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actual-bill-potts · 1 year

Note

I’ll second that Finrod’s hunting trip with Maedhros and Maglor ficlet ask, if that one resonated at all with you (if it didn’t, please just disregard this haha). I’d be really curious to see what you did with that!

Many thanks to you and @melestasflight for the wonderful prompt! This fic fought me every step of the way, but I'm at least reasonably happy with it, so I'm just going to go ahead and post it. I hope you enjoy!!

By the time he reached Himring, Finrod was weary to his bones.

He had set out from Nargothrond to visit Doriath; since being allowed back beyond the threshold of the fenced realm, he had made the journey as often as he could spare the time. He yet had hope that Thingol and his Queen could be softened towards the rest of the Noldor, and in any case his sister and her betrothed dwelt there, and he missed her company and wisdom dearly.

Often Finrod found nothing but peace and joy in the court of Doriath, for despite his grudge against the Noldor Thingol was kind and wise in the ways of the forest, Melian was generous with counsel and teaching, and their daughter Lúthien - now nearly full-grown - loved to hear about Nargothrond, and told him in return many merry stories of her latest escapades.

But this visit had brought dark tidings, and with it concern for his cousins in the North. It seemed that strange creatures had been sighted north and east of Doriath, and that some had managed to make it nearly past the Girdle by some yet-unknown sorcery. None knew what type of beast they were, exactly, only that several of the outermost marchwardens had been found with their throats torn out, and survivors with little memory of the events besides shining green eyes and a sense of dread.

"I recalled all of my guards immediately further within the Girdle, of course," Thingol had said, "for my lady wife assured me that nothing has passed fully through, and that they cannot match her power."

Finrod had made a bow towards Melian, but then said, "my King, would it not be worthwhile to take a company out beyond the Girdle, and hunt down these things? I myself would be more than happy to assist or even to lead the effort, if it would be of use - those beyond your borders may not yet be aware of the threat -"

Thingol’s face had darkened. "You will not lead any of the Sindar into danger!" he had snapped, before softening his tone. "You are valiant, nephew, and I do not fault your softness of heart - but beyond our realm are those who slaughtered my kin and burned the works of their hands. I will not spend the lives of my people in defense of such, when without loss we may remain in safety here. I advise you to do the same, until the danger is passed," he had added; but Finrod had refused as politely as he could, and left that day to ride to Himlad.

He was sick at heart, for if the knowledge of such danger to the Noldor who dwelt by his borders would not move Thingol, what would? He was reminded forcibly of the tensions of his childhood: Vanya in face, Noldo in body, followed by whispers no matter where he went; expected to laugh at Noldor gaudiness in Alqualondë and Telerin flightiness in Tirion. This was the same, but deadly serious, and he did not know how to resolve it; he had not been able to gracefully walk that line even in Aman, and now so many lives rode on his ability to do so here. Even Galadriel was no help, for she had thoroughly repudiated her Fëanorian cousins and advised him to do the same. She had been born late, long after everyone but the twins, and so did not have many memories to set against the terrible sight of blood on sand and distant flame. She had not grown up with Maglor as a merry third in her games; she had not gone running to Maedhros for advice or comfort; she had never seen the expression of mingled joy and desolation upon Finwë’s face when he looked at Celegorm, the child who in face and body was Míriel come to life.

Pursued by such dark thoughts, Finrod had made his way quickly to Himlad, where he found Celegorm and Curufin away at Amon Ereb. He had warned their seneschal of the tidings from Doriath, and without stopping had gone on to Himring. After all, if anyone would have an idea as to the identity of Morgoth’s new creatures, it would be Maedhros.

Now Finrod sat in the great keep of Himring with Maedhros and Maglor - who was, apparently, visiting; so social, the Fëanorians! - weary and heartsick.

"These are ill tidings, Cousin," Maglor said at last, "and we will arrange a hunt for these beasts as soon as we may. The power to nearly breach the Girdle: that is alarming indeed. For now, though, you should rest and eat. I’m sure Maedhros has a room prepared for you already; we sighted you several hours ago - Maedhros?"

