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tojiot · 3 years

Note

ooh have about the main three with the fake dating trope :D

fake dating the main three

gn!reader, cursing here and there, typos and grammatical errors to be edited, past tense - present tense swerving to be fixed.

note: i was on vacation for 2 days without internet and i have bakugo's done in my notes but my phone died before i can even save it :D this will be kinda long because i went ahead of myself and detailed it exactly how i want. this is not betaed. please do tell me if there's a non they/them pronouns in here. hope you'll enjoy this!

requests are: open!

ㅡ bakugo

i spent the whole day thinking about how he'll agree to fake date. let's just say he's the one in need.

his mom has been bothering him for a long time now. she wants to see katsuki bring home a partner for them to meet.

it's a pain in the ears and he's very TIRED so he decided to just fake date somebody.

the only person he can tolerate in class a aside from kirishima is you. he doesn't care about the other extras.

he'll search for you in the heights' lounge area and ask to talk.

"hey, can we talk?" he grumbles, "uhh, sure? do you want to talk here or somewhere private?" "somewhere private."

when you guys are in a more private area, he'd glare at you for a minute, it'll make you wonder if you did something wrong, before finally speaking.

"date me for a fucking day."

you'll snort at what he said and laugh thinking it was a joke but the annoyed and impatient look on his face says otherwise.

"wait.. are you for real?" "what do you think, shithead?"

bakugo trusts you so much that you have this significant role to play in his life.

you agreed, of course. it's the bakugo katsuki asking for your help. a once in a lifetime chance. (you just like him, stop making things up)

he brings you to the bakugo household the day after and his house is BIG big.

mitsuki, his mom, welcomes you with a big smile and a hug. he then glares at his son, "WHY ARE YOU ONLY BRINGING THIS PRETTY LITTLE CREATURE NOW, YOU BRAT?" "SHUT UP, OLD HAG! BE NICE OR I AIN'T BRINGING THEM HERE NO MORE."

masaru, who's just sitting there at the couch like nothing's happening, gives you a wave.

the dinner was good. his mom's a great cook, his father's a chatterbox. what surprised you the most was how quiet katsuki is. you're not sure why. maybe he's like this at home? quiet, calm, just serene.

"it's not everyday i see a person who can tame my brat of a son. i can see why he likes you, (y/n)." his mom beams at you, "you're pretty, a kind little one too. take care of my son, will ya?"

not knowing what to say, you smiled at her and said what's currently inside your mind, "if he'll let me, i'll take care of him for the rest of my life." you looked down, "but knowing katsuki, he doesn't need anyone to take care of him. he's strong and independent and he knows it. it'll hurt his pride if someone helps him without him asking them to." you smiled to yourself, "i just hope he knows that when he needs me, i'll always be here for him."

mitsuki smiled at you in awe. you have the mother's approval, congrats!

katsuki just stared at you with furrowed eyebrows, masaru pats his back, "good job, son. i'm happy for you."

he then murmured a protest before drinking his water.

time passed by and it's eventually your time to say goodbye to the bakugos.

mitsuki hugs you for the last time and ask you to come have dinner with them again, masaru pats your head and thanks you for being there for his son.

both of you were in a car provided by the school for safety protocols when he spoke, "did you mean it?"

you looked at him, confused, "mean what?" "what you said earlier to my mom, shithead. did you mean it?" "well, yeah. i mean it when i say i'll always be here for you."

he wore this unreadable and unclear expression on his face. he looks mad? confused? no one knows.

"why?" he asked, "why what?" "WHY DO YOU KEEP MAKING ME REPEAT MYSELF. WHY DID YOU SAY IT?" "YOU'RE A FRIEND OF MINE, THAT'S IT."

he chuckled bitterly, "a friend. that's fucking funny. i literally though you also like me for a second."

huh.. what does he mean? also? you laughed nervously, "hey, did i hear you right? thought i heard 'also' there."

"you're fucking dense, aren't you? do you want me to scream it straight at your face? i fucking like you."

you froze. yes, but embarrassment caught up and you covered your reddened face, "WHY ARE YOU SUDDENLY CONFESSING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT? WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO SAY?"

"I AIN'T EXPECTING YOU TO SAY ANYTHING, SHITHEAD!" "I LIKE YOU TOO!" "SHUT THE FUCK UP I DON'T WANT YOUR PITY OF A CONFESSION." "IT'S NOT A PITY OF A CONFESSION BUT FINE! I DON'T LIKE YOU." "OKAY THEN. I'M BRINGING SOMEONE ELSE NEXT DINNER AND TELL THE OLD HAG WE BROKE UP." "NOOOOOOO!!"

ㅡ todoroki

i was contemplating whether to have him help fake date or have him need help. it's fitting if he's the one in need so i decided just that.

he might seem dense and clueless most of the time but he's the epitome of evilness.

he talks about you all the time that's why fuyumi has taken a liking to you and asked shoto to invite you to dinner with them.

shoto sees this as a chance. he'll take advantage of the situation because he knows you won't say no.

he goes to where you are sitting, "i apologize but my sister, fuyumi, she thinks we're dating. she wants to invite you to dinner at our house later." he said that with a straight face but this mf is smirking on the inside.

"uhhh, okay? sure? but uhm, why would she think we're dating?" "she thinks everyone close to me is dating me. she's like that.. yes. fuyumi likes you the most, i think. that's.. uh, that's why she's inviting you to dinner." (I HC HIM AS A BAD LIAR)

sounds suspicious and weird, but okay? you have a lot of question in mind.

"i would go. but how should i act? why didn't you tell her we aren't dating though?" "i don't want to disappoint my sister. you can act like you're dating me, if it's fine with you. just for a day."

"sure, sure! just tell me where and what time. i'll be there." "no, you can come with me. we'll go there together."

he brings you to the todoroki household after class. their house is soooo pretty. it's a traditional japanese house.

fuyumi was the first one to greet you, with her sparkling eyes and bright smile, she held both your hands gently and said, "i'm so glad you came! i've been wanting to ask shoto to have you come eat with us. thank you for coming!"

natsuo jogged from the back and gave you a cool wave, "hey, (y/n). how was it dealing with shoto?"

you faked sighed, "awful. how did you deal with him for the last 16 years?" "we never did." "oh.... OH NO I'M SORRY!" "HAHAHA. it's fine, i'm just kidding. no biggie."

enji won't be home for the day. he's busy doing number 1 hero works.

the dinner was fun. it was the funniest dinner you have ever had.

shoto's quietness is the exact opposite of natsuo's talkativeness. that man is talkative and funny as fuck. throwing jokes everywhere. it was entertaining.

all shoto did was take care of you. he serves you all the food you point at, gets you water, he even went too close for comfort and wiped a stain just above your lips. it made you blush, yes. you don't know why but it left you lightheaded. (you're in love with him, that's why)

fuyumi.. our beautiful and beloved fuyumi.

she exposed his brother's ass.

"aww. you guys are so cute together. ah! (y/n), do you remember that time when.. uhm, kaminari was it? i forgot his name but do you remember that time where he told you, midoriya, and the girls to wear a maid costume for the festival because your class is having a maid cafe booth? shoto told me you were so pretty that time! he hated how the boys in your class looked at you like you were some sweet treat, isn't that right, shoto?"

"and do you remember when you fought bakugo at the sports festival? where it was a close fight and you gave him a hard time? shoto said you won if the decision was up to him and that you were so cool!"

and she went on and on.

shoto was red as a tomato (or even redder) beside you. he was clutching his pants as if he was asking the floor to just eat him up.

you decided to ask him about this later to not uncover the fake dating plan.

dinner ended after a little talking, fuyumi gave you leftovers to take home which you will not reject because her cooking is divine, and asked you to come again after giving you a big and warm hug.

natsuo gave you a high five and thanked you for coming. he also thanked you for laughing at his jokes. he feels like he's very funny now.

both said goodbye to shoto.

the journey back to the heights was quiet but not awkward. it seems like shoto knew you have a lot in mind.

you spoke when he's about to open the main door. "what was that?" he looked at you with a confused expression, "the one at dinner."

"ah, if it isn't obvious yet after my sister opened her mouth, i like you. i have been for a long time now." he said that with a deadpan expression, "it annoyed me at first, it annoyed me that you're in my mind whenever i try to sleep, you're in my mind everytime i wake up. it annoyed me that i want nothing more than to hold you near me, hold your hands, warm you up with my fire everytime you feel cold, hug you, kiss you." he sighed frustratedly, "i just want to do everything with you... i'm sorry. i'm not good with words."

WELL YOU DID NOT EXPECT HIM TO BE THIS STRAIGHTFORWARD.

but again, this is todoroki shoto.

"..what? shoto... i didn't know you felt that way. why didn't you tell me?" you asked him concernedly, you lifted your hand to hold his face but stopped halfway thinking maybe he doesn't want to be touched.

but then he held your hand and guided it to hold his face, "i didn't actually plan to confess but when people started talking about how good of a hero you'd become in the future and when everyone started saying they all want to date you, that's when i decided it's now or never." he looked at your eyes, "i don't want to lose this chance. that's why i started telling fuyumi stories about you and asking her what to do."

"is that why your sister thought we were dating?" "yes. she knows about how i feel for you. she told me to confess and i told her i did and that it went well. i lied to her. i don't know why."

you coughed, "so, she doesn't really think everyone close to you is dating you?" "yes." "you lied to me?" "yes, i apologize."

"you could have told me you like me too!?" "it's not that easy to confess. plus, i really wanted to know how everything will go. it went well, i'm satisfied. you like me too, right?" "i do, shoto. i like you so much." he smiled at you, that rare fucking smile he knows is pretty, "that's enough for me."

"BUT YOU TOOK ADVANTAGE OF EVERYTHING?" "yes. yes, i did." "WHAT THE HELL'S WRONG WITH YOU!!?" "date me, (y/n)" "OKAY!"

ㅡ midoriya

a lot of guys from the other class have been bothering you. they kept on asking for your number and stuff. one even sent you flowers and a box of chocolates.

you appreciate it if you're being honest. what you don't appreciate is them sticking to you the whole lunch.

you told mina what's happening and she told you that the best shot of getting off those admirers of yours is to date somebody.

you don't wanna to that though. aside from focusing on studies, you have feelings for this certain someone with green messy hair and freckles. you don't want to date someone just to use them and lie to them.

"you know, what if you just get your shit together and confess to midoriya?" "MINA, BE QUIET! SOMEONE MIGHT HEAR YOU!" "confess to midoriya!" she whispired.

"or just ask him to date you until your followers stop following you around?" kaminari interjects, "what, you mean like, fake date him?" "yeah. something like that." "you're really useful sometimes, aren't you?" "shut up, mina."

you've thought about it all night. would izuku think i'm using him? would he reject the idea? would he be mad about it?

after contemplating, you finally went out of your room and walked straight at his door. he opened it with a smile after 3 knocks.

"hey, (y/n)! how can i help you?"

you looked at him nervously. what you were about to ask is a big part to act. "i will get straight to the point. some people from the other classes have been bothering me for a while now. they keep on following me and asking for my number even though i rejected them all the time. i want to ask you if you could date me? IT'S FAKE! OF COURSE. will you please fake date me until they get off me? i, uh, i'm not taking advantage of your kindness. i promise. right?" you said with a shaking voice.

he laughed at your rambling, "no need to be nervous, (y/n)! i would love to do the honors and fake date you! it's like an undercover hero mission. it's so cool! when do we start?"

you smiled at his enthusiasms. izuku is really the kindest person here on earth. you told him what to do, who those people are, etc. your fake dating starts tomorrow.

izuku was waiting outside your door when you opened it, he has his usual beaming smile when you saw him, "hi, (y/n)! ready to start our mission?" he's surely so into this whole thing.

you both walked down the lounge area holding each other's hand. everyone was gaping at the sight except todoroki who remained munching on his sandwich and bakugo who, well, "fucking finally you idiots." he said.

izuku let go of your hand and held both his hands up while shaking his head in a panicky manner, "no, no! we're just fake dating. i'm helping (y/n) get rid of their admirers! they said it was bothering them!"

"okay. but (y/n), why deku?" the motherfucker was smirking at you. todoroki, bless him, caught the panic in your eyes and called bakugo off. "that's enough, bakugo. leave them alone." "tsk! fucking icyhot a fucking killjoy."

most of your admirers stopped following you after they saw you holding hands with izuku. he's been doing a lot for you. he tried to tie your hair at training and brought you water. nothing much happened inside the classroom because everyone knows it's just a show. lots of outsiders believe you're dating izuku. some still bothers you from time to time especially at lunch.

you were sitting with bakugo, todoroki, kirishima, and of course, izuku, when a group of 3 went to your table (they're brave. no one would come bother bakugo's table because everyone's terrified of him.)

"hey, (y/n). can you give me your number now? i just wanted to get to know you better." "(y/n) give me your number! i'll send you lots of chocolates. i promise!" "they're liars but i'm not. i'd take you to your favorite movie this sunday of you'll give me your number?"

you pursed your lips in an annoyed manner, your friends are here and they're embarrassing you. you were about to speak when izuku beats you to it, "please stop bothering (y/n). it's obvious that my partner doesn't want to give you their number."

the group stared at each other with bewildered expressions on their faces, one looked at izuki and asked, "partner? you mean, combat partner or boyfriend? (y/n)'s dating someone?"

izuku wore a prideful expression on his face, "yes, i am their boyfriend and they're dating someone. that's why with all due respect, please leave them alone."

the 3 backed out and apologized. not everyone has the same personality as mineta. the person who seemed like their leader walked forward and bowed, "we're so sorry. we should've stopped when they rejected us the first time. they're just so intriguing that's why we wanted to know more about them. we're really sorry." with that, they left.

you faced izuku and thanked him. it was nice to finally walk and look around without seeing unfamiliar faces follow you. "thank you so much, izuku! you saved me. really."

he smilled at you, "it's nothing! i'd do anything for (y/n)." izuku froze at what he said and started chuckling anxiously, "i.. i didn't mean it like that! hahaha! but if you need anything, i, uhm, i'd always be glad to help." you stared at him and said, "me too, izuku. i'd always be glad to help you! you can come to me everytime you need something." he blushed at what you said.

"FUCKING IDIOTS JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY! I'M TIRED OF HEARING BOTH YOUR SHIT! CONFESS TO EACH OTHER GODDAMNIT!" "oi bakugo. that's not how to do it." "SHUT UP SHITTY HAIR!" "bakugo, you're too noisy." "YOU HALF AND HALF BASTARD I'M TIRED OF YOU TOO!"

izuku coughed tensely, "(y/n), can i talk to you outside? i just need to tell you something." you nodded, "of course!" you both stood up and left the table of wild animals.

when the two of you got outside, izuku's hands were obviously shaking so without a thought, you held it. "are you okay?" "I AM... i am." "why are you acting like this? did something happen?" you asked worriedly.

"no, everything's fine. i just.. i don't know how it started but i just woke up one day thinking how i'd love you to be mine. i want to walk you to school, i want to tell everyone i'm your boyfriend, i want to kiss you good night. haha, is it to much to ask, (y/n)? i like you a lot." he told you that nervously, the boy was shaking and sweating.

"i can't believe it... izuku, i like you too. oh god, are you serious?" "i am, haha! i didn't know you feel the same. i'm really happy!" "i didn't know you feel the same too! half of our classmates knew that i like you. katsuki's just too noisy. he literally told everyone when you did extra training." "(y/n).. kacchan also knows about my feelings for you! he told todoroki and kirishima. is that why he's so persistent in getting us together?" "i don't know. that's just how he is."

you both were awkward as fuck but izuku asked if you'd like to date for real and you said yes.

when you came back to the table, it was bakugo who spoke first, "are you idiots finally together?" you replied to him with a middle finger which aggravated the blondie, "YOU FUCKER!"

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herstarburststories · 4 years

Text

The devil at your door

Kinktober day 3: Demon

Suptober day 3: Demonic

Pairing: Demon!Dean x reader

A/N: This one goes for @holylulusworld's 10k celebration, my trope was Lovers to Enemies. Congrats again, hon! And this is also my piece for @hardcoresupernatural 's Halloween challenge with the prompt: I'm not scared of you.

@deanmonandnegansbitch's asked: Deanmon x Reader, he realizes no one could tame the marks hunger like she did. And yet he lost her by sticking his dick in other women

Warnings: dirty talk, mentions of boob fucking, hints of dark sexual, angst if you squint, teasing

CATCH UP KINKTOBER: Day 1 / Day 2

Spending his whole life in imaginary chains had frustrated Dean Winchester more than he was aware of. He’d always done what his dad taught him; kept himself from what he wanted in order to be the good soldier — the hero — even if it was against his own desires.

Dean saved the world once or twice and didn't get a thank you, a break long enough to relax or even visit the beach for the first time. No, hunters were never kids. Hunters never had time for fun. Hunters were made to be hunting. He always found himself fighting winless battles and ending up drowned in whiskey and self-pity.

Now it was all gone. His old persona never had time to be human, so losing that side of him wasn't a big deal. If anything, he felt better now. Whatever his green eyes wanted, Dean would go and get it.

No barbed ward could contain a demon, much less the Knight.

At first, it was funny. Messing around with Crowley, fucking some good, new pussies after tasting only yours, and causing destruction whenever he felt like it.

Then the thrill expired. Honestly, the Winchester pictured it would last longer. Crowley started bitching around like a whiny little man and the new girls no longer could satisfy him — that is, if they ever did. Dean was pretty sure he liked them so much because the cat and mouse play of finding a new toy, but at some point, the cat gets enough of the foreplay and wants to eat the prey. They were so boring in all their humanly forms: they didn't have his stamina, they didn’t know his sweet spots, and they didn’t enjoy all the mischievous things he wanted to do.

Only painting his knuckles with an aleatory idiot's blood could get a real smile out of him these days. Nonetheless, even throwing punches gets exhausting when they stop fighting back.

Where was the fun of being free?

It clicked him like one of the worst sounds of tortured souls screams; you.

You used to be the wild in Dean's heart during hunter days. You knew all the bad things he wanted to do, and you moaned in pleasure through them. You knew his body and yours like religion and shamelessly worshipped them.

When he finds himself at your door after leaving a woman who just wanted some vanilla sex in a cheap motel, it shouldn't have been a surprise. At least, it's not in his uniquely demonic brand of rationality. As you open the door, the look on your face tells him you agree with that.

Or so his deranged mind said.

You crossed your arms, the angle exposing your cleavage more as you leaned against the rose-colored door that he helped you paint months ago.

Dean used to think this little apple pie life was so savage, something out of his reach that he’d only get to touch in case of a miracle, like caressing the fire only to get a feel for the burn. Now he can't help but scrunch up his nose, disgusted by domestic, urban pleasures.

“What do you want, Dean?” You looked him up and down, a humorless smile on your face. “Got tired of fucking everyone with a pair of boobs?”

“I'm more interested in your boobs, sweetheart.” Dean isn't put off by your sarcasm, countering with the same flirty tone that used to get you riled up all the time.

Isn't the past such a beautiful memory?

“Go find someone your species, Winchester.” You rolled your eyes and pulled away, pushing the door closed before Dean's foot interrupted you.

He faked a pout. “Wow. That's racist, Y/N. This demon’s got feelings, you know?”

His childish attitude heats your system. Only Dean, demon or not, could push your buttons and get on your nerves in a matter of seconds. You pushed the pink door fully open with enough strength to make it slam against the wall with a loud crack. Dean doesn't look affected, though. You furiously glare at his lopsided grin.

“Do you also have a brain? I told you to leave. Get lost.”

“Come on, baby girl. I know you miss my cock. What about a night to remember?”

Believing he was the man you once loved was getting harder with every word he said. Your body seemed to recognize him easier, aching for him like some kind of spell. All you had after Dean Winchester left was a longing body and fury.

“Do you really think I'm gonna let you in my house for a quick fuck like I'm one of your one night stands?”

Dean appeared to be considering it for a moment, eyes focused on anything but you. His lips pursed before he glanced at you with a malicious beam. “Yes. You always said I was the best sex you ever had. Why not get a bit of it? You already know you won't regret that, sweetheart.”

You studied him, picturing what would bring a man who ran away back to what used to be his home. Dean had left as soon as he became a demon, the only trace of his existence being a note addressed to Sam and pieces of your heart. When you and Sammy finally found the eldest Winchester, he made was certain to make sure that you were aware of his very active sex life. He’d tacked on that he'd kill Sam and you both if you tried to save him.

You let him run like water after this. The Winchesters might have that wondrous codependency, but you didn't need something like that in your life. Especially not with a demonic cheater and murder.

Your eyes were too wide to ignore the warning signs now. Yet, that didn't answer why he was in your doorway. If he wanted to be saved, he'd go for Sam and call you from there. If he wanted to kill you, he wouldn't spend time talking about fond memories. He didn't look like a lost puppy looking for shelter either. So, what the fuck was this green-eyed devil doing here?

Quietude thickened while you noticed Dean not seeming to notice your silence, his eyes too busy observing your breasts. Your Dean Winchester was always a boob man, and he was looking like he'd fuck your titties on your porch for all your neighbors to see. It certainly wouldn't be yours and his first time with public sex. Still, that wasn't the point: he was here, hair longer than usual and cock clearly starting to awaken in his jeans…

Because he had missed you.

You chortled in dismay, unable to discern whether he was kidding or not despite the bulge in his pants, and that glimmer in his eyes already confirmed your suspicions. You knew him.

The realization almost cheered up your soul. Your reasoning stopped you from collecting hopes about that demoniac form of a man. Dean was here for carnal desire, not love. He had sex with other women while you spent sleepless nights crying into his old shirts. He broke you as the monster that he was — he deserved to suffer.

You didn't care if your heart would be a little more broken, or you pussy a bit needier after that.

“You missed fucking me, Dean? Missed my tight pussy squeezing your cock? Maybe my mouth on it? Or how you got it between my boobs? Did you miss how I taste?” You took a step closer to him, making Dean lift his glare to your face again.

He wore a cocky smirk as he answered, “Not as much as you missed me.”

Dean was right. Your body cried for him, and so did your soul. Who fucking cares? He didn't before, and you would not now.

“Liar.” The word rolled letter by letter off of your tongue. “I can take care of myself, even call a friend to do that, but you came back just because you can't forget how eating my pussy like a fucking feast feels like. Can you, sweetheart?”

You used that stupid nickname that he often gave people. You were very aware that it would irritate him, as it was laced with the implication of another man putting his hands on you.

Dean quickly grabbed your waist tightly, pulling you closer to him. He groaned. It was that fucking sound he made when something truly made him furious, and you knew your panties were gone. His eyes flashed into darkness that replaced his glistening greens, and for some calamitous reason, that turned you on.

“You better not have let anyone fuck what's mine, Y/N. I'd rip his throat in front of you and fuck you right next to his body,” he spits out jealously. His posture radiated that usual, alpha-esque tenseness that tumbled you two into angry, possessive sex so many times before.

“So jealous. I loved to tease you only to get you rough on me. Throwing me against the wall, going so hard inside my pussy that the bed broke, holding me hard enough to leave marks. You wanted for my bruises too, right? How I'd scratch your back, bite your collarbone, ruin your neck for everyone to see you were mine, but I guess what you really liked about me was that I was as hungry for you as you were for me. I would’ve let you do anything to my body, and I did. Because I wasn’t scared of you, Dean, and I’m not scared of you now either.” The way your arms compulsively wrapped around his neck made you wonder if you really wanted to strangle him or pull him closer. You could smell his manly cologne mixed with sulfur. It shouldn't make you want him more. Your knees shouldn't be begging to kneel for him and suck his cock. Be stronger. “You could come in, throw my clothes away and fuck my boobs with your dick instead of your eyes. Hurt me good enough to make me ask for more. But you know what?”

“Mm?” Dean's reply came in a hum as you pressed your hips against his, causing his clothed cock to rub on your belly. It was a tiny bit of relief — finally. He missed this so much: he couldn't wait to slip into your tight pussy.

“You won't.” Your lips brushed against his before you pulled away. His hands left your body from his surprise at your words. A wry smirk was wrung from your lips despite your wet pussy. “You stuck your dick into other women as soon as you became… whatever this is.” You scoffed, pointing at him with a feigned disgust in your eyes that you knew your body disagreed with. “Go have fun with your hand, Dean.”

A light rose painted door was ultimately closed in his face.

Leave a comment and reblog. Feedback is magic! Check my day 1&2 of kinktober and my masterlist ♡

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KINKTOBER TAGLIST: @psych0crybaby (NEW&OPEN)

WANNA BE TAGGED? SEND ME AN ASK OR DM.

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cyndecreativity · 3 years

Text

FFVI - Deceit

Possible spoilers for FFVI - Set after The End.

---

Sabin shivered as the pub’s door shut out the cold behind him. A warm fire beckoned him from the left, but the bartender called from his right. He came for a purpose. He nodded to the barman as he shucked off his jacket and made his way across the room. Only a few customers littered the tables, too early in the day for drinking. As Sabin passed, he winced at the scent of one particularly miserable looking man. The bartender pulled a face for a short moment, though Sabin could not be sure if the target were him or the drunk.

“Afternoon, good sir.” Sabin climbed into a barstool and rested his jacket over the stool beside him.

“What can I get for ya?” Despite the stereotype, the man simply waited with his hands on the counter behind the bar.

Sabin glanced at the wall of liquor behind him. He’d never been one to indulge too much, especially not in alcohol. But he had a purpose. What would his brother do in this situation?

The bartender tilted his head, impatient. “Ah, do you have any wines?”

The man chuckled and shook his head. “Only sell those to my VIP clients. Unless you’re looking to spend?”

Sabin barely contained his frustration. He sighed sharply and tilted his head. “How much?”

Thick, greying eyebrows lowered as the man assessed Sabin. He leaned over the bar, glanced at the jacket, and straightened up. “Got a few options for ya. What’re you lookin’ for?”

Sabin closed his eyes. Goddess grant me strength. “Actually, I was looking for one particular gi-… bottle? Goes by- It’s called Nova?”

The bartender laughed openly, a sardonic guffaw, if it were possible. “That’s not available until tonight, young’n.”

Sabin rubbed his eyes, a heavy frustrated sigh escaping him. “How much to make it available now?”

A hand disappeared into the man’s salt and pepper beard. The curly hairs shifted and moved as he pondered. Sabin arched an angry brow. “40,000 Gil.”

