don’t know how or why but there’s just something strange and inhuman about bakugou. the only exception is his childfriend deku who no matter how much katsuki tried to push him away, izuku always come BACK and is fiercely loyal to katsuki. also, while most people spurn kaiju and think they’re a nuisance even though they have a KAIJU PROTECTOR IN THE FORM OF KATSUKI AND HIS MOM, izuku kind of um... a fanboy of these kaiju?? e doesn’t seem to fear them at all and even entertain the idea that humans and kaiju can coexist in peace :OOOOO. WHICH had made his childhood rough bc other kids call him the monster’s lover :((((((. it’s actually bc as a child, izuku’s life was save by a kaiju and ever since them he saw them very differently (that kaiju may or may not be katsuki), but also bc he’s a just a good boy at heart and doesn’t see them in all black and white.

though katsuki and izuku grew up together, izuku was never let in on katsuki’s secret or the true nature of katsuki’s mother. his parents are both scientists who work on the super SECRET lab that study kaiju and as part of that program katsuki was exposed to izuku as a child bc they’re the same age and izuku’s parents thought katsuki needed someone of equal peer so he woudn’t be lonely and have someone to play. izuku had absolutely no clue that the boy he saw in the lab, HIS ONLY FRIEND when he was a child, is the the bakushinchi that fighting for japan against other kaiju right now.

they got separated around the age of 8 or 10 when a kaiju accidental nearly killed izuku bc izuku and katsuki was allowed to go outside together but under strict surveillance. in this one occasion a kaiju appeared and attacked the place they were at and katsuki wanted to transformed and fight it BUT izuku is right next to him and if he transformed than he was afraid that he would lose izuku and izuku would be terrified of him. his human self couldn’t do much against another kaiju but izuku, who isn’t exactly fearless, with trembling legs stood up and tried to protect katsuki WITH HIS SMALL BODY SOBS. but with a single wave of its hand, the kaiju slapped izuku against a wall and izuku was knocked out. that all it took for katsuki to go berserk and transformed into his kaiju alter ego and fought. they leveled an entire city block with their fighting but he managed to save everyone and izuku. that day cemented his desire to protect everyone, but he couldn’t go through losing izuku again.

ever since that day, katsuki disappeared from izuku’s life but izuku never stop looking and hoping katsuki would come back even though he fears that it was him that caused katsuki to go away bc he was weak and couldn’t save katsuki in the end. katsuki actually was training with his mom to control his kaiju power so that one day he can take her place as the defender of japan!!!!!! it won’t be until many years later when they’re both 16-17 years old that they meet again and katsuki got his powers locked down. he has been taking his mother’s place to fight other kaiju as the bakushinchi and in one of these battles he meet izuku again bc IZUKU ever since that day when he nearly died and he was saved by the bakushinchi, he has become enamored with kaijus and wanted to be close. He staked out every kaiju’s battles and put himself in the line to record every details and post it on his fansite--which has all the detail and info about a lot of kaiju... but most specifically the bakushinchi who he admits to favoring A LOT.

katsuki in his kaiju form is fighting some kind of worm with a hundred eyes and he had been worked hard by his mother to get this point where can hold his own against many low-mid tier kaiju and HE HASN’T LOST A BATTLE YET, but the moment he recognized that small form (which is v v v hard bc katsuki is like the size of tokyo tower and everyone kind of look like an ant to him in this form) he got so distracted that he took a tail whipped from the other kaiju and flew into a building. katsuki manages to slap himself sober and put all his focus into the fight so he can yell at izuku later for, like, while everyone was RUNNING AWAY FROM TWO RAMPAGING MONSTERS izuku WAS RUNNING TOWARD THEM INSTEAD bc he’s a reckless idiot!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and that’s how they reunite, right after the battle when everything was cleared out and the SUPER SECRET ORG that in charged of kaiju (and occasionally katsuki when he is deem controllable lol) is there to make sure everything is okay, katsuki had turned back into his human self and kinda let izuku assume that he’s part of the org and not, like, IS THE ORG.

so yea, izuku and katsuki meet again upon the aftermath of the kaiju battle where katsuki yell at izuku a lot for what he did while izuku is just super happy to reunite with his childhood friend who disappeared over five years ago. katsuki worked so hard to finally get to this point where he can fully control his power and be near other ppl safely!! but the moment he meet izuku again, katsuki’s heart races and his cheek flush and he can feel the bones underneath his skin trying to break out of his human flesh!!!!!!!!! he thinks it’s fluke. katsuki battles giant ass monsters, HE IS A GIANT ASS MONSTER, and he even knocked his mom down (once!! before she kick his ass but w/e she’s the queen of the monsters so that’s pretty impressive on his part) so NO HUMAN IS GOING TO FUCK WITH HIM. except izuku does totally fuck with him lmao.