Maedhros’ face was set, and his eyes were flaming. "Eyes of emerald, and terrible teeth…I know these beasts of yours, Cousin. They are nauror: gaurhothrim, it would be in Sindarin." He turned to Finrod, and Finrod nearly shrank back, so terrible was his expression. "He - Sauron - took fëar and forced them into the bodies of great starving wolves, with green eyes that screamed without sound. They had the power of untethered spirits, though they were bound to such terrible forms, and they could do - things -" he broke off, breathing heavily.

Maglor’s face was pale, but he asked, "Why then have we not encountered them long since?"

Maedhros laughed. It was not a happy sound. "They died, over and over. Fëar cannot escape Angband; but they revolted against their forms so wholly that the wolf-shapes were rent asunder, and the spirit left in tatters. Hardly useful. Sauron used to -" he pressed his lips together and did not continue.

"Then - these creatures are Eldar," Finrod said faintly.

"Aye. But slaying them will be no evil, if I am right," Maedhros said. "Death is the kindest gift in our power to offer."

He stood. "But my brother was right, earlier," he said, and it seemed that the great flame in his eyes was banked as he turned again to Finrod. The granite lines of his face softened near-imperceptibly. "You are weary, and I have had a room prepared. Go rest. You are welcome to join us in the great hall for dinner, or to send for a meal to your room, whichever seems best to you. I will leave at first light with my brother and a company of warriors. I advise you to delay your departure until our return, but if you must go, tell me and I will arrange for an escort."

"No - I wish to come with you!" Finrod protested. "I would not have my cousins ride into danger without me."

"Thingol’s reaction, should the King of Nargothrond fall in our company, does not bear thinking about," Maedhros said wryly. "It would not be wise."

Finrod set his jaw. "I can help," he said, and found he meant it. The thought of a spirit tethered so cruelly smote his heart. "I have learned much of songcraft from Melian the Maia: songs that can counter the necromancy of Sauron. Perhaps I can - at least ease the passing of these creatures."

"I sing, also," Maglor observed with a trace of humor, "and have faced the fruits of Sauron’s labors before, if in lesser bodies."

"Two voices will be better than one, surely," Finrod countered. He looked at Maedhros. "Please, allow me to accompany you."

Maedhros looked at him for a long moment. "Very well, Cousin," he said at last, "if only because I suspect it would be difficult to prevent you from following. You have the kindest heart of us all, I deem; and perhaps you will be able to do these nauror some mercy. I do not have it in me. We leave at dawn; be ready."

"If you find yourself too weary, do not come!" Maglor added. His sharp face was full of concern. "None will hold it against you."

"Thank you," Finrod said. He smiled at his cousins. "I will not let you down."

The next morning, refreshed in body if troubled in mind, Finrod rose before dawn and was ready in the courtyard when Maedhros and Maglor emerged. They were in light armor and leathers, as he was; and they were followed by a dozen grim-faced Elves.

Maedhros nodded at him; Maglor said, "Good morning!" and even offered a smile.

Finrod smiled back.

"I have procured a horse for you," Maglor said, gesturing to a beautiful roan he held beside the one he rode. "Your own horse needed more than a night of rest."

"Aye," Finrod agreed. "I thank you." He approached and stroked the mare’s nose. She whickered a greeting in return, and nosed his hair. "What is her name?"

"She is called Hirfindë," Maglor replied, laughing a little, "for as a filly she had a terrible habit of chewing on one’s tresses, no matter how tightly plaited."

Finrod looked down in some alarm; but Hirfindë was only sniffing, not chewing. "You have grown out of that habit, I trust?" he said aloud to her in amusement.

She whuffed, as if to say, of course.

There was a general rush of mounting and a flurry of orders from Maedhros; then the company passed through the great gate of Himring, going south and west towards Doriath.

The first day passed without event; Finrod strained all of his senses, but could not detect even a trace of the wrongness that signaled creations of their Enemy. By their expressions of frustration, Maedhros and Maglor did not have better luck. They did not stop that night, picking their way softly by the light of the stars; and by late afternoon of the second day they picked up a trail. The horses became nervous, shying at nothing; and sharp-eyed Maglor spotted the faint outline of a paw in the grass. But even without those signs, Finrod would have known that the creature was near. Despair was in the air. It was so thick he could nearly taste it, and had to set his will to prevent dark dreams from flashing before his waking eyes. I am sorry, he thought sadly to the creature, we will release you, if we can.