“Fourty-!” Sabin hissed his surprise. He came here for a purpose. “Fine.” He fished out his wallet and began to rummage for the largest Gil bills.

The bartender raised his eyebrows. He apparently expected to deter the beefy man. Excitement took over as he waited for Sabin to find all the money to slap on the bar. “Upstairs, last door on the left.”

Sabin nodded with a disingenuous smile. How his brother had afforded this… service boggled him.

---

She groaned at her reflection. The makeup she needed to cover up her scars had gotten rarer as the world disintegrated outside. She might have to return to her old life if this kept up. Most clients didn’t care for her rugged look. A pain tugged at her chest, but she picked up the eyeliner pencil. He’s gone.

A knock startled her. Gemma knew her schedule. She shouldn’t have a knock this early. “Good morning! You might have the wrong room. Lenore is across the hall.”

She heard a few steps at the door, the man turning in place, and then he knocked again. “Sorry to bother you so early?” She rolled her eyes. “This is Miss Nova, correct?”

She sighed from her position in the closet attached to the room. “Yes, it is.”

The door to the room opened. She dropped her head with a heavy sigh.

The boots sounded much heavier than she expected. “Good. I’ve actually come to see you, miss.”

A memory stirred and her heart fluttered. He’s gone. She swallowed, her breath tremulous, and pushed the closet door, the weight of her clothes keeping it open just a crack. “Well, I’m not even indecent, so perhaps you could wait in there?”

A heavy sigh brought the sound of boots to the closet door. “Miss, please, I’m in a bit of a hurry-“

He pushed the door to the closet open. She pressed her lips together for a moment, her true frustration before she slapped on her salacious smirk.

The man squealed, his arms flung upward, his jacket obscuring her view. “I’m sorry!” He yanked the closet door closed, his large jacket swept into the closet with her.

She looked down to herself. She hadn’t yet been able to get her makeup on, but any normal man might find her enticing in her simple bra and panty. Her eyes closed. A virgin?

In her room, she heard the heavy boots pacing for a moment, then the rhythmic taps of running in place, or maybe martial arts? He grunted a few times. Perhaps to calm himself. If he had gotten this far, he had to have paid. Her eyes fell to his large jacket.

“That’s quite all right.” She scooped up the jacket and turned it around. A patch on one arm looked familiar, though she couldn’t quite place it. “Seeing as you’re in such a hurry.” She pulled the large man’s jacket around herself. “I suppose we should get started.”

She opened the closet door, the jacket draped around herself to reveal the slip of her flesh between the buttons. She raised her arm along the edge of the door, her head tilted to reveal her neck around the collar. Broad shoulders met her, a purplish tank tucked into white pants, tucked into a pair of boots. Ashy blonde hair stirred another memory, more pain in her chest, but she smirked in an effort to hide it. He turned arouned.

“I’ll be whate-“ All attempts to maintain her composure failed.

A familiar face, the same but somehow different, turned around to her. Blue eyes roamed over her atop crimson cheeks. Her arm dropped, her brow furrowed, as he rubbed a hand over his cropped hair to his ponytail, a slight little rat tail sticking out of the back of his head. He sighed and turned away, the big, meaty arm blocking her view of his facial features.

“I’m sorry, Miss Nova, there seems to be a misunderstanding here. I’m not… here for… the wine?” His eyes darted to her a few times as he spoke around his arm.

She pulled his jacket tight around her mostly naked body. Did he not remember her? Did he have amnesia again? “Then what are you here for?”

He cleared his throat, an attempt to calm himself. “I, uh…” His arm dropped. She studied his jawline. The same, but different. “I heard that you have a ticket to South Figaro. Is that right?”

The question threw her. She furrowed her brow. She had acquired that ticket as a gift from Gemma for her birthday. She never understood why he exchanged her birthday pay for that ticket, she’d never expressed an interest in it before, but she held onto it. She assumed he meant it as a thank you for her service, as a ticket to freedom, should she desire it.

“Who told you that?”

He waved a dismissive hand and wandered over to sit on the edge of the bed. “That’s… not really important. But you do have one, correct?”

Her body covered and a topic at hand, he seemed to have gained some level of control over himself. “I might. Why are you asking? Did you want to buy it?”

His brow furrowed. “Buy it?”

She nodded and stepped into the room. “What’s it worth to you?”

“It’s worth a great deal to me.” Her chest tightened. He’s gone.

She sighed and dropped into a chair at the table in the room. “Well, I suppose I could sell it. But I won’t go under what the going rate is.”

He looked genuinely confused. “You’d sell it?” Not excited.

She frowned. “That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

He shook his head. “No! No. I was actually hoping to convince you to use it.”

Her brow lifted almost to her hairline. “Use it?” Her brow furrowed. “You want me to run away with you?”

He laughed and shook his head again. Her heart ached. “N-… Maybe? It’s a bit complicated.”

She set her jaw. “Or maybe you’re hoping to save me?”

His lips mushed, his eyes searching for a proper response. “No. Not that.”

He sighed and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. She looked to his hands; a fighter’s hand, rough and red on the knuckles, meaty calloused fingers.

“There’s…” He looked to the window. His brow furrowed. “An opportunity.” He looked back to her, his brow set in conviction. “I’m opening a bar in South Figaro and I need girls.”

She scoffed. “Not a very good liar.”

He sighed, found out. “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told the truth.” He rubbed his forehead. “Fine. I want you to go to Figaro and I can’t tell you why. How do I make this happen?"

Her breath hitched as fear gripped her throat. She glanced to his bulging arms, the tan lines for knuckles across his fingers, and focused on his face. She struggled to keep herself calm, controlled. “You want a companion for the end of the world and I’m the one you chose?”

Confusion twisted up his face for a moment. He leaned back, hand at the back of his neck again. She waited, tense.

He drew a slow, calming breath. “Yeah, sure. What’ll it take?”

She narrowed her eyes at his stubbled jawline. “I suppose you’ll have to make it worth Gemma’s while. I work for him.”

He took a deep breath and she felt the tension in his sigh, watched his muscles work under the skin, watched his shoulders roll. “If I do, you’ll get on that boat tomorrow?”

She stiffened. “Tomorrow? You expect me to drop-“ If he convinced Gemma, he’d be her new boss. She weighed her words, calmed herself; there was no way. “You know what, sure.”

He nodded and stood. “Good. Gemma is the bartender?”

“Owner.” She confirmed.

His face twisted in disgust and he stepped for the door. He looked down at his arm, then back to her. The flush rose on his cheeks again, the color spreading to his ears. “You can… hold onto the jacket.”

She chuckled a bit as he scurried out the door.

---

The sea air tasted different after the End of the World. The wind whipped her hair around, stronger than before. She remembered it all, a distant nostalgia of something she knew would never return. Maybe someday, far into the future, the grass might grow green again, the water a bright and clear blue, but not today.

A grunt and thunk behind her pulled her attention. The blonde man from yesterday dropped her two trunks onto the dock. Part of her admired the way his muscles flexed, impressed that he had the strength to carry both, but she swallowed her work and looked to his face. He’s gone.

“That’s all you have?” He rubbed his hands together.

She nodded and held out his knapsack. “Are you offering to buy me more?”

He laughed and accepted the bag with a grateful nod. “Just making sure you don’t forget anything.”

A strained smile found her face. “Not things I’ll be missing.”

He looked confused for a moment. A slight shrug found his broad shoulders and he ambled his way toward the dockworkers, presumably to ensure her items were loaded onto the boat. She looked back to Nikeah, over the dirty houses with incomplete roofs, to the bar that had come to be her home for years. From the door spilled a group of people that she couldn’t quite make out, but the vibrant colors of their clothing meant one thing. She grinned and hurried back up the dock toward town.

“Nova!” One of the girls waved feverishly as Nova jogged back up the dock.

The man turned to watch the proceedings for a moment, then turned back to the worker. “Not too long now, Miss Nova!”

The girls all tittered and waved at him. He flushed a crimson they could see from their distance and hurried up the plank onto the ship.

Lenore, a redhead, one of the younger girls, slapped Nova on the shoulder. “Lucky~! You found yourself a patron. And he’s so handsome!”

Nova laughed once. “And he still hasn’t told me his name.” The girls all looked to her. “Thank you for coming to see me off, ladies.”

“We’ll miss you, you know.” A brunette shouted from behind the pack.

Lenore nodded. “I just hope that Gemma can find someone half as good to replace you.”

Nova smiled. She didn’t mean it. She nodded. “You girls remember what I taught you, hm? And make sure Gemma hires a better bodyguard.”

Lenore reached out to grab her hand. “You won’t forget us, will you?”

Nova looked to her hand. “Of course not.”

“And if he has a brother or something-“

Nova scoffed and ripped her hand from Lenore’s. “Take care of yourselves, girls.”

She tromped back toward the boat. She really expected more. They all competed for men in the bar, but she expected a sisterhood during the light of day. Lenore had come recently, still held the competition above all else. She earned more than the other girls and liked to flaunt it. Perhaps it was for the best that Nova had a patron. She hated it. She preferred monster hunting.

“Nova!” The brunette rushed after her.

Nova stopped and turned around. “Nimsy…”

Nimsy panted slightly and held out a medium roll of canvas. Nova took it carefully. “What’s this?”

Nimsy looked back to the girls, all waving as Lenore stepped back toward the pub, waving to a few men on the streets. The men glanced between each other and started to argue.

Nova took the canvas and started to unroll it. Nimsy wrung her hands. “It’s… it’s just a little something I had. Thought it might… help you remember us. Remember your time here. And, ah…” She trailed off, nervous.

Nova unfurled the roll to a half-finished collection of portraits stitched to the larger canvas, each face in various states of artistry. The complete ones, the oldest girls at the bar since Nimsy’s arrival. Lenore barely had lines painted for her features. Nova smiled, her eyes crinkled up with the rise of her cheeks.

“Nimsy, I didn’t know you had the talent.” Nova’s eyes continued to scan the faces.

Nimsy shrugged. “Not much use now, world being what it is.”

Nova looked up to her a moment, then back to the faces. “Well, I suppose this means I’ll have to bring my patron back again.”

Nimsy straightened. “What? Why?”

Nova rolled the canvas up as carefully as she could. “Well, for starters, your face isn’t here.” Nimsy gasped. “But mostly because not all of them are finished.”

Nimsy giggled and nodded. “I look forward to it.”

Nova hugged the roll to herself.

---

The sway of the ship, however slight, upset his balance. He had trained on solid ground, in a mountain, for years. The slight rocking of a large vessel should be nothing to him. And yet the kicks never landed where they should.

“Oi! That mast isn’t your bloody dummy!” The helmsman held on hand on the large spoked wheel behind him.

Sabin chuckled and bowed slightly. “Sorry!”

A girlish chuckle found him from the door to the cabins. He looked to the woman, Nova, and frowned. “What?”

She shrugged. He much appreciated her fully clothed, though he questioned her choice of a dress for their travel. She had insisted, still under the assumption that he was to be her “Patron”, whatever that meant. He assumed it meant something like the man that paid for Relm’s paintings, but she didn’t paint. A heat rose on his cheeks and he rolled his eyes – he was far too old to be getting flustered.

“What are you chuckling about?” He moved away from her onto the larger area of the deck.

She followed after him. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just thought your enthusiasm was charming. I didn’t mean any offense.”

He growled and took up a stance in the middle of the empty deck. She stopped by the edge of the area. He waited for a moment, for her to say anything, for mockery or flirtations. When none came, he started through a training regimen.

He forgot her presence after a few punches. But he certainly did not have a clear mind. He attempted the kicks as best he could, but the rocking of the boat made it difficult. His master, Duncan, might’ve provided him with some manner of wisdom. He should visit him after this mess is concluded. Embarrassing, though, that he had managed to fight on airships and floating chunks of rock and high up in the clouds with a nihilistic God-creature, and the rock of a ship set him off balance.

“You’re very good.”

Her voice startled him. He looked back to her. “Thank you.”

She offered him a perky smile, meant to disarm him. It worked. He looked away quickly. “If I may.” She crossed the deck to him.

He stiffened at her approach. “You mean to teach me something?”

Her head pulled back, offended for a moment. She chuckled lightly and shook her head. “No, sir.” He clicked his teeth. “I don’t know how to address you.”

His brow lifted. His mouth dropped open and he pondered the events of the last day. Mirth bubbled up in his belly and he released a guffaw. “By the Gods, you’re right. I’m terribly sorry. I am Sabin R-“ He froze. Would she recognize the name?

She smiled, his laughter contagious, and waited. “Sabin?”

A slight noise escaped his throat. He nodded. “Yeah. Just Sabin.”

She placed a hand on his upper arm. He looked down to her, his eyes graced over her cleavage, and he felt the heat rise in his cheeks again. “It’s a pleasure, Sabin.”

He cleared his throat and backed away from her. “S-so how long have you had that ticket to Figaro, anyway?”

She furrowed her brow, confused, but retracted her hand. “Almost a year now, I suppose. Why do you ask?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. He had simply grasped at a different topic but answering her question might tip her off to his true purpose. He furrowed his brow. How to salvage. He drifted to the edge of the boat and gazed out at the dull, grey waters.

“Is that why you chose me? Out of all the other girls?” She moved to stand beside him.

He looked to her. “What do you mean?”

She set her jaw and looked to the ocean. “I’ve never been very popular, even before working at that brothel. Was I just the cheapest option?”

He looked at her. Her shoulders squared, her jaw set, her gaze steel. A fighter at heart. He overheard what she told the girls, “remember what I taught you”. A smile tugged at his lips. “Ah, no… To be honest, you weren’t cheap.” He looked back to the sea and crossed his arms. “Though, in my defense, I’m not entirely sure what’s expensive or not anymore.”

A chuckle exploded from her tight jaw. “Economy went to shambles since the… everything.”

He hummed agreement.

“How did you manage to make your money, then?” She glanced to him, relaxed for the moment.

He tensed up again. “Ah… inherited it.” Not untrue, not really.

She hummed. “I’m surprised there was anything left for you to inherit.” She stiffened. “Though I am grateful.” She turned and smiled to him, all brightness and charm.

A mask.

Sabin had seen the same mask on his brother ever since they met up again. The End of the World had taken something from all of them, but Edgar, despite all his reassurances, felt them stronger than most. The Returners had found each other, each finding closure or purpose in the World of Ruin, in defeating Kefka again. Edgar did his best to become a monarch that the world could rely upon, and Sabin did his best to assist, but he could feel the sadness on him.

Sabiin uncrossed his arms. “Do you have a dream?”

The mask fell away, replaced with confusion. “I’m sorry?”

A noise escaped his throat. “Sorry, I got lost in thought.” He cleared his throat. “Now that you’re… here, you can ask for anything you want.” He smiled. “So? What do you want?”

Her brow furrowed and she looked down, finger to her lips. “You know, I’ve never given it much thought. I just assumed I’d be serving you.” Her eyes roamed his torso. “What is that you want, Sabin?”

His eyes unfocused at her seductive tone. He took a deep breath and turned away. “You’re not going to be… serving me. Not… like that.” A sound escaped her and he gestured nervously. “Not that you aren’t a… lovely… woman. Just that… I’m- I’m- It’s not why-“

Her hand found his arm again and he found her giggling. “That’s all right! We can take it slow.”

Frustration and embarrassment clawed at his mind. “No, you don’t- There’s been a misunderstanding. I-“

Rain hit his arm. He jerked back as rain dropped on her. Sabin checked the skies. Not a terrible storm, but rainclouds all the same. He gestured toward the lower decks and Nova rushed away. He thanked the Gods for the interruption.

---

She found him on the deck again, practicing the martial arts with a mastery she could only pray for. Despite his constant protestations over their short time knowing each other, she wondered when he would give in to take what he paid for. Despite her best efforts, she found him attractive, though the pain in her heart reminded her constantly as to why. He’s Gone.

“Oh! Nova.” He stood from his landing out of some flip. His wide grin spread to tug at her lips.

She waved to him. “Sabin. You’re looking better today.”

His brow lifted, but the grin spread wider. “Thank you! I feel better.”

She chuckled. “Mental health is just as important and physical health, eh?”

Teeth spread through the grin and he nodded. “Yes, thank you for the talk last night!” He walked toward her and gestured to the strip of fabric on the barrels beside her. “Did it help you sleep as well?” He grabbed the water skin under the towel and drank thirstily.

He practically dwarfed her in size, not just from his massive bulk, but his height. She blushed and her chest tightened. She wanted to answer him that No, memories still haunted her, but she smiled. “Of course. Though I might’ve slept better with you beside me.”

He spilled water from the skin on himself. He coughed a bit and wiped his face.

She sighed. “Why did you hire me if not for that?”

He cleared his throat. His eyes searched around the ship, over the water, the sky. Searching for some kind of lie, she had learned. “I need… a partner.”

One brow lifted. “Why hire a prostitute?”

His cheeks flushed at the word. “I heard… you used to… be a monster hunter. Before the… everything.” He chugged more water from the skin.

Her eyes narrowed. “Then how about you teach me a few of those moves, so that I might serve you properly.”

He lowered the waterskin, cheeks full, ponderous. He swallowed the water and nodded. “You know what? Sure. I’m no Duncan, but I am a Ki-“ He froze. “Keeeeee-ind man.” He jammed the stopper into the waterskin a little too hard. “You should probably put on some trousers or something, though.”

She laughed, incredulous. “Truly?” He nodded. “Well… I’ll see if I can find any.”

---

He heaved a relieved sigh as he stepped foot on the dock. He had barely gotten used to the rocking of the ship, if ever, and longed for the steadiness of ground. Behind him, Nova smiled, a bit more genuinely than she had at the beginning of the adventure. He turned around and offered her a hand to help her down. She took it graciously.

He smiled as she released his hand. “Okay, you stay here while I go hire some Chocobos.”

She started. “Chocobos? Where are we going?”

He tilted his head as he walked backward. “On an adventure!”

She looked uneasy but settled for his answer as he drifted further away.

Thankfully the Chocobo Rental had a cart. He checked in town if there were any deliveries for the castle and loaded them up as well. Nova, for her part, attempted to take their new load in stride, but she appeared confused and uneasy.

“Are you all right?” Sabin tossed a sack of X-Potions into the cart, his attention focused on Nova on the bench at the front.

She inhaled slowly. “I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but… I assumed you lived here. Or that… we would stay here for a while, at least.”

He grinned and dropped a box of tents into the cart, the last of the items. “No, I don’t live here. Did you want to stay? I suppose we could postpone the trip a bit.”

Her forehead scrunched up, at odds with whatever duties she thought she had and her comfort. Sabin frowned. Her face pulled tighter. He sighed. “Or are you afraid of what’s out there?”

She spun on him, surprised. The first time he had unsettled her since their meeting. Her eyes roamed the ground as she searched for an answer. He hopped up onto the driving bench. “Hey, Nova, it’s okay. I’ll protect you.”

Her hands closed tightly, that melancholy back behind her eyes. He reminded her of something, someone.

“You became my patron to be a partner, right? I should be beside you if battle comes.” A deflection?

He chuckled. “Well, do you want to stop by the arsenal? Get you some weapons and armor? I never did ask what your preferred method of combat was.”

She tilted her head at him. She looked down to her dress, chosen for their arrival and assumed tourism or home visit he gathered, and nodded. “Armor might do me good.”

A new wardrobe purchased, Sabin flicked the reins on the Chocobos. They whistled and proceeded on their way, ambling along the path that Sabin directed them toward. Beside him, Nova pressed on various spots of her new armor, a new leather piece not yet broken in, and frowned. He chuckled.

It took several minutes of her adjusting the armor before she groaned and started to fiddle with her chakram. She had migrated to them in the store, then refused to purchase them, instead focused on the lances at the front. When pressed, she eventually admitted that combat actually terrified her. She preferred ranged weaponry, to keep her distance from the monster. And her throw had atrophied over the years. He had slapped her on the back, causing her to stumble, and reassured her that she was perfectly fine and normal. It might take time, but she could regain her strength if she wanted, maybe even surpass her old limits. She thanked him, still uneasy, until he dropped a Bard’s Hat on her. A chuckle escaped her and he thanked her for being open with him.

Their passage through the desert took longer than he had wanted, but he found her prowess in combat much higher than she led him to believe. Either she had been purposely clumsy during their training sessions on the ship or she remembered more than she thought. He greatly appreciated her backup, always ready with a Potion of some kind, and her skill with the Chakram took out many enemies that attempted to attack him over the corpse of their pack mate.

They made camp about another day’s travel from the castle. He set up the chocobos with food and water and settled in by the bundle of sticks that Nova had managed to find along the way. She gazed at them, her eyes lost to the melancholy again. Sabin moved to sit beside her. She jolted at his presence and tossed a few more on the bundle. He stretched a hand to cast Fire, but caught himself. Thankfully, Nova seemed lost in thought.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He moved to gather the flint and tinder.

She shook her head. “I don’t think even you have enough money for my thoughts.”

He paused before striking the materials together and looked to her. “That many, huh?”

The fire blazed to life in the reflection in her eyes. She blinked. “Missing someone, I guess.”

He tensed as he stored the rocks back in their pouch. His eyes roamed as he desperately thought of something to say.

“Oh! He’s… He’s gone. You have nothing to worry about.” She attempted a fake smile at him.

He settled back into the sand beside her. He knew. But he couldn’t let her know that. It had to be a surprise. For the both of them. He took a deep breath. “Wanna tell me about him anyway?”

Her brow furrowed. Her eyes closed. Her knees lifted toward her chin and she hugged her legs. “No. It wouldn’t be fair to you. I tell you about the men I’ve been with before and you get jealous and it poisons our relationship.” She looked to him, her eyes roaming his features again.

He felt the heat threaten his cheeks despite the warm desert air. He cleared his throat, startling one of the chocobos for a moment before being calmed by the other. He planted his feet on the sand and draped his arms over his knees. “You really should rein that in. I’ve told you already that I’m not interested in that with you.”

She looked away again. Silence filled the camp for several moments and she rested her forehead on her knees. He looked to her and rolled his eyes.

“I just… I don’t understand why you paid for me.” Her voice escaped quietly, meekly, through her tangle of limbs.

He reached over to slap a hand on her shoulder. “It’ll become clear tomorrow, I promise.”

---

Everything packed up, they made their way further into the desert. Her new employer, her not-patron, kept her in the dark. He had warned her, before they started this journey together, that he couldn’t tell her why he needed her to use that ticket to Figaro, but she didn’t realize what that truly meant.

The journey forced her to confront old memories, memories that she had attempted to lock away. The way he laughed, or smiled, or the way he looked with his hair down the few times she caught him after a bath. He looked and sounded so much like him. He’s Gone! She had to remind herself constantly. But it became harder and harder for her to accept that when his ghost fought beside her.

At least he never used magic. One thing about him had been his use of magic. He lit the fire under the bathing tub, lit the fire in the pub, used wind or ice to snuff them out. He’d even cast a healing magic or two before, when one of the girls got hurt by a client. She tried not to remember the times he had used magic to punish those clients that got out of line. But Sabin, at least, only ever used his fists. Nothing like him.

“There it is.” Sabin flicked the reins.

Nova lifted her eyes and in the distance, through the haze of heat distortion, she made out a castle, wiggling high over the desert. Her heart jumped. She stood on the wagon, hand on Sabin’s shoulder, and blocked the sun with the other. Sure enough, the castle remained, clearer the closer they got. Sabin laughed and the chocobos whistled.

“We’re heading there!?” She wheeled on him.

“Yup!” He beamed with the distinct look of a man happy to be heading home.

Couldn’t be. She shook her head. “Figaro Castle?”

He nodded. “The one and only. You know it?”

Her chest tightened. Uneven sand jostled the wagon, upsetting her balance. She fell to the bench beside Sabin. “I knew someone that did.”

Several minutes passed in silence as the castle loomed directly before them. Too many thoughts ravaged her mind to process any single one. Finally, she settled on one. “Why are we going there?”

His eyes roamed, his tell. He eventually gestured to the cargo. “Making a delivery.” He left it at that, a simple not-lie.

She sneered. “You’re still not a good liar.”

He chuckled nervously. “What! You think all these crates and barrels of stuff are for us?”

She leaned forward, chin on hand, elbow on knee. “No.”

Before her mind could process another question out, they made it to the castle.

“Ah! Sir, you’re back!” The guards jogged from the entrance to meet the chocobo and her not-patron respectively.

Sabin nodded and handed the reins to the guard. “Got some supplies from South Figaro that need unloading. Rented the ‘bos and the cart, so they’ll need to be returned. Any idea where Wellager is?”

The men moved to follow Sabin’s orders. “He should be in his office, sir. But you can never tell these days.”

Sabin jumped down from the cart and offered a hand to Nova. The guards paid her little mind. She took his hand and hopped down beside him. “Wellager?”

Sabin nodded and gestured for her to follow him. “Yeah, he’ll want to check in with me.”

Overloaded with confusion, she followed Sabin absently into the castle. She scanned her surroundings, not entirely taking what she saw, and dodged around random servants, guards, and technicians. Machines whirred in every exposed bit of wall, filling the building with a hum. Sabin travelled the halls with familiarity.

“Ah! There you are, Wellager!” Sabin waved at a man in the hall.

The man looked up from a stack of papers, large rolls of canvas tucked until one arm, a bucket of tools from the other. “Hm?”

Sabin jogged forward. “Ah, this is the surprise I sent you a letter about.” He tilted his head in what could only be described as an intimidating gesture.

Wellager, not intimidated, understood the meaning behind his words and nodded. “O-of course, sir.” He looked directly to Nova. “His- He’s down below right now, though, working on the machinery.”

Sabin nodded. “Did you make up a room for her?”

The man nodded and tilted his head. “Well, let’s have a look at her, hm?”

He thrust his items into Sabin’s large arms and stepped toward her. She took in his appearance, now free of his load. A blue and yellow turban with a gold circlet adorned his head and a bit of fabric to protect his neck from the sun, fancy pauldrons of blue and yellow with gold accents held up a cape that covered a set of armor. She swallowed hard and bowed to the man, unsure of the protocol and why Sabin had such a close relationship with the man. But then again, he did have money; perhaps a merchant adventurer then?

“Well, at least she has manners. Come, stand.” The man started to circle her, clearly assessing her.

Nova watched the man circle until he moved out of sight. She looked back to Sabin. “Are you… selling me to him?”