now that they reunited katsuki got permission to join the human’s world as just another teen boy and enrolled himself into izuku school bc he worked soooo hard to prove himself to everyone that he’s SAFE and he can maintain control of his form!!!!! but the more he exposed to izuku the more he realizes these flash of uncontrolable urge and panic energy around izuku is him HAVING A CRUSH AND FREAKING OUT OVER IT. like, when he was younger it was his emotional outburst that triggered his transformation but he’s older and more mature and can handle his power, yet the moment izuku get too close to him he can himself losing control and scales apart on his arm ;AJSDF;ALSJDF lol.

but it’s not like the crush just appear out of nowhere!! it was nurture since young bc kaiju mate for life. katsuki didn’t know it yet but all that biting izuku’s cheek when they were little (which izuku thought was kinda weird but just katsuki being katsuki) was katsuki laying claim to izuku as his mate. izuku is diff bc he is strong of heart, good nature, and he just loves people so fiercely and katsuki though has the burden to protect japan and humanity is performing his duty but doesn’t nececesary see the value in humanity in the end bc he protects them but they still treat him as a monster, something to be fear and use, bc he knows that the japanese gov’t does everything to keep him a secret and safe but they do it bc they NEED HIM TO FIGHT. but izuku doens’t need him for anything, he just want to be by katsuki’s side sobs!!!!!!! so how could katsuki ever resist that????

izuku isn’t in love with katsuki though. he loves KATSUKI but not in love so katsuki has to work to get izuku to see him in that light. not that he has to work THAT hard at all lol bc izuku was already kinda crazy in love katsuki’s kaiju form bc izuku never forgot the kaiju that saved him when he was a kid and HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW IT’S KATSUKI!!!! so that save a lot of trouble for katsuki in case he ever reveal his secret, not that katsuki had any idea that izuku is totally ok with A MONSTER BF bc most ppl aren’t lol :P.

so katsuki takes to wooing his mate as awkwardly as possible bc his frame of ref is literally his mother (whose never let the fact that she’s a kaiju stop her from chasing after his father, HIS VERY TINY FATHER in comparison to her). but the wooing is kinda diffuclt and DANGEROUS, not bc of izuku who is wary of katsuki or anything but of katsuki himself bc everytime izuku touches him katsuki freaks out and his heart just GO DOKIDOKI AND HE CAN FEEL THE URGE TO DESTROY THINGS AND JUST READY TO BREAK SOMEONE FACE IN. everything about izuku is a trigger--the way he smile, his warm laughter, and how he look at izuku with total admiration and it’s all in the way he wears his feelings all over his face. he doesn’t hide how he feels at all and izuku is just full of love for humanity and even KAIJU that katsuki CAN’T HANDLE IT AND JUST WANT TO RAMPAGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

so like, dating for them is such a dangerous concept that the japanese org have an entire TEAM full of people prepping and watching izuku and katsuki’s dates, trying to make sure katsuki DOESN’T GO BERSERK over some dumb things like handholding and it’s the most embarrasing, sweet, and hilarious THING EVER. their guardians don’t know whether to laugh or cry that this scary ass monster boy is like so terrified and nervous over this green eyes boy that he transformed into his monster form anytime they touch!!!!!!!!!!!!

so here are these adults, badass adults themselves who work at a super secret org that deal with giant city destroying monsters, and they’re here surveillance two kids going on a date bc one of them just happen to be the monster boy that is defending their country and the other also happen to be the boy THAT HE IS IN LOVE WITH. it’s all hilarious and ridiculous and they aren’t pay ENOUGH OR THIS SHIT as they watch katsuki try not to freak out at izuku leaning in to close and blow up the entire city block in the process!!!!!!!!!!

the world is constantly bombard with monsters trying to destroy humanity and here is katsuki one of the last lines of defense and is a BAD ASS MONSTER HIMSELF find himself can’t handle a simple human boy and that’s just a;ja;sjdf;alsjdf;alsdjf;alsdjf the greatest love story on earth.

#bakudeku #not!fic #fic: doki doki

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