But despite the miasma that could be sensed by everyone in the party, the nauro - or nauror, Finrod supposed - proved elusive. The second day and night passed without success. Maedhros rode stone-faced at the head of their party, responding to Maglor’s tentative conversational sallies in monosyllables at best; Finrod tried to engage the rest of their party in conversation, but the other Elves were quiet and withdrawn, and in truth he himself found that talking sapped his energy more than he was accustomed to. The air felt heavy and filthy in his lungs.

But on the third day, they ran the creature to ground.

Maedhros was the first to spot it, of course: as the horizon faded from gold to blue at the start of the day, he sat forward suddenly and said: "There."

Finrod followed his gaze and caught the barest flash of grey bristle between trees.

"It will flee from us, I expect," Maedhros said, signaling for speed, "Its self-preservation instincts will be strong. We must run it to ground."

As he leaned forward to keep pace with his cousins, Finrod wondered for a moment why the creature was not stalking them in turn; then he remembered what Maedhros had said of the nauror in Himring, and felt abruptly sick. Doubtless any spirit successfully tethered in such a way would have had to be - warped, or changed, such that survival of the body became paramount over all other considerations. And indeed it continued to flee from them, until in the early afternoon they ran it to ground.

The first sign of such was Maedhros’ abrupt, "It is nearing the end of its strength; be wary." A short minute after, Finrod could sense it for himself: a thickening of the poison in the air, a sudden sense of weariness that dragged at his limbs. There was a stench, too, so close. Old sweat, rotting meat, traces of filth: the scent of a creature that did not wash itself, and cared for nothing but its own ravenous hunger.

Mingled pity and revulsion welled up in Finrod’s breast; he felt nauseous. By their expressions, Maedhros and Maglor’s chosen hunters were not doing much better. Maedhros and Maglor themselves were twin walls of impassivity, though if Finrod looked closely he could see faint lines of worry about Maglor’s mouth.

Following the smell, the sound of the nauro could be heard: it was crashing through underbrush, growling low in its throat.

As one, the hunters drew their bows. Maglor in the lead dropped back to Finrod, for their role would be as Singers only. Finrod tensed, every nerve alight with anticipation as he scanned the brush for the source of the heaving breathless growl - there! A flash of green in the shadows! - a hail of arrows whistled through the air and the terrible eyes winked out for a moment - then suddenly the Wolf with three arrows in its throat leaped upon Maedhros with a terrible gurgling roar. Elf and nauro rolled together from Maedhros’ horse, landing heavily upon the ground. Maedhros had his dagger out and was slashing grimly at the Wolf’s head with his left arm; his stump was driven into the nauro’s neck, forcing its jaws backwards. The creature was tearing up great clods of earth with its claws in its frenzy to get to Maedhros; the hunters had swords in hand and were approaching with faces set.

"Hold!" Maglor cried suddenly from behind, a clarion that filled Finrod’s ears and slowed everyone for a moment, even the Wolf, "I will Sing! Hold!"

He began a Song of sleep, which dragged Finrod’s eyelids down despite the warning. With an effort he shook himself and saw the archers about him doing the same. Only Maedhros seemed unaffected, grimly holding the Wolf off. Its struggles slowed slightly as Maglor sang, and Maedhros flipped it onto its back and plunged his dagger into its head.

Still it would not die, though it was bleeding from half-a-dozen arrow wounds and should have been killed instantly at Maedhros’ last blow. It whined once, short and sharp, and flung itself again onto Maedhros.

Watching it, Finrod felt sorrow well up in his throat. He thought of the Quendi who had loved their freedom under the stars, and found as their reward servitude without end to a cruel master. A song came unbidden to his lips: a song of traps broken, chains wrenched apart, the empty shackle upon Thangorodrim. After a moment he heard Maglor’s voice join with his own, deeper and more resonant.

The Wolf stood stock-still, panting terribly, its blood dripping to the ground; then as Finrod kept singing with Maglor, it wavered visibly and finally lowered to the ground. It was breathing heavily now, the sounds of an animal wounded to the death. For a moment it seemed to Finrod as if the nauro had two sets of eyes, one green and one silver; the green wolf-eyes were confused and terribly hungry, the silver eyes heavy with sadness and a relief so profound it was almost a pain of its own.