The man pulled up beside her and looked to Sabin. “Pardon?”

Sabin laughed, dropping all the items that Wellager had handed him, and moved to grab her arm rather forcefully. “Nothing, Chancellor. Don’t listen to her. I think it’s about time we found my brother, don’t you think?”

Her brow furrowed as Sabin pushed her down the hall away from the Chancellor. Her eyes widened. “Chancellor!?”

Sabin shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

The Chancellor called after them and scooped up all the scattered items on the floor.

Having wended their way through the castle to meet with the Chancellor, Nova had no idea where Sabin directed her to at high speed. She merely moved at his prodding. “You’re hurting me.” He yanked his hand back with apologies and continued to direct her through a door and down a set of stairs.

The sound of machinery grew ever louder as they descended into the pits of the castle. Figaro Castle had been famous long before the End for its ability to disappear into the sand, but to see it up close awed her. And nearly deafened her. She tried to turn back to Sabin to ask something, anything, and he shook his head. Behind them, she made out the green and red cape of the Chancellor following close behind.

They emerged through a door to a room with a huge metal piston, unmoving, as a group of men worked on the surrounding machinery, huge metal masks covering their faces.

“Ah, here we are!” Sabin shouted, though the noise level in the room had diminished greatly.

Each man lifted their head to reveal a set of large gloves protecting them from a rod that created sparks. A few of the men looked between each other and back to the pair. One man in particular dropped his rod and stood. The others looked to him and to each other again. He frantically removed the gloves to reveal blue tunic sleeves. The same urgency led his hands to pull at the back of the mask even as he lifted the front and together he worked the large metal mask off his face.

His face.

Nova felt her heart clench, her throat go dry, as he stepped over his equipment even as he dropped it. He surged forward, hair a sweaty mess against his face, eyes wide and just as beautiful, jaw cleanly shaven, an apron over his front. Even through her teary eyes, she recognized this man.

“Gerad!” She barely forced the word out, her body quivering, unable to process what she saw.

He panted as he moved to stand before her. His hands lifted toward her, hovered over her features, as if unable to believe she existed either. Sabin moved away to stand by the wall, arms crossed. She could almost make out his smug smile.

“There you are!” The Chancellor burst through the door behind her.

That broke whatever spell paralyzed the two. Gerad straightened up and his features affixed into a mask she did not recognize. He smiled, bowed his head every so slightly, his posture completely stiff and formal. He flashed her a smile, one he intended to be charming. “My lady, the engine room is no place for one such as you-“

She slapped him. Though she struggled to contain them, tears crept down her cheeks. He’s not gone! He had used her, cared for her, betrayed her, left her. She assumed he had died in this castle when the Crimson Robbers returned with their loot. She never received another letter. She had mourned him. And here he stood, alive and well, performing maintenance on the castle!

Gerad stumbled back from the blow, his face turned away, shocked. She saw a new scar on his neck. The other workers stiffened as he stood there. Sabin merely chuckled. The Chancellor gasped and hurried into the room to drop his items, ready to perform whatever duty required on her.

She watched Gerad’s eyes dim, harden. He kept his face away, allowing his cheek to redden. “I suppose I deserved that.” His eyes turned to her. “Unless you have more?”

She set her jaw. “I have plenty more, you bastard.”

The Chancellor advanced on her. “That is quite enough of that, young lady!”

Gerad reacted quickly to grab the man’s pauldron. “No, Wellager.”

The Chancellor spun on him. “But, Your Majesty-“

“What!?” Nova felt her mind break. She focused on Gerad. “WHAT?”

He inhaled slowly. “I see we have much to discuss.” He gestured back toward where he had been working. “Wellager, if you please.”

The Chancellor sighed heavily, obviously displeased with this turn of events, and moved to fiddle with the equipment Gerad had been working with. For his part, Gerad removed the oiled leather apron and hung it on a hook by Sabin. He glared daggers at the man that shared his face. Nova furrowed her brow. He had called him brother.

“Wait.” She pointed to Sabin. “You’re his brother?”

Gerad looked back to her, then to Sabin. “What did you do?”

Sabin raised his hands defensively. “I only did what I thought best.”

Gerad’s expression hardened, all angles, and he frowned. “I’ll deal with you later.”

Sabin growled as Gerad turned away to her. He softened almost immediately, but she felt the his melancholy. Her chest tightened as she fought her desire to comfort him, her feelings for him, with her anger and frustration at his betrayal.

He extended a hand toward her, one around his back. Formal. Royal. “If you will accompany me, my lady.” He gestured his hand toward the door.

She waited on the other side of the door and watched as he turned back to the room of workers in their strange equipment. “Gentlemen, if you would continue without me.” They all jolted, flustered, and returned to their sparks.

Gerad closed the door and nodded to her. “Thank you for waiting. Follow me, if you please.”

He did not wait for a response as he continued up the stairs. She glared at his back, the unkempt sweaty hair, familiar in an entirely different way to Sabin’s. The color had changed from when she knew him, but she knew the style, the way it frayed. She recognized his broad shoulders, knew what they looked like under the indigo fabric. Part of her begged to touch him, to return to that time, to that bed. She set her jaw and followed him.

He nodded absently to a few people as they made their way through the castle. He did not stop for any of them, apologizing briefly as he made his way by. They all glanced to her in confusion, but promised to address him later. He kept a hand at the small of his back as he walked, his posture upright, stiff. Formal. Royal.

Eventually he led her through what she assumed to be the throne room. Large, empty, a red carpet through the center with two ostentatious stairs in the back. He strode across without hesitation and through the back. Presumably into the King’s Chambers.

#fanfic #my writing #long post #edgar figaro #edgar roni figaro #edgar #ffvi #ff6 #final fantasy #final fantasy 6 #final fantasy vi #fanfiction #oc #original character #edgar/oc #please enjoy

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ku-ro-kai · 3 years

Text

Lust at first bite

This was inspired by Trevor and sypha from the series Castlevania- personality wise so on

This is a one-shot★

Warning;fluff and angst,sexual tension, blood drinking, heat mentioned,missionary, squirting, praise kink, manipulation,aphrodisiacs, blood, multiple orgasm

He's been sneaking and stealing looks for too long, he's grown tired of it despite his small attempts at gifts he's been getting the nyphms to deliver or trying dispatch a plan in starting a conversation with you without being killed.

To his castle before the huntresses and witches hunt him down, touya was from a Royal bloodline of vampires. He's been going out every sunset in looks for his favorite huntress

She wasn’t like the other huntress’s in his eyes.

He had come to her in the middle of the night,he was looking for fresh virgin blood,he found you out on a night stroll.

He recognized you from flyers that he would come across when wondering in abandoned villages. He came to the conclusion you weren’t no ordinary boring huntress.

You were different,unique is what he would say, your family tree was dangerous to other creatures,coming from witches and huntsman.

(A month ago)

His father warned him about your family,beware of them, don’t never go by the (L/N) markings in the woods,every creature thought your family tree was killed off.

You were out getting fresh air,you couldn’t stand being in rooms with other huntresses and huntsmen, they envied your family,despite their hate for you,there was no escaping the headmasters.your family payed their debt years ago,why were they still inviting you to these silly meetings.

You heard a low groan from behind you,a annoyed sigh left your lips”At this time,show your face”.

Dabi thought you were some stuck up whore at first, “what if I don’t want too?”Gonna skin me and turn me into boots”

You turned around to face the unknown man ,he looked like a victim of fire,ebony hair that was spiked from front to back, blue eyes that sparkled like the ocean on a full moon,he was dressed down to toe in leather ,only a upside cross hanging from his neck,fingers covered in all different metallic silver rings, ones with diamonds,rubies and sapphires.

“Who exactly are you and how’d you get passed the barrier ?”

“You’re barrier is a piece of shit ,sorry darling I just don’t state my name to any stranger."

"It's like that with you vampires? Stuck up"

"Feisty, you huntsman look down on the rest of the world and expect everyone to get on their knees and praise you"

"You monsters have curses put on y'all,so you take your anger out on the huntresses and huntsman,since we hunt you down"

Dabi rubbed his chin, you weren't wrong,if anything he would do anything to take this curse off and have a normal body.

"You're a very stubborn human"

"You're one to talk"

A small chuckle came out, dabi was a man of many lies but he couldn't lie that you weren't an interesting huntress, maybe his favorite out of the ones he met in his life.

"I'll spare your life this time darling but if we come across again, there will be no mercy"

You never met a vampire like him before, he's cocky and comes with too much pride, A total prick.

"Same to you, just keep in mind that sneaking up to your prey comes with being completely silent"

You two parted ways that night and now he hasn't been able to get you off his mind

(Present)

He took you're words to heart, the sunset were his time to go see you.

Quietly hiding in the shadows, you were always out taking a stroll, did you not receive a good capture?

The headmasters have been keeping you stored away from missions,you were completely drowned out from all the drinks you spent at the tavern,only thing in that god forsaken castle was old people and moldy fruits.

You could proceed with skinning this annoyance of a vampire and receiving money

“Do you have nothing to do besides stalk me “

Dabi never understood how you could figure out how he was there,he was the best when it came to sneaking in the shadows,or so he thought.

“Your always walking around this area,I figured I’ll stop by”.

“You’ll be foolish to think I’ll believe that lie”

“Look my name is touya todoroki,first son to the King vampire Enji todoroki but refer to me as dabi for now “

That name was catching like wildfire when you were younger,it was a story of a little vampire boy playing by himself in the mountains near a peasant village ,his father made him go up there if he couldn’t make a flame change it’s color to blue.The boy was too careless with the way he would shoot his fires into trees ,as in result,he struck a branch, that caught half the village on fire ending with getting stuck under a large burning oak tree.Some say he hunted the woods looking in revenge for his father,others say he was in search of better body.

“I’m (name),how long have you’ve been living on your own since the forest fire “

“ for 210 years, it took months for my body to get used to staples"

You had guilt in your eyes,he always saw this in his victim's face when he would suck them dry,the stares he got from their cold,decaying corpse. He loved that look

"Does it hurt?"

"What do you think" he snapped.

"Hey no need to get rude" you looked at the full moon, maybe this prick of a vampire could help you with a drink "dabi wanna go out for a drink"

He looked you dead in the eye "with you? No thanks, trying to finesse me out of my money, I knew you huntresses weren't always good out if the bunch"

"I guess we are both liars than, well I'll just take my leave, if you wanna suck my blood I'll be at the blue soul lake"

You walked away into the forest

"Why that specific area- it's hunted by witches"

"Not the big bad vampire being scared of witches"

"Who the hell said I was scared, if anything I'm just concerned why that cursed part of the forest"

"That cursed place is my home"

Blue soul lake was wretched area, swarming with witches and witchcraft. The only thing is that place is good for is the glowing lake that only shines on a full moon.

"My father told about that place, used to be ritual when witches would bring kids, kill them, sacrifice them to whatever God you nut jobs believed in and kept the skulls and eyes for gross potions. What do y'all do now, pretend to be gypsies"

You chuckled at him "no we don't do anything out of that kind, I just live there because I love the way the lake shines at night and because I grew up there"

Dabi didn't understand why you would just invite a vampire to your house as if it's the normal, he could care less,long as he can be near you, you made him feel whole again, maybe because he hasn't gotten a load off in awhile, where you good at massages?, he could make you queen, give you children and regain his body back with your weird passed down powers

He wasn't thinking right, make you queen? Breed you? Spend the rest of eternity with you? He surely wasn't in love with some thorn in the side huntress,that's below him.

"Dabi why do wear the rings and what's with the silly name"

He got embarrassed, hiding his face “it’s not silly “

"It’s a little silly"

He turned back facing you,you’re warm smile brought him comfort

“The rings are from my mother, she gave all my siblings rings”

“Ah you royals always have the easy life ahead”

“You could say that , I’ll probably still have my body back if it weren’t for my father”

“I guess the stories were right”

“I hate him , I can’t stand to even look myself in the mirror when I remember I used to look like him”

Awkward silence was there for a while

“I could've easily snapped your neck when we first met"

"Why didn't you do it"

"You intrigued me"

"Not me catching your interest -what now you want me to be your queen"

"If if weren't for your cocky mouth,you could be heir to the throne of my queen"

"you like me?!"

"I'll kill where you stand"

You covered your smile with your cape.

"you didn't say no"

Dabi turned away to hide his blushing, you were a silly little thing with the ability to have him head over heels in love with you. You were just food to him now he has to deal with red swallowing his face and this shaking feelings in his chest.

You two reached your home-it wasn't too bad, A little snags and there, he could probably fix it with a little magic, too his disappointment you didn't have nothing crazy going on- it's cozy and warm

He picks up a picture "nice place you got here darling-a little sad there isn't hearts in jars and a shit load of strange plants"

"Are all vampires like this? Assuming all witch descent are into witchcraft"

"Must be the huntsman genes"

Dabi put the picture in his suit pocket, he continued walking around your house coming across from a family tree of pictures

"Dabi what's it like living like a vampire?”

“It’s quite fun,scaring frisky young ones comes with the job,sucking blood all night long is the dream,don’t have to worry about dying since I can live for centuries also the garlic shit is a myth"

You carry a bottle of holy water out "how mad would you be if I sprayed this on you"

"Try me"

After running, what seemed about an hour, you came to a stop leaving you panting on top of the stairs"you sly bastard" your clothes were tattered and scattered all around your house

Dabi covered a burned mark of you splashing him in holy water " just wanted to mark you as mine and only mine, what do you say doll? Wanna come back and live with me"

Dabi show case devilish smile was vacant , now a show of hostile in his face

“What if I come across that corner and bite that neck of yours (name)”

His voice was calm but his demeanor was sinister.you could see red gleaming in his eyes

You saw a flash of black,now you ended up upstairs in the middle of the hallway on your back with vampire in the crook of your neck ,his keen fangs edging on your vital

"...your the devil touya"

He licked a long stripe on your neck, now placing kisses on your jaw "if I'm the devil you must be the devil's woman huh" he let out a raspy chuckle, he lifted your thighs up" your something else you know that (name),Do you get off to me to trying to kill you " he moved to the side staring at the wet mark on your neck.

"Dabi why is it so hot" you tried to push him off you but he wouldn't budge

"Don't worry doll, the aphrodisiacs are doing that" dabi ran his hands around your waist"those huntsman have treated you so badly, don't you wanna get revenge"

"Yes... But"

Your body was burning in the inside, how did he get his hands on aphrodisiacs? Did he sneak something on his tongue

"Dabi-please" at this point you were begging to have some sort intimacy

He took your face in his hand "but what? Together we can be unstoppable, a powerful couple, rule over kingdoms although You would look better holding my children in that stomach of yours " he ripped your tattered clothes off with ease" all you gotta say is yes darling "

"Yes, fuck yes -please dabi"

His clothes were vacant, you felt something hard press against your outer lips, you begin grinding on to his cock

Your being such a needy bitch in heat" his length closing around your walls like a fitted glove,in such a slow manner ,now accompanied by him placing a hand on the bulge poking in your stomach”your such a good huntress doll, now your becoming my prize possession, mind to ravish every night and every day" he was half way in your pussy,groaning at how tight you are "for a pesky girl, your cunt is perfect".

Dabi got closer to the stained mark on your neck, placing hickes all over it. His thoughts were clouded with marking you as his,nobody can touch you with their filthy hands again .

He pressed his fingers against your throbbing clit, soft rubbing making you walls clench around his shaft.

He pulled out, letting out a deep grunt only to plunge himself with a hard thrust, his tip pushing against your womb.

You let out a groan feeling a sharp pain,his keen nails clawing at your waist, watching your blood pouring out on to floor. The pleasure mixed with the pain sending over the edge,he went a couple thrust before cumming releases a raspy moan,dabi took his fingers licking off your blood.

"You taste just as good too" you heard coming down from your high, dabi pulled out uncovering his seed soaking out, he put your legs over his shoulders "wait dabi" you felt his fangs graze your pearl "don't order me around (name)" you jolted when his two fingers went inside your sopping pussy

He pressed the flat of his tongue on your clit with his fingers working on sending you into another orgasm. The Flicking of his tongue and the curling on that gummy spot, sucking on your inner lips with a small pop.

You couldn't hold it, your juices spraying you and dabi face. "What a slut you are doll" he licked his lips watching you pass out from exhaustion

You woke up in room that didn't belong to you, dressed in a beautiful chemist,with a robe hanging off your shoulders .there was pain in the side of your neck, two swollen puncture holes. you had a aquamarine necklace and blood red ring in your hands,the sounds of the fire popping and cracking on the side of your chair. "dabi?" you called out,hearing steps coming into the room behind you.

"Yes doll" "where are we and what did you do to me" he went over to the fire place to throw in some more wood, a navy blue half buttoned down shirt with black tuxedo pants,he was holding a glass in his hand,the liquid in the cup was too murky to be wine "If I can recall you said yes to staying with me or were the drugs that powerful to have you say anything" you remember saying agreeing to staying with but that doesn't excuse the pain in your neck

"My neck?"

"I had to for the sake of you staying with me,if you continued remaining a human I would've"accidentally" took your blood"

"What about the huntress and huntsman looking for you!"

"I killed them, you were sleep for about a month, for the remaining time I put up warnings to stay away from the castle, would hate to have humans killing our children"

Thank you for reading💖, I will be taking a small break for a while after I post my headcannons

#dabi #dabi x you #stalker dabi #dabi x reader

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tbtssstuff · 4 years

Text

Back In Time || myg 3

Summary: While helping your boyfriend research his ancestry you find a very old looking book. Curiosity gets the best of you and you open it, a flash of light sucks you into a world you’d never seen before. Now with a man who looks exactly like your boyfriend you have to find a way home.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Time Traveler!au, Angst, Fluff

Word count: 4.3K

Warning: Smut implied, ANGST

Masterlist

AN: 🥺🥺🥺 I am so happy you guys are enjoying this so far. Tbh I think this is the best thing I’ve ever written. We may have maybe two or three chapters left and I’m not ready for it. I’ve got other stories to work on after, but idk which one to start. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. ANYWAY! Here is chapter 3.

-TJ/ TacoAdmin 🌮

“Hey stupid get up.You were gone for a long time so I came to find you. What were you doing falling asleep in a strange room? Come on, Y/n, let’s go home.”

Your eyes snapped open and you shot straight up, expecting to see Yoongi and the rows of books in the library, but all you saw was a tiny room with a dresser.

You groaned, rubbing your face. “Just a dream.”

Why couldn’t have this been the dream? Why was being back in the library the dream?

Yoongi’s soft voice lulling you out of sleep, even though he was being rude by calling you stupid, he did it out of love. A love that you were starting to fear you would never be able to return to.

Tears stung your eyes at that fact. The fact that you may never see your Yoongi again. His sharp tongue, his passion for music, his gummy smile, the way he makes you laugh, his kisses, the night time cuddles, and so much more just gone.

Poof. Vanished. Up in the wind just like your hopes of going home.

“You’re awake. Good. Now we can... Wait are you crying?”

Yoongi moved from the door to the bed, sitting beside you. You could see the slight worry in his eyes and that just made you cry harder.

“I I’m so sorry.” You choke. “I just... I just...”

You didn’t know what you were trying to say. You wanted to tell Yoongi everything. About the library and the book. About how you were thrust into a world where the love of your life was with another woman. Everything, but nothing was coming out.

Your head was spinning and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. It was almost as if someone had put a 50 pound slab of concrete right on your chest and decided to stand on top of it, slowly pushing it further onto you.

Yoongi watched wide eyed. He wasn’t equipped to help you nor did he know how to calm you down. Whenever this happened to him, and thankfully it hasn’t happened in a while, Yoongi just kept to himself.

So he just let his body take over and pulled you into his arms, feeling you shake as you cried against his chest.

Yoongi held you, gently and warmly, it was a complete 180 from this morning when he pushed you for hugging him.

But he still did it anyway.

Yoongi was all you could focus on. The heat from his body, his natural smell, even the weight of his hands on you back.

Everything was just Yoongi.

After what felt like an eternity, which was probably only five minutes, your tears stopped, but neither of you moved. Yoongi held you tightly in his arms, chin resting on top of your head, not saying a word. What was he thinking?

You pull back a little to look up at him, but his arms still didn’t move. Even with dried tears on your cheeks, red eyes, and a flushed face Yoongi thought you were still the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. He’s thought that since he saw you in the marketplace.

Which made this all the more harder for him.

Especially when you reached up to cup his cheek in your hand and he instinctively leaned into your touch, scaring him to his core that you had this effect on him, but in the moment it felt good. Like he was being loved.

You smiled. “Thank you, Yoongi.”

Yoongi’s eyes snapped open and he quickly released you, jumping to his feet. He moved so quickly you’d think he was on fire.

He needed to find out who you were and if you were a spy, not holding you. So why did he miss the feel of you in his arms?

Yoongi cleared his throat. “Now that you’re calm, let’s talk. Who are you?”

Sighing, you let your hand drop back down to your lap, since it was still lingering in the air where you held Yoongi’s face, and looked him straight in the eyes.

“Well I can tell you my name is Y/n.” Yoongi nods. “But no matter what I say after that you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

“You really won’t, but okay.” Taking a deep breath, you prepared to lay it all on the table.

“I’m not from this world or time. I’m from the year 2020, which you never wanna see by the way, the world is basically on fire, and I was in this library helping my boyfriend Yoongi, not you Yoongi, my Yoongi, ah that doesn't make sense. Anyway! I was helping him do some research for his history paper. Well we were getting bupkis and he obviously hadn't slept for a good few days, which I tell him all the time isn’t good for him, but he never listens to me, so I told him to get some sleep while I went to get coffee and food. I ended up getting lost in the library and then found this spooky old back room, so like the dumb ass I am, I went to investigate it because it said ‘Ancient Korean Dynasties’. Might as well right? So when I get in there it’s super dark and I end up slipping on a flashlight, which was weird. Like why was it there in the first place? I turned it on and saw a red book with The Tyrant King; Agust D written on the spine. Even though I got an eerie feeling from the book, I opened it anyway. Suddenly there was this big white light and next thing I know I’m getting felt up by creeps and you save me.”

You placed your hand over your chest, trying to catch what little breath you had, before you even dared to glance up at Yoongi and you weren’t surprised with what you saw.

Yoongi stared back at you, eyes wide and full of disbelief. It looked like he was attempting to process what you, very quickly, said, but eventually you heard Yoongi scoff.

“Yeah you’re right,” Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest, “I don’t believe you. What do you mean ‘your Yoongi that isn’t me’? And a book that sucks people into some kind of alternate universe? That’s bullshit.”

You sigh. “Told you, but I promise it’s the truth. Things like that aren't something I could ever make up on my own. I’m not that kind of creative.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes at you, searching your entire face for the slightest hint of a lie, but he couldn’t find anything. Either you were an amazing liar or it was the honest to god truth. While he wanted to continue to be skeptical of you, Yoongi hadn’t seen any other reason not to trust you.

So he did.

“Okay.” Yoongi made his way closer to you again, but didn’t sit on the bed. He couldn’t risk being that close to you. Who was telling what he would do if he was once again under your spell.

“If what you are saying is true, which yeah seems way too crazy for anyone to make up, it sounds like a high level of magic that none of us here can help you with.”

Magic? Like the kind in fairy tales and movies? If that was the case where were you going to find someone that could perform that level of magic? What if you couldn’t? Would you be stuck here forever? You didn’t want to stay here. You wanted to go home to Yoongi and Min Holly.

“But there is someone I know of that could,” Yoongi stated, almost as if he could read your mind and was trying to comfort you somehow, “but the only problem is that he works for the king. Kim Namjoon is kept under lock and key because he is the most powerful warlock there is. So you would just have to stay here until we take that tyrant down and then we can find a way to send you home, okay?”

His small smile and soft eyes was enough to make you feel ten times better. Yoongi was going to help you go home and you wanted nothing more than to hug him. To thank him. To kiss him.

You held yourself back though as that was just the reflex you normally had whenever you saw Yoongi. You had to keep reminding yourself that this wasn’t your Yoongi.

“Well now that that is settled why don’t you get some sleep? You had an eventful day.”

You nodded, a yawn slipping past your lips. You hadn’t realized how tired you were until he had said something.

Picking up the thin blanket, you laid back down on the bed, snuggling up to the pillow, which smelled like Yoongi, and closed your eyes. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

Yoongi gave you one last glance before blowing out the candle by the bed and leaving the room. He looked around the main room noting that everyone had gone to bed by now, which made sense considering how late it was. Yoongi should probably turn in as well. Tomorrow was going to be filled with nothing but planning. Their time was drawing near.

Yoongi sighed and made his way across the room, pushing back the curtain that covered Yoona’s door, only to be surprised to find she was still awake.

Yoona was sitting on her bed, long dark hair freed from its usual ponytail, and in nothing but a pair of cotton panties and his shirt.

It was moments like this that Yoongi ever really let himself admire her beauty.

Her skin was pale and soft, only a few scars littered across her otherwise flawless body. The darkness of her hair contrasted with the soft glow of the candle, her eyes pierced him. Yoona smiled warmly up at him.

“I was worried that I would have to go in there again.”

Yoongi scoffed and moved to remove his boots and pants. He shucked off his jacket before placing it on the dresser and taking his shirt off as well. “Nothing to worry about, Yoona. Just an interrogation.”

Yoona didn’t believe it was ‘just an interrogation’ for a second. She had never seen Yoongi act this way before, so of course she felt threatened. He was her man and she wasn’t going to let some mystery girl waltz in and take him from her.

Yoona loved Yoongi more than anything in the entire world.

And she intended to make him remember that.

The moment Yoongi slipped under the covers, Yoona was on him. She kissed his lips slowly, running her nails down his chest, feeling his abs twitch, before kissing her way down his neck where she bit into his skin, surely leaving a mark.

Yoongi groaned and ran his fingers through her hair. “Really Yoona? Now?”

Yoona chuckled at his dry response though she could feel him start to harden against her leg. Yoongi never seemed enthusiastic about sex. She didn’t mind though. His body was always more honest than his words.

“Just sit back Yoongi,” Yoona purred as she straddled his lap, happy to feel him wrap his arms around her waist, “let me take care of my leader.”

Yoongi only hummed in response as Yoona did just that.

Over the next three days, you watched Yoongi and his team prepare for their attack. From looking at the layout of the palace to gathering the weapons they needed.

Everyone was super nice to you and even Taehyung had toned down on the flirting. Especially after Yoongi threatened to break his hand if he attempted to touch you again.