As they dimmed, both terrible eyes met his, and suddenly it seemed to Finrod that the Wolf spoke with a voice of spirit: well-met, master of illusions. Your teeth are sharp and your nails long. I thank you, freedom-bringer; and I am sorry.

Finrod blinked - master of illusions? - and suddenly in the time between one blink and the next he Saw -

eyes that were weary as the Eldar were never weary, looking into his own with love that seemed rooted in the very earth -

laughing beside a fire, with the owner of those selfsame eyes, the giggles and shrieks of children at play in the background: so many children! He had never seen so many even in Aman -

nut-brown locks and a bitter mouth, spitting wisdom angrily -

The same bitter mouth, now framed by white hair, hurling insults with fondness behind them -

Mud in his hair and his ears, caking his clothes, deep spreading pain in his shoulder and wetness following, creeping dread chased away by the low sound of horns that were familiar yet strange -

Dark stone, and chains, and green eyes that glittered feverishly in the dark, and his head resting on wasted legs as the breath whistled strangely from his chest -

Finrod came back to himself with a ragged gasp. He felt a shift in the air, a barrier melting away, and there was only a dead animal on the ground.

He had to go East. He felt it, the call of the vision. It could not be gainsaid, terrible as it was - and the love in those old-young eyes - and so many children -

Maedhros picked himself up off the ground and approached. "My thanks, Cousin!" he said, almost smiling. "Your skill with Song has grown greatly since last I heard you."

Finrod inclined his head and smiled in return. "Thank you for allowing me to accompany you," he said warmly. "But I fear I must depart."

"So soon!" Maglor exclaimed. "Why? There may be more of those creatures roaming about, and you must let us treat you to a full supper back at Himring -"

"Maglor makes very free with my hospitality," Maedhros interjected, "but he is quite right about the danger, and about the dinner too. What is the matter?"

"You needn’t worry," Finrod said almost gaily, "But no gaurhoth shall touch me yet. It is not my fate. I must go East," he added more soberly. "I have Seen it."

His cousins continued to protest; but he held firm, and at the last they yielded and sent him on his way with his borrowed mare, all the provisions they could spare, and kind words aplenty. He directed Hirfindë due East, and gave her her head.

Out in the open, wind against his face, cousins receding rapidly into the background, he was not sure whether to laugh or cry. Such a fate - such a fate! The joy - the love - the children! Not his own, but they loved him, and he them: he had felt it.

But no light at the last! It was terrible. Could anything be worth the creeping hopelessness he had felt, in the last seconds of the vision? He could turn around, go back to his cousins, leave Fate alone in the East. Perhaps she would not call a second time, and he could go forth in hope to an unknown ending.

But those eyes! He had never seen anything like those eyes! And the children!

"I will go, Hirfindë," he said aloud. "I cannot do otherwise."

As he rode towards Ossiriand, he thought he heard snatches of song on the wind: too deep to be Elvish, too fair to be Orcish, in a tongue he did not know. Who was singing? Such joy, in the bitter East!

He raised his own voice in answer.

#finrod #balan (in spirit)#maedhros #maglor #thingol #my writing #silm fic #the silmarillion #ok so I am aware this is like. comically different from the typical interpretation of their hunt #but like #personally I can’t see Maedhros the hypervigilant and paranoid going on a chill outing with his cousin #no matter how many years of peace they’d had #also me writing any fic abt finrod: how can I make this secretly abt bëor

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andysbubba · 3 years

Text

Loving you

Andy Barber x Gender neutral (?) reader

-> the one where you’re tired of andy’s igorance towards himself

Note: Angst diffusing into fluff, the typical andy-kitchen scene i used in my candlelight loving fic— except there’s no smut, ++ feedbacks welcomed as always! and reblogs and likes are more than appreciated <33

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Andy, baby. Will you please take a break?” You exasperatedly sigh when you see Andy still hovering over his desk in his study after the fifth time you told him to take some time to rest.

“I know, I know. Just a little more, honey. I’ll join you in bed in a bit, okay?” He only looked up at you for barely a second to reply before his eyes were back on the stacks of case studies and folders on his desk.

Truth be told, you were completely done with his bullshit.

You huff in frustration, rolling your eyes the slightest bit and muttering to yourself as you distanced yourself from Andy’s home office with full annoyance. “Fucking lawyers.”

Andy’s been fully hung up on work ever since one of his co-workers took a vacation off work just last week. Meaning that his already-extensive workload just got an upgrade. Also meaning that he’d drag his workload home and continue working his ass off in his study. Which really- there’s nothing wrong with your boyfriend being all diligent and assiduous.

But it really doesn’t seem all that glorifying when you’re the one having to deal with all his crap. You could’ve probably list down all the times he put fucking paperwork above you, and the list would probably have been as long as Article 1.

Unbeknownst to you, Andy caught onto what you said right before you left his study. He felt guilty, alright. All he’s done is to be a complete work-addict while you’re out there being the best lover one can ever ask for. And all he wants to do is to chase after you and apologize and stay in bed and order in pizza with you. But the never ending workload on his desk was the one thing keeping him away from having you all snug in his chest.

He shakes his head, eyes glancing back down at his work. He was beyond exhausted, the pot of coffee you made him and the hope that the earlier he wraps his work up, the earlier he can shower you with all the love you deserved, was his only motivation to keep reading though the files and trying to get as much work done.

You groggily rubbed your eyes as you tried to feel around the sheets for Andy. And honestly? You weren’t even surprised that he wasn’t there. It was 7 in the morning, and it was too early for Andy to be up if he actually went to sleep last night. You could only assume that he never even went to bed, no matter how much you wished otherwise.

You head out to his study, the door’s still opened as it was yesterday and the faint noise of keyboard clicking tells you that Andy’s still working inside.

“Babe?” You knocked on the wooden door, trying to get his attention.

Andy’s hunched in his seat, eyes switching between his laptop and the files from time to time as he typed. He glances up at you, just a little surprised.

“Did you get some sleep, honey?” You asked, even though you knew you’d only receive the answer you dreaded so much.

He glances at the digital clock on the wall, only realising that it’s been 6 hours since you last came in to check on him. He scratches the back of his neck as he shook his head and mentally cursed himself. “I—”

He considered lying, but he already felt as bad for leaving you to sleep alone the whole night and breaking his promise on joining you in bed. And knowing you, you’d probably see right through his lies anyway.

You sigh, shaking your head and disappointedly rubbing your face. “I swear to god, Andrew—” You turned away before you could allow yourself to get even more pissed at him. Which most probably would’ve been impossible.

Caffeine. God— caffeine sounds fucking amazing right now.

Andy’s beyond guilty. So much more than what he felt yesterday. And his heart burns when he sees you so disappointed and pissed at him. The kind of pain where it feels like it’s being crushed and squashed.

He didn’t even realise that he went a whole night of work without sleep. Nor did he realise the time. Or that he forgot to keep his promise to join you in bed. Or the fact that he never paid attention to you for more than 5 minutes in the last 10 hours. Or that he didn’t join you for dinner. Or— okay, the list is long alright. And Andy knows he’s hurt you- the one person who’s patient enough to deal with him and the one person he loves above anything else in the goddamn world.

He ditched his laptop and stood up. Stretching his legs and working out the kinks in his muscles.

Andy trailed behind your footsteps, leaving his study for the first time in almost a day. It really took you to be angry at him just to get him out of the study. Andy knows his sorry isn’t enough. And you truly deserved every right to be pissed at him.

You were sorting your morning tea out when he came into the kitchen. Andy couldn’t help but smile fondly at you- or rather, your back really. For goodness sake, Andy’s head over heels in love with you. With every inch of you from head to toe. It is truly indescribable.

He steps up behind you, arms wrapping around your shoulders, and his chin resting on the tiny area joining your shoulder and your neck.

“Hi, baby,” He pressed a soft kiss on where his chin was before.

He wasn’t surprised that you stayed silent and continued doing your own thing. He knows damn well he deserves the silent treatment, alright.

“Honey,” He trails off as his thumbs rubbed circles on both sides of your shoulder. “Talk to me please, baby.”

You let out a heavy sigh, unwilling to turn and look at him, but you knew stirring tea wasn’t enough to occupy the next 3 minutes of your life, let alone the next few hours.

Andy turns you around by your shoulders, one hand shifting your mug to the side so he doesn’t accidentally mess up more and end up spilling hot tea all over you. He picks you up by your sides and sets you down softly on the counter.