You had almost forgotten that you didn’t originally belong here.

Almost.

Yoona liked to remind you. Not by saying something, oh no, but by hanging on Yoongi every chance she got.

You had noticed her little love bites the first night. Yoona really liked to liter his neck with them. Which made you livid. Seeing marks on Yoongi that weren't yours just made your blood boil and she seemed to know it.

Every morning he would come out of their shared room with either new marks or the old ones were refreshed. You bit your tongue each time, trying not to say anything, but also trying not to cry.

Since the first night Yoongi has been nothing but kind to you. Once he figured out you weren’t some kind of spy and wasn't going to hinder his plans in any way, he figured he might as well get along with you until they could get you home.

Yoongi sighed, getting up from the operation table, before grabbing his jacket and putting it on. “Okay I have to go into the marketplace. There are a few things we need and then we are ready for our attack.”

“I’ll go with you.” Yoona instantly jumped up from her seat, reaching for her white leather jacket as well.

Yoongi stopped her with the wave of his hand. He really couldn’t stand how clingy she was being, which was saying something because she’s always been that way, so to have at least a couple hours without her sounded heavenly.

“No you stay here. I need you to make sure we have all the ammo we need. Y/n why don’t you come with me?”

“Me?”

“Her?!”

“Yes her.” Yoongi rolled his eyes before looking at you, smiling softly. “I’m sure you are tired of wearing the same clothes. We can see what the vendors are selling and get you something else to wear.”

Also if he had to see you walk around in his clothes any longer he may not be able to contain himself.

Yoongi had barely been holding off from touching you again. He could still feel the presence of you in his arms and he craved to feel it again.

The things you were doing to him.

You nod and grab your jacket as well, slipping it on before walking up to him. “Well let’s go.”

You could see Yoona huff out of the corner of your eye as Yoongi led you outside. The sun and heat hit you almost instantly. It was so intense that you wondered why Yoongi always insisted on putting on a jacket before leaving.

Once you were back on the main strip of the marketplace, you could really see how crowded it was.

When you first saw it you were so shaken up that you couldn't appreciate any of the shops. Which was a shame considering how much you loved to go window shopping with Yoongi back in your world.

“There are so many people.”

Yoongi just nods and starts in one direction, motioning you to follow him. “There are. So stay close, okay?

How did he expect you to stay close if he moved through the crowd fluently while you keep bumping into people. Finally having enough, you reach out and grasp the back of his jacket, clutching it tightly.

Yoongi paid you no mind as he continued to weave through the crowd, passing a butcher shop, and finally stopping at a clothing vendor.

There were different variations of shirts, pants, and a few traditional looking hanboks. The fabrics ranged from cotton to what looked almost like a denim material. No matter the material it all looked homemade, which was amazing to think that they sewed it all by themselves. You could never do that.

While you were admiring the clothes that sat on the table in front of you, you didn’t notice Yoongi watching you.

She looks so cute. Yoongi thought, smiling when you picked up one of the shirts and looked at it like it was one of the seven wonders of the world.

Why couldn’t he have met you sooner? Were you really from another world? Well with the feelings you evoked out of Yoongi, feelings he’s never felt before, you might as well be.

But what if Yoongi could get you to stay? Would you? Would you stay here with him?

“Yoongi look!” Your voice brought Yoongi out of his thoughts, your smile almost blinding him.

That was something to worry about in the future, but for now he was just going to enjoy his time with you.

After almost an hour of being out and about you were starting to get comfortable going through the crowd. So comfortable that you had eventually let go of Yoongi’s jacket and wandered ahead of him, but with multiple items of clothes in his arms, Yoongi lost sight of you pretty quickly.

Yoongi looked around to see if he could see you, but nothing.

And then he heard you scream.

Immediately Yoongi threw the clothes to the side, not really caring where they landed, and rushed through the crowd. Pushing person after person trying to catch up to you. Who ever decided to touch you was going to get such an ass kicking.

“Yoongi!”

Yoongi skidded to a stop in front of an alleyway where two huge palace guards were holding you.

One had your left arm while the other had your right, a hand clamped over your mouth. Your eyes were wide and filled with tears, the look of absolute terror. Yoongi’s blood boiled and all he saw was red.

“Let. Her. Go.” Yoongi growled, taking a step forward.

“She is under arrest. King’s orders.”

“I don’t give a FUCK!”

Yoongi was on the guards before they could even respond. His fist collides with one of their faces, the guard dropping his hold on you. With the distraction Yoongi tugged you out of the grip of the other guard and behind him.

Now that he was sure you were safe Yoongi held nothing back, beating the absolute shit out of the two guards.

You had only seen Yoongi this kind of mad once in your life and it honestly terrified you. The rage and pure hatred in his eyes was enough to scare you to the core.

Yoongi huffed over the bodies of the two guards, you could see their chests moving so you knew they were alive, and he wiped some blood off his face. Well tried to because all it did was smear on his cheek and the back of his hand.

You jumped a little as he started towards you. “I I’m fine Yoongi. T thank yo-“

Yoongi cut you off, pulling you tightly into his arms.

The smell of blood and his sweat filled your nose as he pressed you into his chest. You could hear how fast his heartbeat was and feel the slight tremble of his hands.

“Yoongi?”

“Stupid!” He shouted. “I thought I told you to stay close!”

You didn’t know what to say. All you did was wrap your arms around him and clutch your fingers into his jacket.

Yoongi stepped back a little and cupped your face in his hands, inspecting you for any injuries. Once he was satisfied that you were okay, Yoongi let out a sigh of relief, placing his forehead on yours.

“You can’t scare me like that, Y/n.”

“I’m sorry, Yoongi.”

You stared into each other's eyes. The amount of raw emotions in his eyes made you weak, like you were being drawn in by him. As if Yoongi could read your mind, he leaned down and kissed you.

Yoongi smiled against your lips when he felt you kiss him back. Your lips were soft and molded against his perfectly. Nothing could have ruined this moment.

Suddenly Yoona’s hurt face flashed through his mind and he quickly pulled away.

“I’m sorry I shouldn't have done that.”

“Then why did you?”

Yoongi thought about it for a moment. Why did he kiss you? There was just something about you that seemed to memorize him and make him lose all sense of rationality. You were unlike anybody he had ever met.

Yoongi sighed, taking your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. “I don’t know, but you do things to me, Y/n. Things that no one else has ever done to me. You make me crazy and I want to protect you.”

Your heart swelled thinking about his words. They were so sincere that of course you believed him.

“You mean it?”

“I would never lie to you.”

It was almost night time when you and Yoongi returned. It took a little while to calm down after the almost “kidnapping” and then a while longer to find the clothes Yoongi bought.

The moment you walked in Yoona was having a fit.

“What took you guys so long!!” She shrieked from her seat in the front room. She reminded you of those parents that wait for their kids to come home.

You could tell she wanted to say more, but was instantly distracted by the dried blood on Yoongi’s cheek and clothes and his bruised knuckles.

Yoona shot out of her seat, pushing you to the side, and inspected Yoongi. “Oh my god what happened to you?!”

Yoongi just shrugged and went to put the clothes in his room.

“This is all YOUR fault isn’t it?!” Yoona turned her glare to you, the flame in her eyes growing by the second. She grabbed your arm and yanked you so hard it felt like your arm was about to come off.

“Answer me!”

“You’re hurting me! Let go!” You tried to wiggle your arm out of her grasp, but that only caused her to sink her nails into your skin, leaving marks.

“I knew you were going to get Yoongi in trouble the moment you showed up,” Yoona seethes, “now look at him! Bloody and bruised!”

You finally snatched your arm from her grasp. “You think I don’t know that?! I know it was my fault what happened in the marketplace today.” You rubbed the marks on your arm that Yoona’s nails had left. “If only I had listened and stayed close to him.”

Yoona scoffed. “Or you could have just been taken away and none of us would have had to deal with you anymore. Yoongi was right about you, you are just a nuisance.”

“Yoona!”

Both of you turned to see Yoongi standing in the doorway, both bruised fists clutched at his side.

“That is enough.”

“But you said so yourself!” Yoona cried. She could see the anger in his eyes and while it did hurt, she wasn’t going to back down without a fight.

“Is this true Yoongi?”

“Y/n let me explain.”

“Oh my god it is.”

You turned on your heels and tried to leave, but Yoongi quickly caught your wrist.

“Y/n! Please hear me o-”

You yanked your arm out of his grasp. “You said you would never lie to me! You’ve been lying this entire time!”

Not being able to stand being there a moment longer, you turn and run out the front door, ignoring Yoongi when he calls out your name.

You ran and ran. Your lungs burn and your eyes stung from the tears that were falling freely from your eyes.

“Yoongi said you’re a nuisance”

Yoona’s words just kept replaying in your mind. Over and over again. You couldn’t seem to escape them, but what made it worse was Yoongi’s voice was starting to over power hers.

“You’re a nuisance. I can’t believe I ever saved you. You should have died.”

Even though he had never said those words to you, just imagining him saying it was more than enough to tear your heart in two.

After running for a while you were completely lost. You slowed down to look around, but it was so dark that you couldn’t make anything out.

Now that you were only walking and not running, the cold wind was catching up to you, goosebumps running up both of your arms.

It was cold, but where could you go? Certainly not back to Yoongi. Not after that.

Yoongi. You thought about him again. Everything seemed to be going so well with him. The hugs, the kind words, and that kiss.

But of course you were stupid enough to believe his words. He said he would never lie to you, but you were convinced that was a lie too. You knew that he wasn’t yours in this world and there was no way anything was going to happen between you… or was it?

You shook your head, oblivious to the palace guard that saw you walk by.

The guard came out of hiding and grabbed your shoulder. You turned and elbowed him in the face. There was no way you were going to be manhandled again today, but the guard was quick to rebuttal. He grabbed onto your jacket, ripping it off of you as he yanked you back.

You attempted to kick him in the leg, but before you could the guard raised his sword and hit you with the blunt end, knocking you out.

“The king is going to have my head for that.” The guard mumbles as he lifts your limp body off the ground and throws you over his shoulder. “But he did say by any means necessary.”

Shaking his head, the guard started in the direction of the royal palace.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Yoona!” Yoongi shouted at her. Yoona shrank back from the power of his voice.

“S she was getting in the way and besides what does it matter? You belong to me, Yoongi!” She shouted back suddenly getting a burst of bravery.

“I don't belong to anybody.” Yoongi hissed before running out to find you.

He searched the entire village, twice, but couldn’t find you anywhere. Yoongi was starting to fear something had happened to you.

“Y/n!” Yoongi called out, but soon spotted your jacket on the ground. He picked it up and noticed the amount of blood on the fabric.

Yoongi’s heart dropped as he came to realize that you were hurt and missing.

You were gone.

Tag List @mizz-kraziii @queen-of--roses @ugly-wall-flower @flowersgirl02 @sunshine-procrastinate @dulcaet @scorpiomoon @yoongiwillforgiveme @multifandomfantasychild @midaribaby @missingin4ction @gabbien @angiexyoung @thefangirlsoul @galaticmochi

#bts scenarios #bts x reader #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #daechwita #d2 #king!yoongi #rebel!yoongi #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts imagine #tbtsstuff #tacoadmin #Back In Time

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captainsassmanes · 4 years

Text

Just a Goodbye

My version for @pastelwitchling

“You’ve been an asshole lately. What’s going on?”

Michael froze with a fry to his lips, eyebrows knit together. “Nothing’s going on, asshole.” He tossed the fry at Max and they laughed. It had been a long road back, rebuilding their relationship but today, sitting together at the Crashdown, he felt content.

“Seriously though,” Max took a sip of his shake, eyes shifting over to watch Liz greet a new set of customers. “You’ve been more surly than usual. Snippy.”

Shrugging, Michael kept his eyes on his food. “I dunno. I guess I’ve been feeling, kind of, wound up?”

“Everything okay with Maria?”

Michael nodded, taking a bite of his burger and resisting the urge to spit it out. Everything tasted like nothing lately. “Yeah we’re fine.”

With a smirk, Max muttered, “romantic.”

The truth was something wasn’t sitting right anymore. The time he spent with Maria had always been quiet, no expectations, no fear, no nerves. He could just exist and laugh and breath. But lately it didn’t feel like enough.

“I’ve been wanting simple for a long time, you know? Someone not so tangled up in our extraterrestrial bullshit that they couldn’t just be with me. And Maria is perfect. I can just be myself. No pressure.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

Rolling his eyes, he stole Max’s shake and took a big gulp, ignoring the stink eye he got in return.

“Alex.”

“Alex?”

“Alex.”

“Why Alex? I thought you guys were friends?”

Michael scoffed, drawing designs in the green froth with the straw. “Can you just be friends with someone you love?”

“I’d never be able to be Liz’s friend after all this.” Michael looked up to witness Max’s dreamy gaze drift back to Liz who stuck her tongue out and winked back. “But I also can’t imagine not having her in my life so, I guess I don’t know…hey!”

Max wiped the milkshake Michael had flicked in his direction off his face.

“Thank you, Maxwell. Very helpful.”

“Well I don’t know! If you love Alex why the hell are you with Maria?”

“I just told you why!”

“You just told me why you decided to be with Maria in the first place. You didn’t explain why you’re still with her.”

“Oh, shut up, Deputy.”

They both chuckled and went back to their food, Michael mindlessly shoving one fry after another into his mouth while his mind raced. He thought he loved Maria; when they were alone, laughing and holding onto one another, he felt peaceful and was sure it was love. But in the rare moments he dared to compare it with his feelings for Alex…

“Write it down.”

Michael raised his eyebrows and looked around, confused. “Huh?”

“It’s how I coped when I loved Liz but couldn’t tell her. I wrote her love notes. Helped me deal for a while.”

Snorting, Michael said, “we’re not all Tolstoy, buddy.”

Tossing a fry at Michael’s forehead, Max muttered, “fuck off, I’m serious. Write him a note, explaining everything or apologizing or ending it or whatever you need.” He shrugged and took a bite of his burger. “I kept mine ‘cause, well, you know. But you could rip yours up or burn it, whatever dramatic choice you wanted to make.”

“You boys need anything else?”

“Yeah,” Michael smiled at Liz and rested his chin in his hand. “I’ve gotta know how you do it.”

She smiled and tilted her head, ripping their bill from her pad. “How I do what?”

“Deal with this cheesy motherfucker.”

**********

That night, he’d left the Pony a bit early, giving Maria a quick kiss and apologizing for not staying, offering some excuse about files to review or formulas to work on. He couldn’t even remember.

He sat in the airstream, crickets chirping loudly outside, with a tiny lamp illuminating the space. Bringing his knees to his chest, he rested his head against the cool aluminum and stared at the blank piece of paper, twirling his pen between his fingers.

Glancing towards the door, he remembered the first time he’d seen Alex in almost a decade, how beautiful he looked but the way he stood, obviously prepared for a battle. Michael grimaced when he remembered his words, a real Manes man.

How many times over the months, years, had he said the wrong thing? Made Alex feel small when he may have had the power to help him feel tall again. Crawling out of his too small bed, Michael opened up a box and pulled out his favorite photo. Alex looked so relaxed, even though he still carried too much weight for a seventeen-year-old kid. The years had only added to that pressure, made his shoulders slump a little more each day with the burden of this world and, at least, one other.

He kicked off his boots and shimmied out of his pants, crawling under the covers and grabbing the paper and pen once more, his favorite photo resting on the covers beside him.

********

It was a few days later that Max had shown up at the ass crack of dawn to pull Michael out of bed so they could surprise Isobel. He’d been doing that now and then, seemingly determined to make sure the three of them remained close, all feeling needed and loved.

Michael wasn’t complaining.

They’d picked up coffee and bagels from Bean Me Up and had a relaxing morning catching up and gossiping, enjoying the perfect weather.

“Did you end up taking my advice?” Max looked at Michael over his coffee once the inevitable subject of his romantic life was brought up.

Nodding, Michael sighed. “Yep. It wasn’t too bad if I do say so myself.”

“Fill me in please.” Isobel leaned back in her chair, long legs crossed and swinging playfully.

Michael pushed a hand through his hair and shook his head with a smile. “I guess I’m having a hard time letting Alex go? I’m happy with Maria but it feels like something changed.” He watched Isobel’s eyes soften and had to look away. “Our resident writer suggested I put pen to paper to move on.”

“Or not,” Max pushed Michael’s knee with his foot. “Could just help you process it all. Don’t have to make any final decisions.”

“Nah, I’m alright. I feel better about it already, I think.”

“He thinks,” Isobel smirked towards Max who nodded in agreement, eyebrows furrowed in false seriousness. “He thinks.”

“Ah, fuck you both.”

He laughed with his siblings as his heart sank.

********

Max dropped him off at the airstream a few hours later with the promise of a free beer at the Pony that night. He was surprised to find Maria sitting around the fire pit, eyes on a fire that sat extinguished.

“Hey. I didn’t know you were coming over.”

She nodded slowly; eyes fixed on his. “I lost my phone and thought it might be here.”

“Ah,” Michael said as he took the seat next to her. “You could have let yourself in, taken a look. You didn’t need to wait for me.”

“Oh, I didn’t.”

Something began to shift uncomfortably inside of Michael, realizing too slowly that something wasn’t quite right with Maria. “You okay?”

She smiled as tears welled in her eyes. “No, I’m not.”

Michael reached out for her, but she stood quickly and moved out of reach. He watched as she faced away from him, listened as she steadied her breath.

“A veteran move as you limp into frame, longing to be your crutch, I want to consume your pain.”

“Maria, wait- “

“So I loosen my belt, a familiar feeling, ten years later and my heart’s still reeling.”

“Maria, just stop and listen- “ but she continued, undeterred.

“Then you show up on my porch, floating down the stream, while I swim uphill, running out of steam.”

As Maria’s voice cracked, Michael held his head in his hands. He never meant for anyone to see what he wrote, let alone Maria. But there was something undeniable about hearing his words out loud. Something he couldn’t walk away from anymore.

“Lies upon lies, thighs upon thighs, of a woman’s touch but damn that guy.” He grimaced as Maria’s voice broke. She turned to face him, crumpled paper shaking in her delicate hands.

“The one who lifted my heaviest sighs with ease. Too much pride to beg; I’ll let my looks say please. So ignore my words, this is where I stand. You’re a pretty little liar, and I’m your man.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Michael’s heart ached at the look on Maria’s face and he wanted nothing more than to comfort her, to make that expression vanish.

“It’s just a poem, Maria.”

“For Alex.”

“It’s nothing. It’s a last goodbye.”

As a tear danced down her cheek, she shook her head. “You think that poem was a goodbye?”

Michael stood, legs feeling like jelly and out of his control. “I know it was. I wrote the damn thing.”

“When did you write it?”

He buried his hands in his pockets and stared at the sand covering his boots.

“Michael.”

“A couple days ago.”

Scoffing, she took the few steps to stand in front of him, taking hold of his face and forcing him to look at her. The paper in her hand left a small papercut on his cheek.

Her gaze was intense, making him feel naked, too exposed. He tried to pull away, but she just held on tighter. Michael felt his eyes fill, hands coming to her wrists in a silent plea.

“Fuck you, Michael.”

He nodded, finally able to avert his eyes. She dropped her hands and gently pressed the poem against his chest. He quickly covered her hand with his and their eyes met again, both crying and flayed open.

“I knew, Michael. I just kept hoping you’d grow to love me as much as you love him.”

Swallowing, Michael whispered, “I tried. I promise I tried.”

She nodded and leaned into his warmth, arms wrapping around one another and swaying slightly, a last dance in the quiet of the desert. Eventually, Maria pulled back and wiped her eyes, looking around at everything but Michael.

Clearing her throat, she took a step back and pulled her keys from her pocket. “Stay away from the Pony for a while, okay? I need time.”

He nodded and said, “yeah. Of course.”

She nodded in return and walked toward her truck, stopping with the door open and one foot inside.

“That,” she pointed at the paper in his hand, blowing gently with the breeze, “is not a goodbye. It’s a confession.”

Michael watched as she drove away, the dust clouding his view as she left.

He looked down at the paper, reading his poem through blurry eyes. Roughly wiping at his face, Michael carefully folded the paper and tucked it in his back pocket.

In something of a daze, Michael walked into the airstream, sitting on the edge of his bed with his phone in one hand, the photo in the other. He took a deep breath as he hit send, leg bouncing with nerves and a naïve sense of excitement as the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Alex. It’s Michael.”

“Hi. You okay?”

Michael smiled. “Yeah. I was just hoping you could come over. I wanna talk to you.”

His heart raced as Alex said nothing, the seconds ticking away with his pulse pounding in his ears.

“Uh, yeah, of course. What do you need?”

“You.”

#roswell new mexico #malex #malex fic #the poem fic #if rin asks she shall receive #poem belongs to Michael Vlamis #my fic

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unholyhelbig · 4 years

Text

The Scent of Fire | #HW202

Prompt: Unusual Familiars

Summary: When the witch trials hit the small town that Chloe Beale calls home, she turns to the only person she can think of; Her Familiar.

Read it on Ao3 here!

The scent of fire nipped at her lungs until they burned. Chloe swallowed the metallic taste in her mouth and stared at the cracked wooden floor. Some of it reflected the ash tracked by Father Aspen’s shoes. She tried to ignore the way they looked like faces screaming for the very mercy he preached about each Wednesday and again on Sunday before the sun had even risen to its highest point.

This fire smelled different.

Her mother pressed the only silk handkerchief she had against her lips to stifle what they were all too afraid to mention. It was her nice one, the royal blue one that had their family monogram stitched into the side. Her father brought it home from the city. He brought Chloe a snow globe that sat next to the oil lamp on her school desk.

Chloe wished she had one of her own, that she didn’t have to pretend she couldn’t smell it. The rest of the church sat in an odd silence while Father Aspen wiped his brow with the back of his hand. He smeared ash on his beaded skin.

She moved her own hand against the base of her nose but felt her mother’s razor-sharp nails dig into her thigh. He was scanning the crowd, clutching the podium. Chloe struggled to ignore the strangled sobbing of the woman in the front pew and the half-hearted attempt of her husband to quell it.

“Revelations 21:8 ” Father Aspen had breathed in too much smoke, his voice was gravelly “as for the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable, as for murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.”

The mother in the front row screamed out again, her cries muffled in pain. Chloe grimaced and turned her face to the side. Her own mother didn’t condemn her this time. Father Aspen was panting with exhaustion and a few around the room spurred his dark smile on.

“This town has been in the unknowing presence of Evil for far too long!” He shouted, calming the room “Miss Prescott is a clear example of what we do to the unholy in Barden. Let it be a warning to clear the filth from our streets and stir the rebellion from our children. Let it be a warning.”

Chloe dug the blade of the knife into the soft skin of the third potato that she had pulled from hard soil. The winter season was upon them, and her stomach clenched at the idea of a quality meal. It would be the last of the year.

It was just the two of them when her father traveled for work. Her mother had quickly closed the door to his study as they returned from church. She was penning him a letter now, she guessed, despite not much ink being left in the little vile. Barden had had its first real witch burning, and that was big news. It wouldn’t be long before it’s second.

“You could have done something to stop this,” She mumbled softly, taking a good chunk of hard skin away from the yellowed vegetable. “Isn’t that your job?”

She had felt the woman’s presence in the church, just beyond the stained windows as smoke coated the air. That scent of burnt flesh wicking into her Sunday clothes. Her familiar lurked and watched and worried like the rest of them.

Chloe heard her scoff “Puritan panic is nothing short of entertaining. Though, what happened to Abby is tragic. Your priest wants to make an example and he would have done it regardless.”

“What comes next?”

“The same thing that happened in Salem, I suppose. They’ll string them up like Christmas bulbs on a Douglas Fir.”

Chloe dropped the knife and let it clank against the cutting board loudly before turning quickly to face her familiar. She sat in one of the kitchen chairs, slumped back on its hind legs with her own feet crossed at the ankles. Beca had a smug look on her face. Chloe would have thrown the kitchen utensil if the demon wouldn’t find it amusing.

“Careful, Chloe, if your mother senses you slipping into madness, she’ll turn to her religion for help.”

She ignored the comment. “What if it’s I they make an example of next?”

She scrunched up her nose as if she were thinking, but perhaps she hadn’t been at all. “Tragic.”

Chloe Beale didn’t mean to fall into witchcraft, just as Abby Prescott hadn’t. A group of them gathered in the graveyard one night, the only one in town. Aubrey Posen had raided her father's stuff and found a book that none of them wanted to touch- but they had. After a few slices of the palm and magic words, they had fallen deep into a habit.

A rush of dark magic made Chloe feel alive. So she read on, she receipted more incantations by the light of oil and the cover of darkness. She had reached the back of Aubrey’s book and ended up with Beca.

“You were supposed to be of some use to me,” She growled under worn breath. “I haven’t yet called on you.”

“No take backs, I’m afraid. A demon can sense chaos from millenniums away. I knew that you needed help.”

“You fed off of the fear.”

“oh, that’s cruel. Maybe I genuinely want to help you, Chloe.” She said “Lay off the witchcraft for a while. I know the feeling of dark magic is intoxicating but if it cooks you like dear Abby then is it worth it?”

“I’ve thought of that.”

“And the verdict?”

Chloe ran her dirt-stained palms against her apron. “I can use it to my advantage instead.”

Beca let out a loud groan and placed all four legs of the chair back onto the dusty floor. The young girl in turn picked up her knife once more and made even cubes of the vegetable before dropping them into the broth that boiled above a lit fire. Witchcraft was no different from cooking- maybe with more consequences than a full stomach.

She heard the floor creak behind her and felt Beca’s hot touch on her hip. Her fingers burned hungrily through her cotton dress and apron. Chloe stopped her task and made her stance rigid. She focused on the iron pot hanging from a little hook on the wall. Her hand clenched the knife.

“Chloe, I am your familiar, whether you like it or not. Though I am here to serve you and patronize you, I ultimately have a say in your actions. After all, we share the same master.”

“I serve no one.”

Beca scoffed and withdrew her touch. It made Chloe turn once more. This time she was mere inches from her familiar. Her features were cat-like, long, and slim. Her eyes dawned the same brightness of a black feline wandering around the barn on the edge of their property. She hadn’t thought of the connection until now.