His head was around your chest level now. As much as Andy wanted to bury his head in your chest and stay there forever, he knows he has to say something because you definitely won’t say it first. He takes your hands in his, bringing it up to his lips and kissing your knuckles, his pretty blue eyes staring up at you the whole time.

One look and you know he’s sorry. His watery eyes bring you to that conclusion.

“I’m sorry, honey.” He sighs, guiltily holding your palm up to the side of his face. “I know I hurt you. I was just so focused on the case that I didn’t even realise I hurt you, baby. You deserve all the right to be mad at me and ignore me and- fuck. I really messed up, Y/n.”

Andy shakes his head, “I just thought that if I wrapped up all my work, I’d have more time with you.” He chuckles humourlessly. “I know what I did was wrong, baby. You gave me more than enough chances yesterday but I messed up every one and I left you.”

He glances into your eyes desperately, his hand gripping onto your palm on his cheek tightly. You know it’s a silent plea for you to respond and do that thing he loves about your touch.

You find yourself surrendering to his silent plea, and your thumb brushed the side of his face. Soft and repeatedly. The comfort it brought Andy was beyond words. He leaned into your palm, seeking more of your touch.

“You’ve been nothing but understanding and caring and I just kept on taking advantage of that.” Andy was grateful he had someone as amazing as you. “ I’m so sorry I hurt you, honey. I know I j- just completely left you alone— and shit, you don’t deserve that, my love.” The crack in his voice broke your resolve.

You breathed deeply, bringing your other palm up to the other side of his face. “Baby, you really don’t get it, do you?” You paused, searching his eyes before realising that Andy didn’t truly understand why you were upset in the first place. “Andy, everytime I came up to check on you— that was for you. I wanted you to get some rest, honey. You looked exhausted every single time I came in, and I hated that you just ignored your own health.”

“You skipped dinner, bub.” Your hands shifts down to the back of his neck, pulling him in closer. “All this overworking and sleepless nights— I just wish you’d take care of yourself more, Andy.”

Andy sighs, hands shifting down to your hips and he leans in, burying his head in the middle of your chest.

You felt his lips moving against your his shirt as he murmured. “I know, ‘m sorry.” Andy inhaled deeply, your natural, comforting scent piercing through his nose. “I missed you, bubba,”

You run a hand through his hair. “I missed you too, love.” You lean down and kissed the top of his head. “You wanna go wash up or get some rest while I heat up yesterday’s dinner?”

“Wanna stay just like this.” He mumbled into the fabric of your his shirt.

You laughed heartily, “Go nap on the couch, Barbie.” He pulls away from your chest. “Or at least, please go brush your teeth. I’ll fix up somethin’ for you.”

“And sleep with me after?” He arched a brow, and you took the time to scan over Andy’s face. He looks so fucking exhausted. The dark circles under his eyes and the barely noticeable strands of gray hair among the luscious black is a simple message that he was stressed. And god, you wanted nothing more than to take care of him and make sure he’s all healthy and— lord.

“Anything you want, baby. As long as you don’t step foot in the study till tomorrow afternoon.” You pressed your forehead against his, lips touching into an easy kiss.

You were both exhausted— Andy with his lack of sleep and you having to worry over him almost every 45 minutes. You both needed the rest. And some time together where it’s just the two of you and no one else exists.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #cevans #cevans x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers angst #steve rogers smut #andy barber #andy barber angst #andy barber fluff #andy barber x reader #andy barber x male reader #chris evans x male reader #gay andy barber

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becomingbts · 3 years

Text

Time heals (sometimes) - 1

Summary: 6 years ago, (Y/N) thought that she was finally taking her life into her hands, leaving behind a toxic and abusive relationship with a man who taught her she’d never be worthy of love. However, it became hard to ignore his words when she met her seven soulmates who rejected her without even giving her a chance to prove herself. It took (Y/N) 3 years to realize that it wouldn’t be her end. She would live on to prove them all wrong; she would become what they all thought she wasn’t: someone worthy of love. And as she stands proudly on the stage, under the burning spotlights and the applause and the cries of the delirious crowd, she feels alive. Alive, just like the bond she believed to be broken.

Pairings: Y/N x OT7

GENRE: Soulmate AU!, Idol Y/NAU!, semi social-media AU!, ANGST (mainly), fluff, romance, maybe smut in the series.

Ask or comment to be tagged!

1.5k

Warnings: The series is going to be heavy with a lot of personal experiences mixed into the fiction, so this is going to be kind of therapeutic for me. Please, consider not reading the series if you are not comfortable with: abandonment issues, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, self-harm (not descriptive and only part of MC’s past), suicide thoughts (in the past), toxic behavior, toxic and abusive relationship (in the past), depreciating self-talk and low self-esteem, a lot of curse, physical and mental pain, near death experience situation (in the past), and maybe smut scenes (happy ending though, but it will probably be quite the ride).

NOTE: So hello everyone, welcome to Time Heals (sometimes). Thank you so, so much for the warm welcoming, it has been my first time getting so many asks, I was honestly overjoyed. I still don’t really know what to call this part; is it a teaser? A note? A full chapter? I believe we’ll get some snapshot of memories like this one throughout the series because there is going to be a lot to unpack on both sides. I think it will be a chapter nevertheless because I have to establish some kind of order as to which parts should be read first, and I think this one is extremely important.

Thank you for reading,

-Dolly

Profiles #2 - here - part 2

Her scream pierced through the air while cries broke in the frenzied arena while a single blond-haired man froze, emptily staring at the stage. It felt like his senses heightened; his skin was shuddering, his eyes were frantically searching for one specific figure while his voice was lost in his throat. The screams resonating in the stadium would have been too loud for his voice to be heard anyway.

Jimin knew he shouldn’t be there.

Namjoon had told them more than once that none of them should try to go to one of (Y/N)’s events. It could be dangerous and they could be overwhelmed; anything could happen to them and they would still remain a nobody who fainted in the howling crowd. Would they want to take this risk? No.

So, Jimin would have had to admit that going to her very first concert in Seoul since the pandemic sounded like a very, very, very bad idea. And to be honest, it still didn’t seem to be a bright idea now that he was actually there.

But he still went because he needed to see her for himself; to see how she was. He had so many things he dreamed about asking her. Are you okay? Are you sleeping well? Did you eat before coming to the arena? Are you nervous? Do you... remember me?

Maybe he was torturing himself. He kept on watching her lives, following her on all social media, always made sure to leave a sweet comment, and never miss any of her new updates... Maybe he even had a folder of pictures of her on his phone but he’d never admit it to any of his mates. Taehyung would probably take his phone away from him and delete everything and Jimin couldn’t let that happen.

He felt like it was cheating. Don’t take him wrong though. When he thought that, he was not really thinking about the boys. They did collectively agree not to follow her activities as an artist but it was getting harder and harder with how popular she got anyway. Moon was everywhere. In commercials, on the radio, her songs were on the TV… Even if she was known for refusing most of the promotional contracts that were offered to her, her image was still constantly in the media despite her avoidance of it. Ironic, but the media were trying their best to find anything about her, be it positive or negative. One day she was seen on her bike, the next, she was in a coffee shop, and it kept on going on, overstepping on her privacy as if it was just a meaningless word.

The lockdown had admittedly played a major part in Jimin’s obsession. Being in their apartment meant quickly running out of activities, and his job as a dance teacher was not really filling his free time (a lot of his classes were also canceled). It was also during that time that (Y/N) truly blew up as an independent artist. Advertisement on YouTube started being around her channel and her music, the recommendations he kept on seeing were about also her… Jimin’s resolve honestly broke easily. It was hard not to be curious about his lost soulmate even though he didn’t feel like he had the right to be hurting.

Anyway, to come back to his main point, if Jimin felt like he was cheating; it was mostly for her. After all, (Y/N) had no means of letting the curiosity get the best of her, to know what they were doing; to simply see or contact them. He had, at first, not really thought about that. Watching her content seemed a very innocent thing to do in his opinion; billions of people were watching her content, why should he prevent himself from doing so? Yet, Jimin could still remember one of her live she did soon after that interview she had given on this damned radio show where she had revealed who her title track ‘TIME’ was about… She had gone live the next day-Jimin had jumped on his phone because of the notification-and one fan had asked her what would she do if she knew that her ‘ex-soulmates’ (and those words left a very sour taste in Jimin’s mind) were watching her. The question had silenced a previously restless Jimin, replacing his initial excitation with dread while a lump formed itself in his throat. He had not even noticed it; he was so focused on her live and her upcoming answer that Jimin had completely missed the sound of a glass breaking in the apartment. Jimin had been home alone, so even if had indeed heard it, he probably wouldn’t have bothered to check what had happened, thinking that the wind knocked it over or something. Jimin had been so absorbed by what he had been watching that he even got surprised a few hours later when Seokjin came home and yelled at him for breaking something when he had been clearly innocent, engrossed in (Y/N)’s live (not that he could tell his soulmates about that part, but yeah). (Y/N)’s live would always be more important than some random glass breaking again in their apartment. Every object was doomed with Namjoon living here anyway.