Beca smelled of ash. Not the same thickness as the particles from this morning before the service, but ash all the same. “Before my God, you served the one you worship every Sunday. That, we both know. The second you spoke those words in the land of the dead, you were bound.”

Beca placed her molten touch under Chloe’s chin, leading the girl's eyes up to hers. Her palms dug deep into the counter behind her and breath caught as if to fight off the scent of fire and old magic.

“Love, I am here to assist you in your ultimate immortality. You’re my master in this battle, but not in this raging war. In order for you to lead, you must not be burned at the stake. Do not abandon your practice or your patience, but don’t feed into it. Not for the next month.”

Chloe swallowed hard “And what of Aubrey?”

“Aubrey is not of my concern. The girl does seem intelligent enough to do the same. Neither of you shall speak of this. Abby was a great loss.” Beca moved her hand away and Chloe cleared her throat. She missed the touch sorely but turned back to her task, mind reeling.

She had moved on to peel another potato. She knew her skin was raw and angry where Beca's hand was. Her fingers trembled, wishing to soothe the ache. The door to her father’s study creaked open and she heard her mother’s footsteps. They stopped near the kitchen. There was a dark and labored silence.

“Chloe,” her mother croaked. She had been crying, her voice was scratchy. “Who were you speaking with?”

“No one, mother”

“I heard you speaking to someone.”

Her voice was accusatory, and more importantly, whatever cracks the ordeal had left this morning were filled abundantly with fear. Chloe lifted her stormy eyes from the task of a solid meal once more and focused her entire body on stilling her breath and her words.

Chloe let out a sharp sigh “I was receipting scripture, mama. The Prescott’s have been a part of this community for a long time. I was quite close with Abigail and I” She forced her voice to shatter like a mirror “I hope she’s found peace despite straying from the house of the Lord.”

Her mother scrutinized her for a long moment but seemed to believe the words eventually. Chloe grasped a ladle and spooned some of the mixture into two bowls. She placed them each on the table before purposely sitting in the chair that Beca had been. It was still warm.

After long moments of silence, she started shoveling spoonful’s of the stew into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully as if to avoid any type of conversation.

She felt the hasty touch of a long black tail curling around her ankles. Her lungs still hissed with the scent of burning flesh, and an even hotter touch.

#HW202 #hw2020 #Pitch Perfect Horror Week #beca mitchell #Chloe beale #Bechloe #Pitch Perfet #pitch perfect fanfiction #pitch perfect au #Prompt: Unusual Familiars

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scoundrels-in-love · 4 years

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82 and/or 70 for the writing prompts for days (if you please :)

Incredibly late, but here it is, finally. Continuing with my October’s theme of angst... “Looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while.” + “What are you afraid of?”

Also on AO3.

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It's been several hours since they arrived at Rayder's little cabin on the side of the Northern Mountains, but the wind and the rain has not let up, and the storm tolls even closer than before.

Brienne takes what little comfort she can in the crackling fire that slowly consumes what little firewood had been carried in by Rayder before his departure in spring and pieces of shabby furniture she had broken apart; she'll make sure to compensate him. Jaime had looked like he wanted to comment at that, but refrained, which must've been the testament of the pain he was in.

Not that he wasn't still running his mouth in moments of inspiration. “Looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while,” Jaime had said after they had stumbled in, pushed the busted door closed and barred it to the winds, and unsuccessfully tried to hail help from SAR command center or the rest of their team. Anyone, really.

His voice had had a sort of casualness to it, as if they had been chased under some roof by a sudden downpour and merely missed their bus. As if his right arm wasn't pressed to his chest at an awkward angle that belied its mangled, broken state. As if Sansa Stark wasn't a sobbing mess in Brienne's arms, hungry and hurt. As if Brienne didn't feel each thunder's roll like a wrecking ball beating an unsteady heartbeat against her composure.

Sansa is sleeping now, curled up and pale in the flickering light, every bit of a child that she really is. Brienne tries not to think of Arya who is very likely still out there, weathering this storm somewhere. Hopefully far away from Littlefinger, who Brienne would personally geld, if he wasn't already in police's custody.

Jaime swims in her field of vision, dragging a blanket with him. She hadn't even heard him shuffle through his 24-hour pack, between trying to ignore the storm and the gurgling, muddy stream of her thoughts. She feels bad, for not having helped.

"Since the kid's got yours, thought we could share mine," he speaks in a hushed voice, but he raises the blanket and shakes it a little, aluminized plastic rustling and makes Brienne immediately look over to where Sansa's sleeping. Doesn't seem she's stirred at all.

"No need to look so alarmed, Tarth. Couldn't shock your delicate sensibilities even if I wanted to. Just a good, old-fashioned cuddle for warmth."

She frowns, opens her mouth to rebuke, but lightning strikes so close she thinks it might've embedded itself in her spine, and freezes. Moments later, thunder bellows in a way that blows any thoughts out of her head.

"Don't you trust me?" Jaime asks, mistaking her silence for something else, and bringing her back to the present with the way he genuinely sounds hurt. Sansa still sleeps the sleep of an exhausted child and Brienne is suddenly almost envious. Except she isn't. She knows the weight of such sleep too well and…

Brienne tethers herself to this moment instead.

"I do," she tells Jaime, seriously, because she does. Despite the way he frustrates her, despite the way he knows how to cut her to the bone, despite the history that drips in his footprints all the way from King's Landing, she trusts him like any other member of her team. And it's never been misplaced, least of all today when he saved her at the expense of his own arm.

"You can't take that back when this little adventure's over," he announces, though still almost whispering, before sitting down next to her. She brings the blanket around them both before Jaime can even make an attempt, careful not to jostle his right arm. She's done the best she can for it and the ibuprofen should have kicked in by now, but it's a far cry from the actual medical help he requires.

Her heart is heavy, as if every bit of mud and rock and the fallen tree that had almost swept them away has turned into guilt manifestation and nestled in there, but Brienne's got no words to express it, so instead she pinches the edges of blanket together in front of them, so he doesn't have to hold them with his left.

She doesn't keep track of time, the only landmark in its vastness is the frequent and devastating lightning and thunder duet. At least she isn't thinking about the other stormy nights, at least she isn't being swept away by the other landslides of guilt that are always biding their time.

“Truth or dare?” Jaime suddenly speaks up, bumping his shoulder into hers as if it was some kind of inside joke of theirs. “Ah, but it's always the truth with you, Tarth, isn't it?"

Brienne glances at him with a scoff, only to be caught off-guard by the way he's looking at her. Piercing and focused, more than he should with the pain he's in, and searching for something. He has made a habit of it, somehow, looking at and through her, in a way that never matches the insincere charm he often bears.

"I’ll go first," he says, lips pale and stretched into a ghoul of the bright, infuriating smiles she's so used to. "So, tell me, what are you so afraid of?”

"I thought you were supposed to go first." Her lips are dry and she escapes their blanket wrap a little to reach for a water bottle set next to the radio in front of them. There's another lightning streak and she spills some of the water, with the way she squeezes the bottle.

She drinks, ignores the way he's still staring at her. "Yes, with the question. You're shaking like a leaf, tell me why."

"It's cold," she tries to brush him off, but it'd not be convincing even if she was a better liar. She's not. And Jaime knows it - knows her. But she won't answer, she can't, she might unravel if she tries. And so they sink in silence, at least between the two of them, once she cocoons them in the blanket again.

"Fine, I will answer it myself." There is both steel and an echo of a broken string in his quiet voice and she tenses, unsure of what to expect.

"I am afraid of wildfire. And the smell of flesh burning in it. Did you know Aerys loved it? Both, really. The screams, too." He is staring blankly into the fire, but she can tell he sees something else, something he's far too late to be saved from.

"I stopped him. I had to. And the courts agreed, self defense, even though..." he gives half-shrug. "It wasn't me I was scared for." Her hand covers his left, where it's digging into his pants' leg.

"But now, I can't look at it, not even in those big, historic blockbusters. Used to love them, now I have to look up if there's wildfire in it first. Even a trailer can make me shut halfway down." He laughs a little at that, derisive and tired and she doesn't know what to think, because it turns her opinion of him upside down and at the same time, it doesn't change anything. It's still him, maddening and beautiful with sharpness. Brave to the point of recklessness. Good, too.

Maybe Jaime won't think of her much less if she says her truth, too. At least it should distract him enough to lose that expectant, empty look. Like anything cruel she could dish out he will laugh off with 'heard already', while hoarding it close like a dagger collection held under his pillow. She knows how easy it is to cut hands on them constantly.

"The storm. I am afraid of storms.”

There is pause, for a derisive comment about her choice to be in SAR or her being an unlikely Stormlander, but it doesn't come. It's a small relief, almost the opposite. If he had said that, she wouldn't be propelled forward to drop the rest of the story at his feet.

"When I was 5, I wandered too far away from home. My brother had told me Just Maid was hidden somewhere on Tarth, most likely the cave system in the cliffs. And then the storm rolled in and I got stranded on an outcrop in one of the caves as it filled with water." She tries not to recall the piercing white through the darkness, the way the water had been sloshing almost at her feet and seemed to be teeming with shadows of beasts, the way each thunderclap threatened to collapse the ageless stone onto her body. The cold and the belief she's never been so alone in this world. Rather, that the world existed somewhere far beyond her reach.

It had only been the start of the nightmare.

"They found me two days later. But Galladon, who had been desperately looking for me... He had been caught in another cave quite like me, but he. He didn't make it out." She had been crying for her brother and father the moment she was pulled into the daylight, even before, but every adult hauling her toward the ambulance had been too busy telling her it'd be okay now.

They had been lying.

"I joined SAR thinking that maybe I could make a difference, that maybe I could prevent a night like that. My father had grayed in those days, thinking both of us dead." She almost hadn’t recognized him. It had felt like the world the people pulled her into wasn't the one she came from, like she was thrown into some other, cold reality that wasn't hers.

Sometimes, Brienne still feels like that. On days like these, on days she's hurt and afraid of the storm's wrath that rattles in her bones, like some doom-promising amulet. There's been so many, since then. The fireplace she's staring at blurs at the edges.

"And then the floods took Renly. Right before my eyes. I was too slow, too afraid of the storm. I failed him, I failed him, I failed." There are so many she has failed that she can't even begin to name the pressure in her chest now. She's crying now, the blurriness leaking down her cheeks in yet unrealized sobs, but her voice grows choked before it fades out.

"You did your best, Brienne. You did your best today, you pushed where others fell back, and we found her. We found her, Brienne. She is safe from the storm and she will make it home."

Lightning flashes beyond the window pane, swallowing everything in white, horrid light. They're always so insatiable, the storms, and today they almost took Jaime, too. Or her, but part of her expects it someday.

If it had taken him…

"And I know you did your best back then, you're just incapable of doing otherwise. It isn't your fault. Nature is a dick. We aren't gods. We just try to do what they're too nonchalant for."

It doesn't heal her, because nothing will in one swift and graceful touch (she might never, the best she can hope for is a scar), but it soothes her, the conviction in his tone. Jaime's always been blunt with her, he wouldn't coddle her now if he didn't think it true.

He wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer as she starts to sob. "But Galladon," Brienne manages to whisper into his neck through sobs, part of the twisted echo that no logic and therapy manages to silence.

"You were a child, for fuck's sake. I hope your father never blamed you for it, because if he did..." Jaime trails off, with intensity she can almost physically feel like heat. Maybe it's just because he's warm and despite the blankets, she hasn't felt not freezing since they left the base in the morning.

"No, never." It might have been easier if he did, like some of the townsfolk did (Roelle, her homeroom teacher, might as well have written 'disobedient little killer' in her journal, with the contempt she filled Brienne with.). Maybe if he didn't mourn so carefully around her, as if afraid that if he showed his hurt, he'd hurt her.

But she understands, she does. After all, for the same reasons, Brienne could never speak about the canyon of hurt and guilt in her heart, because how could she ask her father to comfort her, when he was in pain, too, and because of her?

"Good," Jaime tells her and lets her cry, seemingly understanding that no shushing can fix this broken dam, battered by too many different blows today.

Maybe she dozes off, maybe she just cries softly for so long that the only thing she can register anymore is the crackle of fire, but at some point, she snaps to the realization that there's no more thunder and white hatred dancing beyond the window.

Jaime's head is resting atop hers, so she must've fallen asleep, and there is a crick in her neck, so surely his, too, but he isn't aware just yet as his breathing is deep and even. She doesn't move to wake him up, he needs every moment of rest he can get.

It's not comfortable like this and yet it somehow is. She feels empty and almost light for it, instead of just floating down the stream like... Like something else than the first comparison on her mind. Brienne closes eyes again, allows the warmth to settle somewhere deep in her, anchored there with Jaime's inhales and exhales.

And then, the radio crackles to life. "Selmy to Tarth and Lannister, can you hear me? Over."

She untangles herself from the nest they've made somehow as fast as she can while being careful so that Jaime wouldn't fall over and hurt his arm. Her hands are shaking when she grabs the radio, though for different reasons now.

"Tarth here, with Lannister. In Rayder's cabin. We have Sansa Stark, safe, but with a sprained ankle. Lannister has sustained a severe arm injury, we will not be able to make it back on our own. Over." The relief rushes to her head with speed that makes her dizzy. She feels Jaime stirring behind her and she turns to look at him, smiling.

"Copy that. We are on our way. And just so you know, Arya Stark was brought in by Sandor Clegane a few hours ago. Over."

Brienne sags because that is better news than she could've hoped for and it's so unexpectedly much.

"You did it, Briene," Jaime tells her and his smile looks more familiar. But not quite the same. Warmer, somehow. The shift is almost imperceptible, but she's always been good at telling when winter sunrises become those of spring. And he calls her by her name still, with almost fondness, that settles somewhere in her chest like a golden chain with a little bell.

"We did it," Brienne corrects him. Then, she wills her legs to function once again and gives his good shoulder a gentle squeeze on her way to wake Sansa.

Soon, they will be home and it won't be quite like before, but maybe for once the storm will leave behind something kind, instead of taking and taking with it.

#braime #braime ff #jaime x brienne #my fic #rainy writes stuff #only a month late and been written for almost as long #but y'know #i hope you enjoy #here's to october aka month of angst #it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined #sent on a cloud #rainy rambles

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angelliev · 4 years

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Lover Boy - JJ Maybank x OC - Part One - Paradise on Earth

Word Count: 2K

Summary: Aria Prescott is new to the Outer Banks and is ready to make some new friends and new beginnings. What she wasn’t expecting was making some unforgettable memories with JJ Maybank.

Warnings: Light smut, some cursing, alcohol/drug use and maybe some typos lol.

A/N: Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read this. This is my first time ever writing and publishing a fanfic so, I’m pretty excited and really nervous at the same time. I was inspired by the writers on here to finally put on my big girl pants and give this a shot. I'm really looking forward to see how this turns out. I’m planning on making this a series. Hope you like it! (Not my GIF. Credits to the owner. I don’t own the show or any of the characters) :)

Lover Boy Series Masterlist

“The Outer Banks. Paradise on Earth.” I used to think that was an exaggeration. I’m originally from Chapel Hill, so visiting the OBX was common. Now I’m living in Figure Eight. My parents wanted a change of scenery. So, what’s better than living in Paradise on Earth? To be honest, I really don’t mind. I already have a few friends I’ve known for a while who live here.

For example, would be Charis Donahue. We’ve been best friends since kindergarten. She’s an absolute wild card. Everyone who thinks they know her, thinks that she’s an innocent goody two shoes. Her real friends however, know that’s a load of bull. If you look up the word party animal in the dictionary, you’ll see a picture of Charis beside it. She’s the perfect combination of crazy, loyal and fun. That’s what makes her one of my best friends.

My other best friend is Sarah Cameron. The kook princess. Our parents are good friends, so I’ve known her for a while now. Speaking of now, we’re currently having brunch on the balcony of my new house. Charis scans her surroundings, for any adults before pouring a little bit of vodka into our glasses of orange juice before quickly shoving it back into her purse.

“Score.” Sarah praises the rebellious teen who raises her glass. “Cheers to Aria for finally getting her ass out here. Welcome to the Outer Banks love.” We all cheer and sip together, basking in the sun. “So, what are we doing tonight? Cause I’m bored out of my mind.” I confess. The two share a look.

“Well you’re in luck, because tonight we’re having a little get together at my place. My parents are flying to New Jersey for some charity event, so we have the place all to ourselves.” Charis smirks. “Nice, but what do you mean a little get together?” I asked curiously. “It’s just going to be us, Charis’s boyfriend, my boyfriend, and his friends, JJ, Pope and Kiara.” Sarah explains.

I’ve only met Charis’s boyfriend, Diego, once at a baseball game that took place in Chapel Hill. I’ve never met Sarah’s new boyfriend either, but I can tell she really likes him. She’s been talking about him nonstop ever since they started going out. I hung out with Kiara a few times during freshman year, when she and Sarah were friends, but then they had some weird blowout. Thankfully, they’re friends again, because it was kind of awkward talking to both of them when all they wanted to do was claw each other’s eyes out and I had to play the peacemaker.

“Sounds like fun. I can’t wait to finally meet this mystery stud you’re always rambling on about.” “Tonight will be epic.” Charis says. “How so?” Her helicopter of mother, Ingrid, startles the three of us. “We’re having a sleepover tonight.” Charis replies nonchalantly. She’s also a very good liar. “With who’s permission?”

“Dads’ of course.” This seems to annoy her mother. “Is that so Oscar?” Ingrid asked her husband, who was having a conversation with Ward and Claude, my dad. “Oh, come on honey. She’s old enough to host a sleepover with her friends for one night.” Oscar defends Charis, much to her mother’s dismay.

“There better not be any boys, alcohol or drugs at this sleepover.” Charis simply says okay and continues scrolling through pictures on social media before her Ingrid snatches it from her hands. “I’m serious Charis!” The two of them both had scolding eyes. “Okay! It’s just going to be us girls. I promise.” Charis snatches back the phone. Her mother scoffs and rolls her eyes before leaving us to speak with Rose. “God can she be any more annoying?” Charis grumbles under a hushed tone. “Yeah when is she not on your ass?” Sarah asked. “When she’s on my dad’s.” She replies. Both Sarah and I both scrunch our faces in disgust.

Hours later…

As of now, I’m going through my closest attempting to find something to wear. I finally decide on my black and white bikini, denim shorts, a white crochet coverup and sandals. Satisfied with my look, I grab my bag before heading out the door and down the street where I see Sarah parked outside.

“Hello my little splinter bean.” Sarah greets me with her odd nickname as I sit down in the remaining passenger seat. “Guys this is one of my best friends Aria. You already know Kie of course. This is my boyfriend John B.” He fist bumps me. “And this is his best friend JJ.” My breath hitched slightly when I looked at JJ. He’s got to be one of the most handsome guys I have ever seen with his blonde hair, tan skin, baby blue eyes and rather flirtatious smirk. I’m happy with the outfit choice I made, due to his eyes roaming up and down my body.

“Pleasure to meet you beautiful.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “Likewise, lover boy.” I can hear both John B and Sarah snickering up front. It was rather difficult to keep my cool, while being so close to JJ, our legs touching. I began wonder what the rest of his skin felt like. I was rather a little disappointed when the moment ended with us exiting the car and entering the house. We were surprised to see flames over the grill outside on the patio. “What’s good bitches?” Charis waves with a spatula and Diego sits at the bar.

“What the shit?!” The five of us say in union. Not too long after, Pope comes running in with the fire extinguisher in hand, disposing the flames.

“Jesus, what the hell were you numbskulls trying to cook?” Kie asked astonished. “Burgers, but that plan obviously went to shit…”. “Well it’s a good thing we brought beer.” JJ pops one open. “Thank god.” Says Diego.

For the rest of the night we all drank, swam, laughed and more. I genuinely enjoyed hanging out with them tonight. They’re a lot more fun than the kids at my school. I also liked catching JJ and his wandering eye. I think it was around one in the morning when everyone began to fall asleep. Me on the other hand was tossing and turning nonstop. Giving up on sleep I silently sneak out the room and to the pool where I dip my feet, enjoying the peace.

“Feeling a little restless, are we?” I turn to see JJ walking towards me. I let my eyes wander across his shirtless body. It’s a sight I could get used. He catches my gaze and smirks. “Yeah. You too?” He pulls out a blunt before lighting it. He rests it between his lips inhaling, holding the smoke in his lungs and finally releasing the toxic cloud into the warm night air. He sits next to me all close. “You want a hit?” He offers me the blunt. I was unsure at first, since I never smoked before, let alone weed. “First time for everything.” I sigh. “Atta girl.” I was definitely way over my head when I inhaled the burning smoke. I violently coughed, desperate for clean air. This earns a chuckle from him. “That shit burns.” I complain with watery eyes. “Takes some time to get used to. C’mere.”

He takes my face in his rough hands, with his thumb pushing down on my bottom lip. This time instead of exhaling the smoke into the air, it enters my mouth instead. Our lips barely brush against each other, very tempting to close the gap. This would make an interesting first kiss. I bite my lip when he pulls away. Not knowing what to do, I ask, “Wanna go for a swim?” letting my body fall into the water, waiting for him to come join me. He doesn’t disappoint when he jumps in too. I admire how his sun kissed skin gleams from the water and watch the droplets race down his muscular body.

He swims dangerously close to me, until my back hits the wall, trapping me. His hands grip my thighs before spreading them apart, before they find their way around his waist, leaving no space between us. Our lips are almost touching. My heart beats so fast I can practically hear it. I grow impatient and pull him into a kiss. Our lips dancing against each other, our tongues intertwining, and our hips grinding together. Everything is so erotic and passionate, which leaves me craving more.

His skin against mine was electrifying, especially when his hand snuck up my back to undo my top exposing me. He licks his lips and begins to kiss his way down to breast, leaving hickies on the way. I let out a surprised moan when his mouth attaches to my left breast, while his hand plays with the other. It didn’t dawn on me until now that we moved past second base and were most likely going to skip third and straight to home run. After all, the only thing that’s separating us are the two swim bottoms.

Am I seriously about to lose my virginity in my best friend’s pool to a guy I just met? A guy who knows what he’s doing with his skilled mouth and hands. I should pull away before this goes any further, yet I continue to moan and encourage him to continue as his fingers disappear under my bikini bottom. Before he could venture even farther down there, we’re interrupted by surprise visitor.

“What the actual shit Aria?!” My head whips over to the voice, belonging to Jasper. Charis’s older brother. JJ acts quickly by withdrawing his hand, earning a whimper from me, and pulling me flush against his chest attempting to shield me from the poor guy who’s staring up at the sky. “Jasper what are you doing here?!” He gives me a dumbfounded look. “I live here? And I should be asking you the same thing.”

“We were having a little get together.” “Oh there’s a little get together all right.” He said with a judgmental tone, earning a chuckle from JJ, who’s face is nuzzled into my neck. “I take it my parents don’t know you guys invited a bunch of unexpected guests?” I don’t even bother to respond to that. He simply sighs. “Just get dressed and go to bed. Secret is safe with me.” He walks back into the house leaving the two of us alone once again. We both let out a mischievous laugh before our lips connect again.

“We should continue this later babygirl.” He playfully slaps my ass making me squeal. We sneak back into the room as quiet as possible, drying ourselves off before slipping under the covers.

He spoons me, to my surprise, bodies molding together perfectly. One of his hands sneak under and up my shirt cupping my breast, while the other slips under my panties. His long fingers begin to play with my folds and clit making my breath hitch. He finds my sweet spot again before nipping at it. I let out a whimper, the sensations all over my body are too much. “Quiet babygirl. Don’t want to wake up the others.” His hot breath reaches my ear.

I gasp when a finger slips into my folds testing the waters. I bite my lip attempting to remain silent as it thrust in and out of me. He adds another, curling his fingers. I began to wonder if I was having a dirty dream. It felt too good to be real. I then realized that it indeed was real when he started hitting the sweet spot buried deep inside me bringing me close to orgasm.

“Jay, I think I’m close.” He speeds up and uses his free hand to cover my mouth. “Cum for me babygirl. Cum all over my fingers. Imagine it being my cock.” His provocative words were all that I needed to finally release. My juices coat his fingers, which he brings to his mouth licking them clean. I’m seconds away from falling into a deep and satisfied slumber.

“I can’t wait to taste more of you. For now, go to sleep. Dream of me fucking you good babygirl.” And with that I let sleep consume me as I lay next to him, hoping that I would still see him in my dreams.

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #obx netflix #outer banks #lana del rey

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rosethornewrites · 4 years

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Fic: The Rebellion of Adrien Agreste, ch. 14

Characters: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Lila Rossi, Jagged Stone, Plagg, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine, Penny Rolling, Anarka Couffaine, Rose Lavillant, Juleka Couffaine, Kagami Tsurugi, Alya Césaire, Chloé Bourgeois, Wayhem, Nadja Chamack, Nathalie Sancoeur, Sabine Cheng, Tom Dupain, Tikki, Fang, Principal Damocles, Caline Bustier, Ms. Mendeleiev, original minor character, Alec Cataldi, Lila Rossi’s Mother, Sabrina Raincomprix, Roger Raincomprix, Mylène Haprèle, Le Gorille | Adrien Agreste’s Bodyguard, Nino Lahiffe, Nooroo

Tags: Lila Rossi salt, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Teenage Rebellion, Swearing, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Crack Treated Seriously, Lila Rossi’s Lies Are Exposed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Luka Couffaine Needs a Hug, Paparazzi, Parentification, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Needs a Hug, Gabriel Agreste Needs an Aneurism, Uncle Jagged Stone, we’re all queer here, the spirit of punk is sometimes just being allowed to be yourself, Kagami Finds Her Groove, punk rock fashion, Savage Kagami, Marinette protection squad, Good Parent Sabine Cheng, Good Parent Tom Dupain, Protective Kagami Tsurugi, Protective Luka Couffaine, Bisexual Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Pansexual Luka Couffaine, Sharing a Bed, Pet Names, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Instagram, Bullying, Social Media, Anxiety, Makeover, Hugs, will cure your acne, Face Punching, Bad Ass Juleka Couffaine, Rumors, Protective Juleka Couffaine, Protective Adrien Agreste, Lawyers, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Holding Hands, accountability, mental health, Jagged Stone’s well-paid pet shark, How to Make the Evening News, Sexy eyeliner for days, one fish two fish Lila is a screwed fish, How to have fun and piss Gabriel off, Fuckery, sweet litigious karma, Alya sugar, lawyer shark doo doo doo doo doo doo, Schadenfreude, Bad Ass Alya Césaire, Gaslighting, abuse denormalization, Jagged likes his lawyers like he likes his pets: toothy af, Blood in the Water, Everything you didn’t know you wanted and some things you did, Gabriel Agreste is shark bait, Denial, Consequences, Principal Damocles salt, caline bustier salt, the impotence of Gabriel Agreste, snarky Nooroo, lies and the lying liars who tell them, Lila’s brain is a narcissistic hellscape, Lila’s mind is built like an Escher piece, Alec Cataldi salt, Adrien Sugar, wholesome salt, Fu Salt, Kwami Shenanigans, Nooroo is a little shit

Summary: Jagged's Shark! Doo doo doo doo doo doo!

Notes: Jagged’s shark! Doo doo doo doo doo doo! (@norakwami fault, there.) For real, though. Look up the lawyer’s first and last name for extra lulz. I research too much. And also I love puns. Also researched diplomatic immunity—Lila’s mom could refuse to waive it only for her bosses to override her and waive it anyway. And for serious crimes that’s sometimes the case. I wanted some Alya sugar here; yeah, she and multiple other people believed Lila and dismissed Marinette's concerns. The adults are the ones who deserve salt, though. Not a 14-year-old.

AO3 link

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They were still waiting for M. Damocles to finish contacting Mme. Rossi, Marinette having fallen asleep against Sabine and Adrien tempted to follow suit, when a commotion caught their attention. Marinette blinked awake at the shouting.

Curious, Adrien got up to peer around the corner. What he saw left him gaping.

Mme. Bustier’s class had spilled out of the classroom, and were watching as Lila and her mother yelled at each other in rapid-fire Italian, both red-faced. It was almost shocking how they met the stereotype of the hot-blooded Italian in their fervor.

Adrien watched, captivated, only vaguely aware when he was joined by the others, and when the lawyer knocked on the principal’s door and let him know about the “spectacle,” as she called it.

Marinette cried out, her face pale, pointing at a butterfly hovering near the scene. Alya took out her phone to record it, her face a mix of horror and excitement, as though she wasn’t sure she wanted an Akuma just now. Mylène started crying. Juleka moved protectively in front of Rose. Other classroom doors were opening as teachers and students alike came to investigate the commotion.

The Akuma hovered, seemingly uncertain as to which of the Rossis it wanted to go after. Unfortunately, Lila saw it, her expression brightening as she dashed toward it.

“I’ll show you all!”

Adrien gasped as the girl touched her pendant to the Akuma and a familiar butterfly-shaped mask appeared over her face. She would come after him and Marinette, and probably Luka and Kagami. And Jagged and Penny and the lawyer and Tom and Sabine… They were all defenseless. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to get away quick enough to protect them.

As he stood there, frozen, Alya dropped her phone, rushed forward, and clocked Lila in the face. Once she was on the ground, she ripped the necklace from her neck. Mme. Mendeleiev rushed forward with a large beaker from her chemistry lab as Alya broke the pendant, capturing it and covering the opening with a book.

Marinette rushing past him unfroze Adrien, and he ran after her as she hugged a pale, panting Alya.

“Alya, that was amazing,” she breathed. “You saved everyone.”

“Mari— Oh, god, Mari. She wanted to be Akumatized. She was going to go after you and hurt you, and I just couldn’t—” Alya was sobbing in her arms, babbling. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you. I’ve been a terrible friend! You tried to tell me, and p-protect me and instead I believed someone I barely knew instead of you. I c-couldn’t let her hurt you!”

As Marinette reassured her, Mme. Mendeleiev told a pallid and shaking M. Damocles that she would put the Akuma somewhere Lila couldn’t reach it for Ladybug and Chat Noir to deal with later.

Lila was keening softly on the ground, her nose obviously broken with this punch, and Adrien couldn’t help but feel a bit of schadenfreude at the sight. Her mother seemed frozen in shock, not even moving forward to comfort her daughter.

“Alya got the Akuma on video,” he murmured, thinking aloud. “So there’s video of Lila going after it to be voluntarily Akumatized.”

Nino picked up Alya’s phone, checking to see that nothing was broken. He pressed the screen to stop the recording. “Yeah, dude. She totally did. Sabrina, you might wanna call your dad. This is big.”

Sabrina immediately pulled out her phone and retreated into the classroom; Chloé blocked the door to make sure Lila didn’t try to stop her, though it seemed unnecessary—the girl gave no indication she’d heard.

M. Damocles stepped forward toward Mme. Rossi. “We will need to have a conversation about your daughter, but perhaps that will need to wait until after her arrest.”

Mme. Rossi turned white, eyes wide. “A-arrest?!”

“Your daughter just knowingly and willingly attempted to aid and abet a terrorist, Mme. Rossi,” the lawyer said, not unkindly. “She will face far more than just the lawsuits by M. Stone, M. Dupain, and Mme. Cheng.”

She stared at the lawyer as though uncomprehending.

“Of course, you could claim diplomatic immunity for your daughter, but it is likely she will at least be expelled from France, though France may choose to refer this matter to the Court of Justice of the European Union, as anti-terrorism laws extend beyond our borders.”

“Who are you?” Mme. Rossi finally demanded.

The lawyer smiled her best shark smile. “I am the head of M. Stone’s legal team, Maître Eulalie Reschignier.”

Adrien tried not to smile when he realized her name was almost a pun.

“My daughter has diplomatic immunity from all lawsuits, as I’m sure you are aware.”

The shark smile became a bit toothy. “We’re aware of that, but also aware that she can be expelled from France at the discretion of the French government.”

Whatever response Lila’s mother intended to give was interrupted by the arrival of Lieutenant Raincomprix and a retinue of other officers.

Nino stepped forward and played the video for the officers. Afterward, Roger approached the still-crying Alya to explain they’d have to take in her phone as evidence until the file could be processed. She just nodded, accepting the temporary loss; she hadn’t let go of Marinette yet.

Then he turned to Mme. Rossi. “We’ll have her injuries checked at the station, but it appears your daughter was attempting to voluntarily become an Akuma. While Akuma victims are never prosecuted, this is a very different issue.”

Mme. Rossi balked. “My daughter has diplomatic immunity!”

“We’re aware,” Officer Raincomprix said with a nod. “Since she has diplomatic immunity, she’ll be moved to a facility outside of Paris pending her likely expulsion back to Italy. Since she attempted to aid and abet a terrorist, your home country will decide whether to waive her diplomatic immunity, but regardless she is too dangerous to keep in Paris.”

That silenced Mme. Rossi, as she realized the limits of the Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations.

Several officers helped Lila off the ground and led her down the stairs toward the school entrance, followed closely by Mme. Rossi.

Adrien breathed a sigh of relief at their exit. He doubted they’d ever have to deal with Lila again—at least not in person. And he was willing to bet Italy would take a long hard look at her. Meeting Marinette’s eyes, he could see she was having similar balming thoughts; it’d take them all a while to heal from this—especially if the tears still streaming down Alya’s cheeks and the guilt in her eyes were any indication—but they’d move past this somehow, and hopefully their relationships would all be strengthened.

M. Damocles cleared his throat. “Are we finished here?”

Jagged’s smile was almost malicious. “I don’t think so. Eulalie?”

Maître Reschignier turned to the principal. “It seems Mlle. Rossi’s removal from class will no longer be necessary. Instead, we seek anti-bullying and anti-harassment training for all school personnel in addition to the investigation into the treatment of Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.”

Adrien couldn’t help but notice the elated smile that graced Mme. Mendeleiev’s face briefly, taking years off her appearance, before disappearing under her usual scowl. She, at least, was clearly not opposed to any of that. Mme. Bustier, however, looked displeased—and given that she’d rolled over multiple times to enable both Chloé and Lila, he wasn’t surprised.

The lawyer smiled, this time sincerely, at Adrien and Marinette. “I believe M. Agreste and Mlle. Dupain-Cheng would be best served returning to their class while M. Stone, Mme. Rolling, M. Dupain, and Mme. Cheng iron out the specifics with you in your office, M. Damocles.”

“Ah… Of course, Maître Reschignier.” The principal pulled out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped his brow. “That seems best.”

Mme. Bustier gestured to enter the classroom. As Adrien moved past the lawyer, she murmured, “I do hope your father will present more of a challenge, M. Agreste.”

He couldn’t hold in his laughter—oh, Adrien hoped she wrecked Gabriel Agreste.

And that he had a front-row seat when she did. And maybe some popcorn.

116 notes · View notes

vintage-story-time · 3 years

Text

SPYING ON MOM by Donna Allen

CHAPTER ONE

"You look hypnotized," Pat said.

She smiled at him. He was damn cute. He was also very young. She had picked him up in a fast-food joint near the office. She'd had her eye on him for weeks and now here she was with him in a motel room, her tits uncovered to his hot eyes, his cock out of his pants, big and swollen and his prick-tip dripping. This was just what she was in the mood for after a hard day selling real estate. A randy young stud with an

athletic body and an eager cock.

She had been right about him. He had a big prick. It was always a guess, of course. You couldn't tell just by looking at a man what he had down there. She'd been fooled too many times. But it was nice when she guessed right.

She licked a cock to be thick around. That was more important than how long it was. She licked a thick cock and big nuts. She hadn't seen his nuts yet. If he had balls to match that prick, she'd have nothing to complain about. She never complained about decent equipment. The equipment was more important than the face or the brain. Screw the face and the brain, what she wanted and needed was a working cock!

And that's what he's got, she thought. She held her tits in her hands. Her blouse was off and her bra was off and she held her tits on her palms and bounced them a bit. She had nice tits, heavy enough to be low-slung. There was a time, years ago, when she'd bounced them around as a dancer in a club.

All that was over, now. She had a successful career as a real-estate broker. She also had a ten-year-old divorce and a teenaged son about the same age as this young man.

It's four o'clock in the afternoon and I'm as

horny as an alley cat, she thought..

Was she overdoing it? She didn't think so. The illusions she'd had as a girl had been replaced by a keen sense of reality. That was why she had made a success selling real estate. She knew there were only two things important in the world: money and sex. She wanted both. She wanted all she could have..

She smiled at the guy again. His name was Wade. Kneeling down in front of him, she leaned forward and pressed her tits against his upright cock. His prick felt warm in the valley between her tits.

"Nice?"

"Oh yeah!" he said.

"You've been looking at my tits ever since we met. Now you've got them around your cock."

"That's right."

She didn't want to ask him how often he had a woman old enough to be his mother come on to him. She didn't care. There were thousands of women out there who wouldn't mind taking her place. They wouldn't mind having a hot young cock on fire between their tits.

She pulled away. "Let's get the rest of your clothes off, okay?"

"Sure, Patricia."

"Call me Pat." "Okay, Pat."

"Let's have a look at you."

She could tell he was nervous. His fingers were fumbling as she helped him undress. But he had nothing to be shy about. He had a delicious body, big shoulders, all the muscles, everything she liked. And the equipment. Big cock and big balls. There was enough fuckmeat there to make a girl quiver. What a hunger she had for young men! What a shameless hedonist she was!

I love it! she thought. She could feel the anticipation tying knots in her belly.

"What do you do?" she said. "You must do something athletic. With a body like this."

He shrugged. "I played some football in high school."

"Did you finish school?"

"I dropped out."

"You ought to go back."

He looked at her as if she was crazy. "What do you want to talk about that for?"

"Yes, you're right."

She moved close to him and kissed his lips. She ran her fingertips along the underside of his cock and then dropped her hand to cup his balls in her palm.

"I like your body," she said. "I like what you've got down here."

After that, she dropped to her knees. She wanted a taste of him. That juicy pink fuckknob. They were all different. When she'd been a girl, she'd been obsessed with cocks. All that sucking she did in high school. She'd been careful not to be too promiscuous. Her father would have killed her if he'd known what was going on. She had to get married early. She had to in order to save her sanity. So what if it didn't last? She had come through it all right, hadn't she? She had a grown son. She had her own business. She had this well-hung guy to ball for the next few hours. She had nothing to be sorry for.

She started licking his cock. Up and down with the flat of her tongue, sniffing and licking, and then at times moving underneath to lick his ball-bag. A man she once knew had told her she was a very oral woman. He was right. She enjoyed using her mouth. She enjoyed the feel of a cock between her lips. What she was doing now was postponing the pleasure of it. It also gave her a chance to smell him. She loved the sweaty smell in a man's crotch.

God, his balls were lovely! Like two walnuts in a pink leather pouch. And above the bag, his thick cock straining to hit his belly. She gave a last fuck from his balls up along the underside of his cockshaft to the tip of his prick. He shuddered. That was nice. She liked to make them shudder.

Holding his nuts in her palm, she closed her fingers around the upper part of his ball-bag and pulled his ball sac. Then she ran her lips over his cockhead and took it in. His fat juicy fuck knob in her mouth. He groaned. She swirled her tongue around and wound his cockhead. She rubbed her tongue-tip back and forth over his piss-hole.

He'll remember me, she thought. She wouldn't see him again. She never saw them after the first time. But like the others, he'd remember her-that gorgeous blonde who picked him up and gave him a time in a motel room.

She sucked on his prick. Of course, he liked it, but she always thought she was the one who enjoyed it more. Any woman who didn't like a cock in her mouth was either crazy or a liar. Even some lesbians liked it. She knew one did. Josie West, the girl she'd worked with years ago. They still talked on the telephone on occasion.

Josie always claimed the only thing a man was good for was a bank account and a cock to suck.

She took more of the guy's prick in her mouth, down to about half the length of his cockshaft. She knew he wanted more, but she stopped there and pulled back and let his fuckknob drop out.

"Nice," she said. "Do you like it?"

The guy groaned. "You know it!"

She looked up at him and smiled. It turned her on to see the pleasure in his eyes. He was hot for her. Of course, in the state he was in, he would take almost any woman, but she was the one who had him. And she'd get hers, too. She always made sure of that. You had to prod them when they were as young as this, but she would make sure to get hers.

She knew some people thought she was a determined woman. Maybe she was. She was determined to do more with her life than dream. She wanted too much.

What she wanted now was a mouthful of jism. Holding his cockhead between her lips, she stroked his fat cock with her fingers. It didn't take long. He was caught by surprise. He was already on the edge because of his excitement, and in a moment she had him spurting his load in her mouth.

He groaned as he came. "Jesus, what did you do that for?"

"To calm you down. And because I like it. Sit down and rest while I get my clothes off."

She finished undressing. Now the rush was over and she could begin to enjoy the sex the way she liked to enjoy it. She hated rushing things. They were always so hungry for it. That was the only real disadvantage they had. An older man knew enough to take his time. A teenaged guy was like a young bull in a china shop.

She gave him a show. As her tits wobbled around, she could see the heat in his eyes. She knew she had a great body. A solid round ass and long shapely legs. Heavy tits with prominent pink nipples. Some of them always went crazy over her tits. Her tits looked ordinary under a dress when she wore a bra. But once the bra came off, the weight was there, and they had a lovely ripe-looking shape.

When she was naked, she stretched out on the bed. "Come over here and be nice to me."

He was on her quickly. She kissed his mouth. She pushed his head down to her tits and he sucked her nipples, one after the other. Then she pushed his head again and pulled her knees back.

"Down at the candy counter," she said.

He wasn't bashful about it. Sometimes when they were too inexperienced, they hesitated about eating her. She always insisted. She loved it. If they were too awkward, she told them what she wanted. She loved having a mouth on her cunt. She loved seeing her juices on a man's face. The young men looked so cute when they came up for air. Suck my cunt, she thought. Suck out all the goodies.

This guy did a passable job of eating her. He'd certainly had his mouth on a pussy before. He knew where her clit was. He knew enough to nibble at it until it felt so good she had to start pumping her pussy at his face. She held his head with her hands and fucked her cunt at his mouth.

"Keep sucking," she said. "Keep sucking until I tell you to stop."

After a while, she pushed him away. His cock was like a bar of steel again. That was why she felt no qualms about forcing them to go down on her. Most of them loved it. They loved getting their mouths in a wet pussy. Their hot little mouths. She loved it when they were good at it. She'd had a lesbian do her once. Not Josie, someone else. She'd never made it with Josie. They were nothing more than friends. The les-

bian had been the best at sucking her pussy. But a man could come close. And a man had a cock and that was what she needed.

"Let me fuck you," the guy said.

She smiled at him. "Yes, it's time. You can get behind me."

She liked it best that way. Kneeling with her ass in the air and the cock behind her. She rolled over now and knelt on the mattress. She knew the effect it had on him. He could see everything she had, her cunt and asshole, everything hanging out. He looked so cute with cunt-juice on his lips.

In a moment he had his hands on her ass and his cock rubbing against her pussy. She was wet and wide-open, and he had no trouble sliding his fuck-knob inside her cunthole. She quivered with pleasure as his thick cock filled her cunt-channel. Young as he was, he knew how to fuck. He had a strong cock and he knew how to use it. She hadn't made a mistake in choosing him.

"Do you like doing it this way?" she said. He drove his cock in deep. "Yeah, sure." "Would you like to fuck my ass?"

"You mean it?"

"Yes, but fuck my pussy first. I'll tell you when to switch."

She could sense his excitement by the way he pumped at her cunt. He was like a young stallion, his balls swinging against her clit each time he slammed forward. She rested the side of her face against the mattress and spread her legs wide. She squeezed her tits with one hand. In this position her tits hung far down and the squeezing felt delicious.

After a while she told him he could switch.

"Do you really want it in your ass?"

"Of course I do. Haven't you ever done it?"

"Sure," he said. But of course, it was a lie. If he had done it before, he wouldn't have asked if she really wanted it.

He pulled out of her cunt and she told him to go on and stick his cock in her ass. She was ready for it. She had visited the bathroom when they first arrived and she had greased her asshole with Vaseline. Life didn't amount to much unless you went after what you needed.

She pushed out, opened her asshole to make it easy for him. She knew she could take him without any trouble. It was sweet that this was his first time. He'd never forget her now.

A deep groan came out of his throat as he slid his cock into the hot grip of her shitter. "Oh Jesus!"

"Is it good?"

"It's great!"

"Take your time. Make it last. It's nicer when it lasts a long time."

He took her advice. He stroked slowly. His cock sliding smoothly in and out of her wide open ass. It was funny how when she was a girl she'd never thought she could go for it. Now she liked it better than the other way.

He was skillful enough to keep fucking her ass nearly five minutes. By this time, her asshole and shit-tube were loose and buttery, and she had already come twice.

When she had the third climax, she clamped her ass with his cock and he lost control. With a groan, he slammed his cock forward and shot off in her bowels.

Afterward she brought a wet towel from the bathroom and cleaned him up.

He lay back on the bed with his folded arms under his head and his breathing heavy. He looked down at her as she wiped his cock with the towel.

"God, you're something," he said.

"Too much for you?"

"I could fuck you for a year."

"We don't have a year, we have only a little while. Turn over and I'll do something nice."

He had a puzzled look on his face as he rolled

over. How innocent he was! It was fun getting him to lose his innocence. She always had more fun with a teenager. A grown man expected everything and gave back very little. A teenage guy was grateful.

She played with his ass. She ran the wet towel up and down his asscrack to get it clean. He started squirming, complained she was tickling him. She told him to lie still. She told him he might learn something.

She liked his ass. She gripped and rolled his asscheeks and then spread them apart to expose his brownie. His puckered little eye. She went down on it. Holding his asscheeks open, she tickled his bunghole with her tongue.

"Oh Jesus!" he said.

"No good?"

"Do it again!"

"Get on your knees so I can do it the right way." She didn't always do it. She never did it to a grown man. Only to the guys. They brought out the lust in her.

When he was on his knees, she crouched behind him to rim his asshole. He groaned as she loosened his Ms-bud with her tongue. Then her tongue was inside, swirling in her shitter, in and out as he trembled at the feel of it.

"Do you like it?" she said.

"Oh wow!"

She was amused. How she loved getting them hot! She pulled his balls and cock back and sucked the knob of his prick. Then she licked his asshole again, long swipes of her tongue with plenty of saliva. Soon she had his ass loose and open.

She made him get on his back again. His cock was iron-hard, his balls tight against the base of his cockshaft. His prick looked about to explode. She teased his cockhead with her fingers. "You liked that, didn't you?"

"Yeah!"

"It's called rimming."

"I know. I thought it's something only queers do."

"Now you know better."

She played with his cock and balls, teasing him by keeping the touches light and feathery. Then she told him to pull his knees back. He was like putty now. He would do anything she wanted. When his knees were pulled back, she rolled her thumb over his asshole. Then her middle finger. He made a sound of pleasure as she pushed her middle finger inside his ass.

"Nice?"

"Christ, you're making me crazy!"

"But you like it."

"Yeah!"

She added another finger. His asshole was loose enough to take it easily. She moved the fingers in and out a few times, and then she leaned forward and took his swollen cockhead in her mouth.

He went crazy. He squirmed on the bed as she blew him. She screwed her fingers in and out of his ass as she sucked his cock. He couldn't last. Another few seconds and she had what she wanted. He bucked off the bed as the jism spurted out of his prick. All that sweet cock-cream. The nice thing about guys his age was they always had a gallon of spunk to give her.

When Pat arrived home, she called out to Stuart, but there was no answer. Then she walked to the open door of his room and she saw that he was asleep. He was under the sheet with the reading light on. The air conditioning was off. She could tell he was naked under the sheet. She could also see he had a raging hard-on.

She and Stuart had been alone together so

long there were no walls between them. Most people were surprised when she told them she had a teenage son. They said she looked too young. Yes, it was true. She did look too young to be his mother. But his mother she was. They were friends. She fucked men whenever she was in the mood, but the only man she really cared about was Stuart. They did everything except that. They had all the bonds except sex.

When he began to grow up, they stopped walking around the house without clothes. Sometimes she was sorry about it. She liked looking at him. The way his body developed. And she knew he liked looking at her, too. But they never looked at each other these days. Not unless it was accidental.

Sometimes he would unexpectedly come into her room while she was dressing, and he would see her in a bra and panties. Or she would see him under the same circumstances. She saw him all the time in his jockey shorts. The bulge of his cock and balls. Sometimes it drove her crazy. All that lovely cockmeat in the pouch of his shorts. So what if he was her own son? She wasn't made out of stone, was she? She knew what his cock looked like. She had seen it often enough when he was a kid, and then after that

on occasion. She had even seen him hard a few times. Like now. When he was sleeping. His prick standing up like a telephone pole. She wanted to see it again. She had just fucked a guy in a motel room and here she was with a letch to have a look at her son.

She resisted the impulse. Maybe it was too kinky. But she had never denied to herself that Stuart excited her sexually. It didn't bother her. She didn't care what people would say about it. They hadn't fucked yet anyway. All she did was think about it. And maybe Stuart thought about it too. The way he stared at her tits when he saw her in a bra. She had to look at him now.

She told herself the sheet had to be adjusted. She wanted him to sleep comfortably. He had the sheet bunched up on one side and all she would do was straighten it out. She lifted the sheet and held it up long enough to get a good look at his cock.

There it was, that lovely hard prick, stiff as a poker and slanting back toward his belly. She hadn't seen it like this in a long time. How big he was! That glorious cock-knob. His swollen pink balls. He had his father's coloring. Lots of dark crotch hair. He wasn't a child any more. This was a young man with a man's equipment, and a woman had to be blind not to be turned

on by him. It made no difference that he was her own son, her mouth watered as she gazed at his cock.

She finally left him. She turned the light off and walked quietly out of his room and down the hall to her bedroom. She could feel the beating of her heart. She was sweating. Oh baby, she thought. She stripped her clothes off and stepped into the shower.

So he turned her on, so what? That had happened before. But this time, it felt different. That gorgeous cock he had! She was certainly cock-crazy. She had always been cock-crazy. She lathered the soap over her body, fondled her tits and pussy and carefully reamed her asshole with a fingertip. She remembered the feel of Wade's cock in her ass. Stuart's cock would feel better. Stuart had more cock than Wade. Longer and thicker. She closed her eyes and shuddered as she thought of her son's cock in her ass.

She thought about all the guys she'd had. The teenagers and young men she'd picked up whenever she was in the mood fat it. Maybe it was all a cover for the lust she had for Stuart. Maybe that was it.

She rubbed her cunt. She thought, about Stuart as she masturbated. Could it possibly

happen? Would they sooner or later wind up in bed together?

Why not? she thought. It was what she wanted. It made no sense any more to delude herself. She wanted Stuart. Just the idea of it made her quiver from head to toe. Was it possible? She decided that if it was possible, she would find a way to do it.

She came thinking about that. The orgasm ripped through her pussy as she thought of Stuart in bed with her. That lovely cock sliding in and out of her cunt.

Yes, she thought. That's what I want!

#SPYING ON MOM by Donna Allen #Chapter 1

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mymelodyheart · 4 years

Text

Highland Destiny Chapter 5 ~Dinner for Two~

They were standing in the middle of the lounge, suspended in time and space, between heaven and earth, looking into one another's eyes. Claire's hand was still in Jamie's, his fingers generating tiny sparks that surged erratically through her body, fanned into a flame with just a little pressure of touch. His eyes, dark with wanting, bore into her soul, sending delicious heat to her core. She felt the sudden rush of blood to her head as her heart raced, scattering all logic and reasoning into some unknown dark abyss. She tried to summon a memory from the past; Frank, Oxford, the hospital corridors, her parents, uncle Lamb... anything to keep her from drowning into Jamie's deep blue. But it was futile. She was falling, dropping, slipping, but she had no idea into where.

The electrically charged interlude was interrupted by the sound of ringing from Claire's iPhone, jarring them from their trance and making them both blink. " Dhia !" Jamie murmured under his breath as his hand released Claire's, to rub the nape of his neck.

Ding! Ding! Saved by the bell.

O' sweet Lord Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Ding ding indeed!

Regaining a tiny bit of composure, Claire reached behind the back pocket of her jeans, extracting her phone. "I need to take this," she whispered hoarsely, barely audible.

He nodded and motioned with his hands towards the doorway as he made his way to the kitchen. She nodded back with an apologetic smile.

Seeing the image of the caller on her phone, Claire momentarily forgot Jaime and what just transpired. "Geillis, darling!"

"Hiya chick! How are you daein'? O' my God, o' my God ah heard from Joe yoo're in town. Sae, ye moved here for good?" answered an animated woman's voice in broad Glaswegian.

" Absobloodylootely – YES! Oh God, it's so good to hear your voice, Geillis. We ought to meet up as soon as possible. Listen, are you free Friday night? If so, let's catch up then. It has been bloody ages!"

"Och this is so excitin'! Aye definitely, let's meet up. Maybe Joe will come too. Ah cannae wait tae see you and show you our shop. By th' way, what's wrang wi' ye? Ye sound like ye hae bin runnin'. 'Tis a bad time?"

Claire twisted backwards to peek through the doorway. She saw Jamie leaning over the sink, splashing water to his face and neck and felt the heat crept up her own. "Well, kind of. Look, sorry to make this short but got to go. I promise to call you first thing tomorrow. Is Scotch & Rye Pub on Friday at 7 ok? I've been told that its the place to be. We can grab some fish and chips if you fancy."

"Brilliant, sorted! Scotch & Rye pub it is then Friday at 7! Ah cannae wait. An', och, Claire...you hae a laddie there wi' ye?" She can almost see her friend's cheeks dimpling and giving a wicked wink.

"Sod off, Geillis!" She always knows, the bloody cow! With that, Claire turned off her phone.

Although she was so thrilled to hear from her friend, the call was a welcomed distraction. Geillis was one of her closest mates in Oxford in medical school. And along with Joe, they were the three Musketeers in the campus until Geillis dropped out. In the earlier days, she developed an interest in Alternative Healing after joining a movement against big pharmaceutical companies; hence, she left her medical studies and followed her boyfriend to Inverness to set up a health and herb shop.

Claire was staring at the phone in her hand when Jamie walked back in. He leaned on the doorway, smiling, his breadth blocking the light from the corridor. "Hey, Sassenach. Shall we start dinner?"

She smiled back. "Sure!" And she followed him to the kitchen taking his outreached hand.

..........

In the next half hour, Claire busied herself with dinner's preparation while Jamie chopped the shallots and washed the chanterelles. Still rattled from earlier, she carefully stirred their conversation onto something neutral and avoided eye contact, but working in such a small area, touching was unavoidable. A couple of times, he had to place his hands on her hips as he navigated narrow spaces, and his mere touch sent bolts of heat coursing through her body. But with his laid-back and relaxed manner, it wasn't long before they were back to bantering and joking. Once the chanterelles had been sauteed, and the rice and shallot simmering in broth and wine, she left him to continue cooking while she washed and changed.

Drying herself after a quick shower and shave, Claire was very conscious of Jaime in the other room. Just knowing that he was there under the same roof was enough to make her heart do somersaults. She could hear him moving about as the wooden floors creaked and the pots and pans banged. For a very big man, he looked right at home and comfortable working in the kitchen.

In her bedroom, she looked for something to wear but looking into her wardrobe, there wasn't really a lot of choices. Well, it's only Jamie anyway, it's not like it's a date!

Well Beauchamp, ready for round 2? Ding! Ding!

Wot round 2? There will be no round 2.

So why did you shave your legs?

Rubbish! I always shave my legs.

Liar, liar, pants on fire!

Annoyed with herself, she decided to put on a pair of black leggings, an over-sized sweatshirt emblazoned, OXFORD and white woollen socks. She twisted her hair to the top of her head and fastened it with a hair clasp after giving up on taming her wayward curls. Looking into the mirror, she scrunched her nose and poked her tongue out.

Ok, Beauchamp, let's do this!

Do what?

Get laid?

Not gonna happen.

But you want to.

I do not!

Liar, Liar, Pants on fire!

Sod off!

Satisfied with her reflection, she went to the kitchen.

When Claire walked in, Jaime was in the process of opening a bottle of Chablis. He gave her one of those heart-dropping smiles as he took in the sight of her. His eyes travelled up and down, lingering for a moment at her breast. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Can he tell I don't have a bra? She quickly reached down to touch the hem of her sweatshirt to check its thickness. Taking it as an awkward moment, Jamie reached out and guided her to the table, placing a hand on the small of her back. The scent of her favourite food made her stomach growl ferociously. He must have heard her belly rumble. "Hungry Sassenach? he said with a grin.

She was pleasantly surprised to see that Jamie did make himself at home. There was nothing else for her to do: the table was set, the green salad dressed, her flowers haphazardly arranged in the vase and placed on a side table, and he even had a few of her scented candles burning. In the background, she could hear L-O-V-E song by Nat King Cole playing softly in the lounge. In spite of her nervousness, she couldn't help but smile. Maybe the hunger was getting the better of her.

"Very hungry, indeed!" she replied. Then cocking her head, she exclaimed, "Oh my God, Jaime, you have Uncle Lambs record player working! Sorry, I don't have any sound system set up yet. It's been a hectic during the last few days. There's still a lot of things I need to do with this house."

"Och, dinna fash Sassenach. I love old music and light jazz. We still have my grand parent's record player in our family home, and occasionally, we play some of my ma's collections for 'ol time sake. I hope you dinna mind me going through your uncle's records."

"No of course not, that's what it's there for. Maybe after dinner, we can go through some and listen to some old jig."

"That's grand, Sassenach!" He took her hand and kissed the inside of her palm.

Over the next couple of hours, Jamie and Claire got better acquainted over Rissotto and wine. As the evening progressed, Claire began to relax and enjoy herself as they exchanged stories about their families and life. She found Jamie charming, and like most Scots, he was born a storyteller. He spoke of his late parents and his sister in Lallybroch where he grew up, and in return, she reciprocated in kind and spoke of her travels to archaeological sites with Uncle Lamb and what she can remember of her parents.

After dinner, they moved to the lounge to listen to records. While Jamie lit up the log burner and prepared the whisky and tumblers, Claire fixed a tray of strawberries and cream and coffee. Claire couldn't help notice how at ease Jamie was - he looked like he's lived in Uncle Lamb's cottage forever. For the first time she arrived in Inverness, Claire felt at home, and she wondered if it had to do with Jamie.

..........

Three-quarters of the whisky bottle later, Jamie and Claire collapsed on the floor, spent from laughing so much, after attempting to dance the can-can to Sinatra's "New York, New York." Jamie was a terrible dancer, and Claire couldn't help but giggle her way through the routine. After a few more twirls and twists, they decided to call it a night. She didn't want the evening to end, but it was getting rather late.

Claire got up from the floor and holding up an almost empty bottle in the air, she announced, before slumping on the sofa, "Ok, Jamie, last drink. I'm totally knackered."

Jamie followed suit, but instead of sitting beside her, he sat down on the coffee table facing her. He reached out and took her hands between his own. This time, there was no hint of seduction or suggestion of flirt. "Sassenach, thank ye so much for a lovely evening. I've never laughed so much in my life, but I will need a taxi, I canna drive back home in my state," he said with a slight slur.

"Rubbish, you can stay here, there's plenty of room. I won't have you driving after drinking so much, and you can have my bed, it's the biggest in the house. I'll take the guest room," Claire insisted. She tried to stand up but swayed a bit. As she regained her balance, she looked up at him and smiled. "And Jaime, I had a wonderful time too. Thank you." Claire got on her tip-toes and gave Jamie a kiss on the cheek before swaggering backwards. She giggled. "Ooops."

"Weel, if ye don't mind, then I don't mind either." Jamie slightly unsteady on his feet, caught Claire by the elbows and laughed.

Claire peered into the almost empty bottle of whisky and poured the rest in each of the tumblers. "Good! That's settled then. And no, I don't mind at all. Last drink?" she said, handing a glass to Jaime.

"Aye." And raising his glass, he made a toast. "Slange var Sassenach!"

Claire wobbling on her feet managed to raise her glass, laughing. "Cheers mate!"

After downing their whisky, Claire handed the glasses and empty bottles to Jamie. "Right, I'll go and get some fresh sheets, and you can bring these in the kitchen. Then off to bed."

"To bed or to sleep?" he asked mischievously with a glint in his eyes.

"Ha-ha,"

Claire hurried to the bedroom, slightly zig-zagging as she made her way. That last remark from Jamie made her conscious of him all over again. Damn you, Jaime! As she was getting some fresh linens from the cupboard, she heard a thump and glasses falli

"Jamie, are you alright?" She went quickly to the kitchen and found Jamie taking off his shirt stained with wine. On the floor were shards of glass and spilt leftover wine.

"Och sorry Sassenach, I'm not familiar with your house, and I forgot you had boxes laid there. I tripped over them."

Claire thinking he might be still shaky on his feet due to intoxication, pulled him away from the broken glasses. "It's alright, Jamie. Just stand back a little please." After cleaning up, she went over to him to see if he had a cut. "Let me see you hands Jamie."

"Dinna fash Sassenach, it's just a wee cut." He held up his thumb, and she saw there was a shard sticking out. She quickly went to her first aid kit drawer, to get a tweezer, iodine and some cotton. It was a small cut, but the shard had to be taken out.

Holding Jaime's thumb to the light, she pulled the glass out from the cut, and fresh blood started to flow. Without thinking, as if it was the most natural thing to do, Claire put his thumb to her mouth to suck the blood. Oh, sweet Mother Mary, what did I just do? She only came to her senses when she felt Jaime drew a sharp intake of breath. She felt embarrassed. Feeling idiotic and foolish, Claire didn't dare look up to Jaime and slowly released his hand. Head bowed, she realised he had taken off his shirt after forgetting about it for a moment. As her eyes wandered to his naked torso, she noticed his hard washboard abs and the movement of his breathing. On the hollow of his navel, ran a trail of dark reddish-gold hair that disappeared into his jeans. The thought of running her finger on that trail made the insides of her legs quiver. The skin on her face and neck turned hot. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, what have I done, and what am I thinking?

"Sassenach, are you alright?" Jaime said softly as he lifted her chin to look him in the eye. What she saw in Jaime's eye was a concern, instead of his usual mischief. She can only nod, too aware of Jamie's naked torso "You dinna need to be scairt of me - I wouldna force me on you." He paused, taking her hand. "But I would verra much like to kiss you. Would you mind?"

Point of no return, she swallowed. "No Jaime, I wouldn't mind." She paused and then continued, her voice sounding raspy to her ears. "Please kiss me," Then she placed her cool hands on his hard abdomen.

The moment, Claire touched him, he felt his body was on fire. He thought of the other women in his life in the past, Louise, Geneva, Annalise, Laoghair e, and looking back, he realised how shallow they have been. The sex was always a welcome release, but beyond that, there was nothing. With Claire, everything came naturally; he was himself, he can laugh, and most of all, she was herself. He looked down at the woman before him but still found himself confused with what he was feeling.

Jaime, staring into Claire's golden caramel eyes, slowly lowered his head, one hand behind her neck and the other on her waist, pulling her against him. Their lips met, just the lightest touch, but it was enough to send electricity sparks across every nerve ending. It was just a grazing of lips, but he was shaken to the core. He pulled away, his heart hammering, taking shallow breaths. He looked at Claire's beautiful face, her eyes were closed and her lips lightly parted. Dhia! Unable to contain himself, he pulled her back once more, this time into a more passionate and intense kiss. He gently thrust his tongue to the opening of her mouth, parting them to delve inside, teasing and probing until she made whimpering sounds. Her own kisses became hot and urgent, her arms snaking around his neck while her fingers ran through his hair, and this made him kiss her harder more. Standing on tiptoes, she pressed her body closer, crushing her breast against his hard chest, sending pleasures down his groin and making Jamie groan.

They pulled away for air, and Jamie searched Claire's face. "Sassenach, I want ye so much, I can scarcely breathe. Will ye have me?" His voice cracked.

He thought his heart would burst when she nodded.

Feeling emboldened, Jamie then hoisted Claire on to the kitchen counter and clumsily pulled up her sweatshirt, releasing her hair from its clasp and revealing her white breasts. Her curly mass came tumbling down, and Jamie ran his hands through them, raining her neck with urgent kisses and nibbling her earlobes. " Mo Nighean Donn," he whispered. Her legs automatically wrapped themselves around his waist, and she arched her back as an invitation, Jamie's Gaelic endearments making her wild. "Christ Claire, ye are so beautiful!" Jamie whispered in a ragged voice.

Claire moaned loudly as he lowered his head to suckle at each breast, paying homage to each erect nipple. Then his tongue started its frenzied exploration on her skin as his hands tugged at the waistband of her leggings. Once released from the constriction of clothing, Claire said in a husky voice, "Take off your pants, I want you now."

Seeing Claire exposed on the kitchen counter with her legs apart, was enough to drive Jamie wild with lust. He quickly unbuckled his belt and lowered his jeans without taking his eyes off Claire. Relieved of his jeans, he gathered her into a crushing embrace, his hands fondling her round arse, pressing his hardness against her. Her hips started to rotate, wrapping her legs tighter. He reached down between her thighs, and the feel of her slippery wetness made him groan and grab her thighs even tighter. "Jamie, I want you inside me, please."

Hearing the plea, Jamie lifted her with ease, spreading her legs as he pinned her against the wall. Without a word, he plunged his cock into her wetness. Jamie silenced her cries with a hard kiss thrusting his tongue in the same rhythm as his cock. After a moment, breathing hard, he released her lips, biting and kissing her neck, his hands tightening their hold on her arse as he rammed into her, slamming Claire's back against the kitchen wall. She whispered "harder," and "deeper" as she bit him hard on the neck, which drove Jamie to the edge. He did as she asked and more. As Claire let out a loud cry, her body began to convulse, making his balls tighten. Finding his own abrupt rush of release, Jamie arched his back as he thrust one last time and let out a grunt.

They held each other for a long while, not speaking, not moving. Eventually, Jamie carried Claire to her bed. She was limp in his arms. As he laid her down, he slipped in under the duvet with her and gathered her close to him. They fitted perfectly. And then he whispered softly, tha gaol agam ort mo chridhe.

#melodyheart #highlanddestiny #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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solartranslations · 3 years

Text

VF Dante Chapter 4: Feelings, Growing Closer

The heart hurts more than the body. What he recalls is both the past and the present…

Flashback: Captain’s Cabin

Dante: I can’t believe I now host the strange power I was sent to investigate…

Dante: But, the way I contracted the “Emperor” Tarocco…was like an accident

Dante: Can I really go on as a betrayer…?

Flashback: Rocks

Mondo: Now that you’ve been chosen by the Tarocco, you are family!

Mondo: I won’t let anyone deny that! Not the people of this island, or even you!

Flashback: Captain’s Cabin

Dante: “Why should I listen to you?”…is what I said, but what happened?

Dante: Haha…how many years had it been? And yet, I’m still here

Dante: …On this land ruled by that big-hearted lawbreaker—

Dante: In my homeland, it would be unthinkable

Dante: Back there, everyone acted on self-interest, and you had no choice but to outsmart others in order to live…

Dante: Damn it…I thought I was done with this yearning

Dante: Regalo…and my homeland, Nord…

>Regalo will accept you, Dante

>You’re my “family”, Dante

Dante: Who was that calling me?

Dante: A ghost from this beautiful island of Regalo?

Dante: …If so…perhaps I am loved by this island

Dante: An illusion? I have no family left in this world

Dante: Even if I did, they wouldn’t say something so kind

Dante: …Wait, what about that person who insisted I was “family” when I came here?

Dante: Regalo, and “Arcana Famiglia”…

Dante: Hmph…yes. Perhaps I have been just acting indecisive

Dante: I have my answer

End Flashback

Scene: VF Cabin Deck 3

Dante: Good morning, Ojou-san

❤≪Dante≫ Regalo

Place: I saw a nostalgic dream this morning

Daily: My wounds don’t hurt. I couldn’t be a sailor if I couldn’t take it

Dante: Still sleepy? You seem spaced out

Dante: We must complete our objective today and return to Regalo where Mondo is waiting

>Are you glad you contracted the “Emperor”?

(No Amore)

>Regalo is where we belong…

(+20 Amore)

>Thank you for protecting Regalo

(+30 Amore)

Dante: It hasn’t all been great, but it’s thanks to that that I’m here now

Dante: I can even answer your half-asleep questions

Dante: …I chose Regalo as my home on my own

Dante: So, Ojou-san. Let’s think of a plan to get off this ghost ship then

Dante: That’s sudden. And you’re missing one thing

Dante: Protecting Regalo and you will always be in my future. So don’t worry

❤≪Dante≫ Tarocco ❤≪Dante≫ Regalo ❤≪Dante≫ Ojou-san

Daily: My wounds don’t hurt. I couldn’t be a sailor if I couldn’t take it

Person: Is something worrying her?

Person: Right, I remember hearing someone calling me in my dream

Place: We must return to Regalo soon

Link: I should be thanking you

Pleasure: Hearing that makes the pain from yesterday go away

Person: Right, I remember hearing someone calling me in my dream

Dante: But, why do you say that all of a sudden…?

Dante: It would be terrible if you caught a fever. Let me see

Felicita: !

Dante: Come, Ojou-san

Ash: Geez…it’s too early for this, old man

Fukurota: Hoot!

Dante: Hm, so you’re coming to see us today?

Ash: I didn’t want you to fire your bazooka everywhere and break the mast

❤≪Ash≫ Seems irritated

Person: I want to ask how much the old man knows

Person: Things seem weird between them

Arcana: The source of that bazooka’s power is the Tarocco

Dante: Well, I won’t use it if you don’t hurt Ojou-san

Ash: Liar! You’re the one who attacked! Even the ghosts say not to listen to a thief!

Ash: Strawberry Head, you’ll end up a ruffian with a dad like this

Felicita: *mad*

Dante: …Wait

❤≪Dante≫ Can’t seem to handle it

Link: I want to reassure Ojou-san

Pain: I’ll have to correct him

Dante: You can misunderstand anything else

Ash: Huh?

(*bam) Dante: But Felicita is not my daughter, we’re a couple!

Felicita: !?

Dante: Don’t look so surprised. You’re the one who didn’t like me acting as your guardian

>Can I believe that?

(-10 Amore)

>…Yeah

(+15 Amore)

>I’ve been waiting for you to say that…

(+30 Amore)

Felicita: …

Dante: Don’t say that, Ojou-san

Dante: …I truly apologize for not correcting him sooner

Felicita: …

Dante: …Right

Dante: I know that I made you feel uneasy and I’m truly sorry

Felicita: …

Dante: I couldn’t allow him to continue to misunderstand

Dante: I’m sorry for taking so long, Felicita

❤≪Dante≫ Ojou-san ❤≪Dante≫ Ojou-san ❤≪Dante≫ Ojou-san

Arcana: With your powers, you know you can

Link: Did I make you feel that uneasy?

Link: Do you feel better now, Ojou-san?

Person: I was able to say with pride that we’re together

Link: I wasn’t avoiding saying it out loud

Person: Do you feel better now, Ojou-san?

Love: I have to say it, not just feel it

Felicita: *shine*

Dante: Yes. A smile truly does suit you

Ash: Hey. Can you two get out of your own little world already?

❤≪Ash≫ Can’t seem to handle it

Daily: That’s completely unrelated

Link: So that’s why things between them seemed so weird

Person: The old man is in the way

Dante: What? Lovers from Regalo whisper words of love to each other every day

Ash: That’s gross, old man!

Dante: Hmph…now, you said your name was Ash

❤≪Dante≫ Seems to be having fun

Daily: I must scold him

Link: The Tarocco has forged a new bond

Arcana: He’s contracted…

Dante: Now that you host the Tarocco, you must get used to the customs of Regalo

Dante: Ojou-san, can you run?

Felicita: Yeah

Dante: You don’t want your ship destroyed, right? Come then, Ash!

Ash: Tch!

~*Scene: VF Deck*~

Dante: Since you now host the “Magician” card, I, “L’Imperatore” request a match with you

Dante: The loser must listen to the winner’s request!

(*bam) Dante: This is a fight against me, er, “Arcana Famiglia”!

Ash: Huh!? You think I’ll follow your rules? It’ll be quicker if I go for Strawberry Head!

Felicita: …

Dodge!

>Hit

(+50 Amore)

>Miss

(-50 Amore)

Felicita: *dodge*

Dante: Ojou-san!

Felicita: !?

(*clang) Dante: I won’t let you!

Ash: Tch…

Dante: Then since you have broken our rules, I will stop you

Dante: Ojou-san, will you join me in this battle for our honor?

Felicita: Yeah

Ash: Take this!

Felicita: …

Dodge!

>Hit

(+50 Amore)

>Miss

(-50 Amore)

Felicita: *dodge*

(*whack) Felicita: Ah!

Felicita: *glare*

(*whoosh) Dante: Haah!!

(*dodge) Ash: Damn it, I’m only attacking Strawberry Head. This game of tag is a pain…!

Dante: Your opponent will be me!

Dante: Hyah!!

(*smirk) Ash: Hah! Two on one? Fine. I’ll take the handicap

Felicita: …

(*whish) Felicita: Hya!

Attack!

>Hit

(+50 Amore)

>Miss

(-50 Amore)

Dante: Good!

(*dodge)

Dante: Ojou-san, don’t push yourself!

(*grab) Dante: You’re wide open!

(*dodge)

Ash: This is getting nowhere…old man

❤≪Ash≫ Seems irritated ❤≪Dante≫ Seems to be having fun

Person: I’ll finish off the old man first then

Arcana: How much do they know…

Daily: …They’re not bad

Arcana: I’ll hammer the Family’s way into his head

Pain: He won’t find the answer alone

Person: His fighting style makes use of his youth

Dante: You’ve noticed then?

>Don’t lose, Dante

(+10 Amore)

>I know you’ll win, Dante

(+20 Amore)

>Take care of the rest…

(No Amore)

Dante: I’ll answer to you by claiming victory

Dante: There’s nothing happier than knowing someone believes in you

Dante: Hearing you say that is my greatest weapon

Dante: Yes. Leave it to me, Ojou-san!

❤≪Dante≫ Seems concerned ❤≪Dante≫ Seems concerned ❤≪Dante≫ Seems concerned

Link: I’ll teach him that he won’t find the answer alone

Daily: It’s best to experience pain while you’re still young

Link: She believes in me…

Arcana: I’ll hammer the way Ojou-san and I do things into his head

Person: Mere words won’t get through to him at his age

Daily: I’ll show my strength

Dante: Here I go!

(*clang)

Ash: Not bad, old man

Dante: You also seem to be handling your Tarocco well even though you just got it

Dante: So it’s true that the Tarocco choose their masters!

Dante: Hah!!

(*whish) Ash: I won’t let you!

(*crash)

Ash: *panting*…!

Dante: You’re done? How disappointing

Ash: Who said I was done?

Dante: You sound…just like one of our young ones. Maybe you’d like a match with him?

Ash: Whoever you mean, I’m still stronger!

Dante: Hahaha! Try saying that to Liberta. It’ll make things interesting

Ash: So what!

Joshua: …It affects me greatly to hear others speak so nonchalantly

Felicita: !

(*shing) Felicita: …

Joshua: Girl who wields knives. Perhaps you know?

>Could you be…

>Stay away

Joshua: I feel comfortable beside you. Like I’m remembering the past…

Fukurota: Hoot…!

Joshua: Is this owl your friend? …She does not seem to like me

Felicita: !

~*Flashback: VF Hallway*~

Dante: If Joshua hadn’t left, I think you wouldn’t have been so lonely

Dante: He also had a Major Arcana. So he would have been a great escort and someone you could talk to

~*End Flashback*~

Joshua: Do you know who I am? Please tell me. What do I regret?

Joshua: If I know, then I can pass on peacefully

Felicita: …

~*Flashback: VF Deck*~

Dante: That settles it

Ash: …I haven’t lost

Dante: I wondered what you would say…

Felicita: …

Dante: That man—

Ash: Joshua!

Dante: Does he know the pain he caused those he left behind…I should give him a piece of my mind

Ash: Another lecture? But wait, you know Joshua, old man?

Dante: I’ve only heard of him. I never met him in life

Dante: I didn’t realize it when we ran into him earlier. But I saw the records in the ship’s log

Dante: He’s one of the dead. And a special case…

Ash: …Yeah. A passenger unlike any we’ve had before

Dante: I had my suspicions based on when he boarded Vascello Fantasma

Dante: The souls on this ship all have regrets, but they have no memory of them

Dante: He was willing to sacrifice something very important…in order to cling to his only hope

Dante: That was the family he left behind…

Ash: Hey…did my dad really write all that in his logbook?

Dante: Hm, half of it was my conjecture, but it looks like I have my answer

Ash: You tricked me, old man!

Dante: Don’t yell, you brat

Dante: Hm!? Something’s wrong…

Dante: Get away from Ojou-san!

❤≪Dante≫ Seems confused

Arcana: The power of the Tarocco is interfering!?

Person: If he really is “that Joshua”…

Dante: Joshua…

Dante: Right now, your family is something I’ve sworn to protect—

Dante: And they are my future!

❤≪Dante≫ Ojou-san

Link: Ojou-san and Liberta are both part of my life

Pleasure: The time we spent together was real

Dante: Are you…the one who…knows of…my family, and child?

Dante: Yes, I’m…the one who raised him

>He taught me a lot too

(+10 Amore)

>Look at me, and you’ll know there’s nothing to worry about

(+20 Amore)

>I think he grew up properly

(No Amore)

Dante: …Ojou-san

Dante: You’re the one who’s always teaching me

Dante: It’s strange. At some point, our positions became reversed

Dante: Hahaha!

Dante: That confidence comes from me too, right?

Dante: It’s like I’m being supported by your trust…

Dante: Yes. Your approval means the most to me

Dante: As a mentor who’s close to you, it really feels like you stand with me

❤≪Dante≫ Seems concerned ❤≪Dante≫ Seems concerned ❤≪Dante≫ Seems concerned

Link: Her trust is the best I could have gained

Person: I won’t make excuses to you anymore

Link: I won’t make excuses to you anymore

Pleasure: I can see the strength of your will in your eyes

Love: Nothing makes me happier

Person: I won’t run away using excuses anymore

Link: I was useful being one of the people who raised you

Dante: Thank you, Ojou-san

Felicita: Yeah

Dante: Are you satisfied, Joshua?

Joshua: Yes. I understand when I look at you two. …I can see that my son has grown up well…

Dante: What? The sky suddenly…

Joshua: …I no longer have any regrets…—As if I wouldn’t. “Wheel of Fortune”…!

Dante: The fog has gotten thicker…! Ojou-san!

Dante: Ojou-san!?

Ash: Joshua!

Dante: There’s no sign of them… Did the fog take them somewhere?

Ash: That…wasn’t Joshua. He can’t keep his sense of self even during the day now…?

Dante: That means we’re running out of time… Ash, take me to them

Ash: Don’t order me around. When did I become your lackey?

Dante: Can you really say that? Have you forgotten the results of our battle?

Dante: And with our problems, we need all the help we can get

Ash: …Hah, you really think I’ll listen to you? How naïve

Dante: I feel like I’ve heard…no, said that before

Ash: What? Aren’t we going?

Dante: I’d hurry without you telling me! Let’s go, Ash!

~*End of Scene*~

Special Voice obtained. It can be heard in the Profile section

(Continue to Dante Chapter 5)

(Back to Directory)

#dante #arcana famiglia #vascello fantasma no majutsushi #chapter 4 #solar translations #psp game #translation #releases

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theatrelove3000 · 4 years

Text

The Next 4000 Years

Hello Friends! This isn’t one of my best or favorite works but it seems important to put out for some reason? It’s just an explanation for a singular line that I wrote in A Proclivity to Protection about Noelle’s new immortality. This is just explaining how she got it. It isn’t very well written, kind of rushed through, but I haven’t had a lot of time on my hands recently, seeing as my job decided I need to work every single day until I’m in so much pain that I cry with every step I take. BUT THAT ISN’T IMPORTANT! THE IMPORTANT THING IS I WOKE UP THIS MORNING AND WROTE THIS CRAPPY STORY THAT I HAVE DECIDED IS GOOD ENOUGH TO SHARE!

So anyway. Onward!

Background: Noelle and Loki were “Bound” by a witch in Alfheim after a battle they fought in. This means that the witch split each of their souls in half and one half switched places. Noelle has half of Loki’s soul and vice versa. They can feel each other's emotions and hear each other's thoughts. Noelle is also Half Asgardian, half Midgardian. Her father is Tyr and her mother is of Midgard.

Summary: Noelle and Loki argue about Noelle’s mortality.

Warnings: Maybe swearing? Probably swearing. I don’t remember. It is mostly fluffiness and mention of aging.

The Next 4000 Years

Noelle PoV:

"Loki we need to have this discussion."

"I do not want to have it right now."

"That sucks because if we don't talk about it now, we never will and you know it." I stand in front of him with my hands on my hips.

He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why do we suddenly have to have this conversation at this very moment. What has changed in the last 3 weeks since we last spoke of it?"

I close my eyes and lower my hands. "Loki, I'm going gray. My hair is graying already and I'm not even thirty! Not to mention that I'm starting to recognize my own mortality."

Loki's eyebrows pull together. "So you really want to take on the commitment of immortality? It's not as wonderful as it seems."

"Easy for the immortal god to say." He opens his mouth to argue but I don't give him time, "and besides, we both know that I only get about a hundred years. You get thousands. What will you do when I'm old and gray? What will you do when I die? Just off yourself? Run away and hide in seclusion just like you did before? That's not okay with me."

He stops, taken aback. "I can't stomach the thought of you dying, Noelle. That's why I don't want to talk about this."

"Then do the spell. I know you found it because Thor told me and he may be less than intelligent but he's not a liar."

"I never lie to you. I learned that lesson years ago." His face turns angry.

"I'm not saying that you lie to me. I'm saying that he was more likely to tell me about the spell than you were." He looks down at the floor. "Please, Loki. We promised each other our whole lives. I can't bear the thought of leaving you, which is why I'm asking you to do this." I take a step closer to him, hands finding his crossed arms.

"I suppose you did vow to love me for my whole life. How can you do that if you are not in my life?" He takes a deep breath before unfolding his arms and taking my left hand. He slides my wedding ring off and stops my protests with his mouth on mine. "It is necessary for the spell." He whispers against my lips.

And then he is gone. Vanished without a trace. I groan and flop down on the couch, opening my book. There is a little knock on the door and I yell that the door is open.

In runs little Morgan with Peter not far behind her. They are giggling like little school girls and hide behind the couch. I lean over to find Pete with his hand over Morgan’s mouth and a finger to his own to tell me not to acknowledge them. I furrow my brow but turn back to my book.

A few seconds later, a fuming Tony who is covered in pink glitter sprints in. I start cracking up because The Iron Man is creating sunspots on the floor and ceiling of my apartment.

He glares at me and growls, "Where are they?"

I do my best to look innocent, "Who?"

"My wonderful children, who are going to regret the glitter canon that they set up to launch at me when I walked into my lab today."

I am crying from the laughter and Tony is shaking with anger. I hear a giggle from behind the couch but Tony is already gone. I close and lock the door behind him. The kids pop up laughing hysterically and I put a silencing charm over the apartment so Tony doesn't come back. "What did you guys do that for?" I ask them, amused.

"He told us that we could never surprise him with a prank or anything so we decided to prove him wrong!" Peter explains. I smirk and high five them both.

I keep them with me until around dinner time. Loki still hasn't arrived home yet. Morgan asked me where he was and I told her that he was out on errands. She wouldn't understand the situation. So I feed the kids and send them on their way.

It's not until the next morning that Loki returns. I fell asleep on the couch waiting for him to come back, the remote still in my hand. I am awoken by lips on my forehead and a hand on my cheek. I open my blue eyes to Loki's green ones, complete with dark circles. He didn't sleep last night. I trace my fingers over the bags and he smiles a little at me before lifting me bridal style and carrying me to bed.

I wake up later in the morning with my head on his chest, his arms around my waist. I open my eyes and look up to see his are already open, as usual. The bags are gone though, so he must have gotten a little sleep.

"Good morning, Little Dove." He whispers, kissing my nose.

"Good morning, Loki." I hum back. We lay there for a few more minutes before getting up.

"Coffee?" He hands me a warm mug.

"This is why I love you." I say and take a sip.

He chuckles and sits down across from me at the table, "Is that the only reason?"

"Obviously," I grin and run my fingers along his arm, "Your coffee is the best."

"You wound me, my love." He laughs, taking my hand in his.

We are silent for a moment before I ask him, "So when can I get my ring back?"

He smirks, "Later. Though I must tell you, darling, it truly thrills me that you are so anxious to have it back. That you are so attached to it." He kisses my fingers where my ring should be.

"Of course I'm attached. It's linked to you." He smiles and kisses me deeply. As he moves to my neck, I mutter, "And it's also sparkly so it's fun to wear." He chuckles against my neck and pulls away. He goes to take a shower and I finish my breakfast. After showering and changing my clothes, Loki and I went to the mission briefing. This is another big one so it took longer than it normally does.

The briefing finishes and Loki drags me out of the tower to go on a walk. Since it hasn't been too long since the three month mission he went on with Thor in Niflheim and we have had so many missions since then that we haven't had much time to go out. That's all he wanted: to be outside, happy to have the sun shining on him again. We walk around the park, my hand held in the crook of his elbow, his fingers playing with mine.

We are strolling through central park when we find a tree that looks almost exactly like the one we used to sit and read under in Asgard. He grins at me and pulls me over to sit under it, his back to the trunk with me between his legs, facing away from him, back to chest.

We sit quietly, basking in each other for a while. He breathes deeply and starts to speak softly in my ear. "About four years ago, you asked me while I sat rotting in that cell under the palace of Asgard if I would give you the next seventy years."

I turn my head towards him, he is looking down at me. I stare into pure green emeralds and smile at him. The corner of his lips curl up slightly and he continues, "I told you I would kill for you. I would destroy realms for you. But your kind heart would never ask such displays of me. Therefore, I will kiss you, hold your divine curves close to me, and trace threads of icy fire on your skin with my fingertips. You were and are my craving and my desire. My love and my life are yours. I intend to stand by that answer."

He kisses my forehead and I reciprocate by kissing his jaw. "With that said, I have a query for you, my only love." He shifts his body so he is facing me more, our bodies no longer pressed so closely together. I cup his cheek and he leans into my touch, seemingly lost in it. He kisses my wrist before I let my hand shift into his soft black curls.

"What is it?" I whisper.

"Will you give me the next four thousand years?" He raises his hand that was resting on my hip and shows me my ring. It looks exactly the same but the energy from it is far stronger than before.

I smile at him and kiss him deeply. He sighs and tilts his head slightly to deepen the kiss. When we break away for air, I whisper a yes to him and he slips the ring back onto its rightful place on the third finger of my left hand. I feel the magic work through my body the second he let's go of it, his hands moving to my face, kissing my forehead again. The power coursing through my body takes my breath away.

As suddenly as the magic surge appeared, it was gone again, leaving me completely breathless. Even though I am happy about getting what I want, I am anxious. It is weird, why am I so anxious?

Loki notices my panting and pulls me into his lap, resting my head and hand on his chest, helping me breathe. His fingers ran through my hand as he murmured to me in Old Norse. I listened to his heart and breathing and voice, which calms me incredibly quickly.

"Immortality is a hard burden to bear." He tells me.

"It's worth it to stay with you for eternity." I say back, kissing him again.

He chuckles as he pulls back. "I agree."

"Four thousand years?"

"Four thousand years." He brings my lips back to his.

#loki fanfic #loki x ofc #loki x noelle #loki x avenger #loki fluff #loki and the avengers #avengers! loki #the avengers are a family

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erintoknow · 4 years

Text

everything and nothing

Spiraling - A Fallen Hero: Rebirth Fan-fiction

Funding a one-woman revenge mission isn’t cheap. You might work for free but Rosie doesn’t. Or Mortum. Or Marcie. The list goes on. [Feed Me Diamonds]

[Read on AO3]

It was the incident at Joes that gave you the initial idea: you need money to fund your operation. And where is flush with – conveniently untraceable – funds, but Los Diablos’s criminal underground?

Using Jane’s luck to gamble your way through the casino circuit would be suicide. She’d end up in a ditch or worse. But you don’t need to. You’ve got a state-of-the-art power armor suit.

In a way, it’s a return to the old days, to being Sidestep. You could never manage to hold down a job back then, but the guilt over skimming kept you from being able to afford much of anything. So, you know, occasionally when busting a villain’s lair or rounding up drug dealers, maybe some of their funds were… misplaced. It was either that or starve.

Or worse, admit your situation to somebody and ask for help.

But it wasn’t really stealing, was it? The money was probably wrongfully gotten to begin with. And it’s not like the city paid vigilantes.

Whatever. You were stealing the whole time. You can admit it to yourself now. It doesn’t matter who it was from. It was still theft. You’ve always been a liar and a fraud. Those last moments before throwing yourself out a fourth-story window crystalized it for you. People lauding Sidestep as some sort of ‘hero’ when she was barely any better than the people she beat up. She just stuck to the government approved list of acceptable targets.

But if you did it before, you can do it again. You know who the real villains are, and it’s not Larry Ray selling weed at the corner of Market Street.

Once more now, with feeling.

Check the seal on your helmet. The Rat-King curls around you. Paul Howard Koch’s penthouse is in the heart of the city. Technically not inside the bounds of Los Diablos proper itself. More a richie-rich enclave. Great view, above the air pollution, slightly less likely to die in a horrific one-two earthquake/tsunami punch.

To his neighbors on the floors above and below, Mr. Koch is a reclusive retired businessman who made his fortune in the early days of the chaos following the establishment of the Free Economic Zone over southern California. Back when anything really did fly.

And maybe there’s a truth in that.

Or maybe he’s just a self-hyped boost with magnetic powers with the audacity to hide in plain sight who robbed a bunch of banks and also maybe the Rangers HQ one time and okay okay fine, maybe there’s an element of revenge to tonight, so what?

Start with the small ones.

Work your way up.

Getting inside is easy enough. It reminds you of Marconi’s mansion that way. Amazing how much security is just theatre. Wall? Climb over. Guards? Walk between the patrols. CCTV? Oh, what a shame, the woman watching fell asleep at her desk, and oh, the whole system needs to be rebooted now? Technology these days, tsk tsk.

The building doesn’t even have dampeners.

Closing the door to the camera room, you let your hand linger on the doorknob. It takes some finesse to control the Nanovores this tightly but you’re able to collapse the mechanism. They’ll have to break the door down.

You’ve got two targets today. Koch, and his fortune. You know where Koch is. He’s up in his bedroom, half-asleep watching TV. Play the right notes, and he’ll stay that way until you need him.

So, then, where’s the goods?

It’s been, what, a decade since Pennybags was active. Had a big spree robbing banks, culminating in an attack on Rangers HQ. You were – Sidestep was still pretty new to the scene, but even she knew it took some guts to pants the Rangers like that. And then he was never heard from again.

Almost have to admire the restraint of the man. To realize he peaked and it was time to get out. Can’t say it’s an example you intend to follow.

The penthouse is a split-level deal. Whole lot of empty space for a man who lives alone. The second floor and you find his office. Very fancy looking computer. And of course, there’s the password in the middle drawer. Man’s gotten lax. You plug in a USB stick as you log in. Search through the files. Records, transactions. Looks like Mr. Koch has been busy in his ‘retirement.’ Blackmail material? Not the pile of cash you were aiming for but it’s something to start with. Another crack in the city’s shell. Another point of attack.

One file name catches your attention: Regenerator sale? It’s been awhile since you’ve gotten a lead on that name, and here it is. Just waiting for you. Opening the file and it’s a text document. At first glance there doesn’t seem to be much you don’t already know. PharmaCore, shut down by the government, confiscated, then ‘vanished.’ Oh, here’s something new: an actual description of what it does…

Ugh. There’s no time to stand here and parse all this. You copy everything that looks even remotely promising and move on to the rest of the room.

An oddly spaced bookshelf, by the window, draws your attention. Push the texts away and there’s a safe. Have to smile at that. At least it’s not behind a portrait. The metal melts into dust under the Nanovores and you’re free to reach inside. A gun, some rolled up hundred dollar bills and a collection of black unmarked USB looking bits of plastic and silicon.

Jackpot.

DS Chips. Or ‘Dark Script’ if you want to be wordy. Criminal computer scientists are disappointingly lacking in imagination. Physical bills can be traced by serial number, and digital transactions through bank and credit systems. Cryptocurrencies like these DS chips are the current fashion du jour for avoiding surveillance.

The exchanges aren’t cheap, and Hollow Ground keeps a tight grip on Los Diablos’s little corner. But attach a ‘wallet’ to a specific chip and you carry thousands of dollars in a little box of plastic and silicone smaller than your palm.

That’s business sorted then.

Time for the pleasure half.

When you reach the bedroom, you don’t need to kick the door in. The hinges disintegrate into dust and it falls over, all on it’s own. The crash against the floor breaks Koch out of his stupor. With a cry of alarm he scrambles to his feet, tripping on his own night robe.

“Evening, Pennybags.”

“Who the blazes let you in here?” His heart is pounding. Scenarios running through his mind. Scrambling for an answer. Really? You’d have expected someone a little more paranoid.

You fold your hands behind your back. Nod towards the door. “I did.”

He narrows his eyes, not seeing the humor. Oh well, his loss.

You’re on him before he can even finish his thought about using his power on you. Is enough of the suit metal for it to be a problem? You’re not sure and you’d rather not find out. His head cracks against the wall as you shove him up off the ground with an arm against his neck.

You tap your head. “Don’t even think about it.”

He doesn’t stop struggling. Bare feet kicking against your armor. Up close he doesn’t look as old as you pictured. Bald, sure. But… how old is he? Maybe he just has one of those faces. “You’re–” He wheezes, “you’re going to regret this.”

He’s already plotting your death. Cute. Have to laugh. “I’ll add it to the list.”

...now what are you going to do?

Maybe you should have thought of that before barging in here.

You press against his neck a little harder. Not enough to choke him, but to give you some room to think.

“Alright… Here’s what’s going to happen,” You growl, lacing your words with a telepathic push. An urgency to be followed.

It’s not mind control, not technically.

Just a push.

You’re not even going to make him jump out a window.

–––

You don’t need to hear the stomping of boots in the hallway to know your time is almost up. You drop Koch to the floor. “Consider what we’ve talked about tonight.” Walking over to his desk, you rip off a piece of his day planner and turn it over. Write out the list of instructions.

Three simple suggestions. They’re in his own best interest, really.

You return to him, holding the paper out to take. He hesitates so you reach into his mind and give him a push before stepping away. By the time the riot police show up the scrap paper is gone, inside his pocket. You watch the police fill the other end of the room, shields up and guns drawn. The idiots. They’ll kill Koch if they shoot like this.

You don’t see or sense any of the Rangers.

That’s fine with you, if maybe a little strange. The man in charge steps forward, hand on the trigger finger. “Ghost, you’re under arrest. We have you surrounded.” You don’t need to read his mind to know from the look on his face and the way he’s holding his gun that he’s seriously regretting coming in to work tonight. What does the LDPD think they’re doing? They’re no match for you. Sure, you aren’t immune to bullets, but when has that ever stopped you?

You reach out to the captain’s mind and coax him to lower his gun before he sets off the whole room. “Ghost?” You fake a laugh, the distortion hollowing it out, then say innocently, “Don’t know anyone by that name.”

You crouch down, bracing yourself, placing a hand on the floor. You’ll only have a second before the tension of the situation wakes them up again. “More of a Banshee.” There’s a moment where it seems like nothing is going to happen and then the Nanovores eat a hole in the floor directly beneath you, dropping you down. You grunt, letting the armor absorb most of the shock, though the landing still plays hell on your knees. Going to regret that in the morning.

Above you the room erupts in shouts of alarm and someone fires their gun, setting off another gunshot, then another. You grimace in frustration and, telepathically reach back up to give them a metaphorical shake of the shoulders. You can’t have them killing your new informant.

You break into a run, following your thread to the nearest elevator shaft and breaking the door open with a mixture of force and Nanovores. As you make your escape sliding down the elevator cable you can’t help humming a few bars aloud as you try to steady your nerves.

The chittering of the Rat-King creates an accompaniment in the back of your head.

It’s getting scary just how comfortable with this life you’re starting to get.

Hitting the basement level you barely manage to clear the doors when Lady Argent is on you, all knives and quicksilver. Her claws dig into your arm before you’re able to get her to back off with an uppercut to the head. Argent flexes her jaw and gives you a predatory grin. “I had a feeling I’d find you down here Ghost.”

You study her face, waiting for a sign of any sudden movement. Getting out predicted like this is embarrassing but you need to save the over-analysis for when a woman capable of opening you up like a can-opener isn’t staring you down. You’ve got to reassert control of the situation. You make sure to put an edge to your voice, “It’s Banshee now. If you’re going to play lap dog, at least remember to fill in the incident report form correctly this time.”

Her eyes widen and then Argent leans down, her grin deepening into a scowl. “Ugh. I don’t care,” and she moves in.

Can feel your heart in your throat as the two of you exchange blows. When you try to slide past her, Lady Argent is ready for you, raking claws against the side of your armor, trying to find a point of purchase to pry you apart. Grab her wrist and pull her down on top of you. It’s a stupid move, and you pay for it with razor filings running down your sides but because it’s stupid she doesn’t expect it and you’re able to knee her in the gut and kick her away.

You hate fighting Argent in enclosed spaces like this. It’ll be a game of attrition as to whether you can get away before she can land a clean hit. The two of you are back to circling each other when you bump up against a support pillar.

Maybe….? You mentally check your map.

You’ll need to stall Argent. “So, what was your plan, if I went a different route?” As you talk you rest your hand on the concrete pillar beside you, coaxing the Nanovores to get to work. “Not a good look, hiding in a basement.”

Lady Argent narrows her eyes, “The Handyman’s watching the front door.”

“He’s out of the hospital now?” You sigh. “Are you really that eager to put him back in there?”

There’s a shark-toothed grin and the distinct feeling that she’s sizing you up. “You’re awfully concerned for being the bastard that put him there.”

“Healthcare’s not cheap in this city. Should we hold a fundraiser for him?” You give a theatrical flip of your free hand. “Any suggestions?” Too flippant? You’re never really sure how to approach Argent.

There’s always the temptation; in the back of your head. Let her know who you are, what you’ve done. See if she’ll kill you. But you always end up holding back. Why is that? You don’t understand yourself.

“My only ‘suggestion’ is bringing you to justice.” She keeps her focus trained on you, ready for the moment you make a move. Part of you is surprised she’s still letting you talk. Is backup on the way? That’s not Argent’s style.

“That’s a good thought about justice.” You rap your armored fingers against the pillar, testing to see if it’s hollowed out yet. “But who gets to decide what justice is?”

Would Argent feel bad, if she did kill you? Or would it just make things worse for her? How do you atone for something like this? Is revenge justice? Is it really enough to just make someone hurt?

You used to be sure.

“I liked you better when you didn’t talk.”

You tsk. “Oh and now you’re hurting my feelings?” You can’t keep operating like this. Need to compartmentalize better. Remember the goal. Remember revenge. The damage to Argent is done. Don’t fuck this up and make it be in vain.

Argent eyes your hand, still pressed to the pillar, and growls. “What are you up to?”

“Are you talking about, in general or just right now?” You smirk under your helmet. “Care to find out?” You push hard against the concert. The stone breaks like glass and the ceiling sags from the sudden lack of support, tiles crashing down around you. You jump backwards as the ceiling starts to give in.

No time for any last-minute taunts. You book it for the sewer entrance before Argent can realize the whole building isn’t going to collapse.

In the back of your head, she's still there, watching through the dust.

Smile like a shark.

Reminding.

---

“So, this isn’t what I had planned on talking about; but you’ll never guess what happened last night.” Ortega looks at you, leaning in, an edge to her smile. The two of you are meeting for an early lunch before heading up to the Children’s Hospital again.

You’d half a mind to order something alcoholic, but resisted. Instead, you’re watching Ortega over the rim of your milkshake, straw in your mouth. “Mm?”

“You remember Pennybags?”

You drum the side of the glass with your fingers, making a show of thinking back. “The magnetic guy?”

Ortega nods. “Yeah. Big bank robber, stole a bunch of things from the old Rangers HQ too, remember?”

You nod, grimacing. “Yeah, that was a mess.” Of course you remember. One of the few times you had actually seen Julia really upset. The first time actually. Didn’t know what to do, how to handle it. Ortega was always so confident, so in control of herself and the situation all the time. And there she was, tears and snot yelling at cardboard boxes about failing and… you did the only thing you could think of to do.

“Well, did you see the news this morning?” Ortega’s excitement pulls you back to the present. She leans in further over the table.

You sit back, shaking your head. “I was a little busy last night.” You wince, “This morning. I mean. Uh.” Shit shit shit. “Well. Both? Long night. Working.” You shrug, try to keep your face blank.

Ortega tilts her head, side-eyeing you. “Yeah, I still need to ask you about that job of yours.” She waves it off with a hand. “Anyway, Banshee made a mess again. North end of Beverly Hills this time.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Was anyone hurt?” You bite your lip, looking away. “Did… um. Did anyone else…?”

You know Banshee didn’t kill anyone last night. But…

Don’t breathe, don’t relax until Ortega shakes her head, “One guy had some minor injuries, but that’s it.”

Oh thank god. “That’s a relief.” You match Ortega’s smile, swipe a fry from the basket in front of her.

“I’m more convinced than ever that Marconi’s murder was something else.”

“That’s…” You look away, watch the window, fingers worrying the fry in your hand. Shit. What do you say to that? Fuck fuck fuck. “If you say so.” You look back at her. Need to push this conversation along before she can think about that response. “So, uh, are you just this excited that no one was hurt or did the Rangers finally bring Banshee in, or – or what?”

“No, they got away. Again.” Ortega gives you a curious look, eyes flickering down to the fry in your hand and then back up to your face. With an air of deliberate purpose, you put the fry in your mouth. She politely doesn’t say anything.

“So then…?”

“You’ll never guess.”

You shrug, steal another fry. “Okay.”

She frowns. “Don’t be a spoilsport.”

You keep your face blank, only raising an eyebrow as you silently eat your ill-gotten prize.

“Fine.” She huffs. “The guy Banshee attacked, the one that had to go to the hospital… It’s Pennybags. Bastard was hiding under our noses the whole time.”

“Money’s a pretty good cover.”

“Believe me, I’m wildly aware.” The tired expression on Ortega’s face is only there for a brief second and then it’s gone. “He practically turned himself in. It was… kind of creepy, actually. Reading the report.”

You swallow, goosebumps on the back of your neck. “Creepy?”

“Like he felt… compelled.” Ortega jabs a fry in your direction. “You’re the expert, what do you think? Can telepathy force a confession like that?”

“Ortega…” You make yourself meet her eyes. “You’re as much of an expert as me, at uh, at this point. M–maybe more.”

“Maybe.” She meets your gaze. “But I want to know what you think.”

Goddamnit, why does she keep doing this?

You focus on the basket of fries instead, it’s safer. “It’s… possible.” You concede. Would it be better to lie? It already feels like you’re lying about so much. It’s better to minimize the amount of bullshit you have to keep track of. “How are you… sure it’s a confession, and not like… uh, a delusion or something? False suggestion?”

“Yeah, that’s fair. That was my first assumption but uh…” She lowers her voice. “We uh, we found some stuff when searching the apartment. The signed Marshall Hood figure Pennybags stole actually…”

“Oh.” You say. You hadn’t expected her to actually talk about this.

“I… don’t really have a lot left of him. I thought I’d lost that one for good.”

“I remember.” You remember seeing the front door of its hinges, running through wrecked room after room, finding an alarmingly sobbing Ortega.

The first time you willingly hugged someone.

“There’s maybe five people who know about that figure, Ari, and two of them are dead now.” Ortega’s voice is quiet, her hand on the table balled into a fist.

“Do…” You fish for an idea, “do you think they’re trying to send you a message?”

Ortega looks you straight in the face, half-eaten hamburger now completely forgotten. You wish she wouldn’t. “A message? For what?”

You look back, willing yourself not to look away, not to look guilty. “I don’t know… I mean, it’s no secret you and Hood were close, is it?”

The look on Ortega’s face only intensifies. “You think maybe it was a threat?”

Your face blanches, and you shake your head. This is not at all going how you thought it would. “I’m not in this game anymore, remember?” You shrug your shoulders theatrically, “for all I know it could be a love letter.” You freeze. Face threatening warmth. Oh god. What the fuck, Ariadne?

The absurdity of the idea gets a laugh out of Ortega and you both relax. “Mierda,” she shakes her head. “That’s a hell of a way to send a letter.”

You steal another fry. She lets you.

#fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero fanfic #fanfiction #fhr/Ariadne

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