On her side of the screen though, (Y/N) had seemed taken aback as she had read the question and had gritted her teeth gently. She had seemed to be pondering about her answer even though a lot of people in her chat were telling her to forget about the question if it made her uncomfortable (a lot were even scolding the person who asked). Yet, sighing softly, she had looked up at the screen:

“I’d appreciate it if you could refrain from asking questions on this topic. It’s not taboo but I’d rather not remember everything that comes with it. However, to answer this-hopefully-last question about it, I’d ask them to turn off my stream and to stop watching any of my content. It would only be fair after all. I’ve been denied access to their lives six years ago, why would they get a free pass into mine now?” She had not smiled nor had she seemed hurt by her own comment, yet Jimin’s heart had shattered in pieces, unable to press the cancel button.

Her voice had slowly faded into background noise while her words had been stuck in his head.

I’d ask them to turn off my stream and to stop watching any of my content.

How could Jimin ever do that? He realized that he truly should. Namjoon would even agree with you, as ironic as it sounded for Jimin. Namjoon had been one of the most adamant ones about rejecting your bond, after all. Jimin was shaking with bitterness while ‘Moon’ continued her stream peacefully with music. Jimin could only try to gulp his anger down as he remembered her crumbling features on that fateful day.

“You’re not our soulmates. This name on our arms means nothing to us. You are nothing to us if not a hindrance. Leave us alone.”

If Jimin could go back in time, he’d prevent Taehyung from spatting those words at her. Yet, he couldn’t do anything. Playing the scene over and over in his mind wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t change that she probably hated them. It wouldn’t change the song she made about them.

And worst of all, it wouldn’t change the fact that Jimin had let himself believe that their choice had been for the best, trying to console and reassure himself, even if he had already known that it was wrong. Tears were pooling up in his eyes even if none escaped as he finally caught a glimpse of her on the stage. Suddenly brought back to reality after his subconscious memory trip, Jimin finally connected back to the world, looking around while he was still frozen on his spot. People were still screaming around him and he wondered if he looked like an intruder. Because, after all, wasn’t that what he exactly was? She said it herself that she didn’t wish for them to watch her; so what was he doing here?

Jimin couldn’t help but stare; she looked ethereal, dressed like a queen in the middle of a sold-out arena. People were screaming her name as she yelled her infamous ‘hi people’. It was an opening sentence that Jimin heard way too many times in her vlogs and suddenly hearing it in real life seemed surreal.

Jimin could only watch in awe, entranced with her everything.

Screw the boys and what they would think once he’d be back from her concert.

He had been the one to find her six years ago anyway. He had been the one to bring her to their home six years ago, hoping for the boys to change their mind once they’d meet her.

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 3 years

Text

Wilfords Demands: Simple As That

Summary- 7.3k Curtis Everett x You. Realization of your predicament really sinks in, but Curtis wont simply let that happen. Wilford seems happy to extend the deal, after all Curtis is his favorite fighter, always has been. Confident that things wont be as bad as they could be, you and Curtis settle into preparing for the new child. Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Warnings- talks of pregnancy, hint of possible abortion (a sentence), smut. 18+ Only.

A/N- I can’t claim to know anything about pregnancy except what research has informed me. So descriptions will be vague and probably not accurate.

Chapter 4 / Wilfords Demands Masterlist

“Then my Dear, you better encourage Curtis to win.”

Those words sunk deep as you looked into Wilfords cold ice-sharp eyes, the way he was grinning as if this was a game. But it wasn't a game, this was your life, Curtis's life and ultimately the new life growing inside of you right now.

And right now it was better to stay with the devil you knew. Your hands flew to your still flat stomach, pressing it lightly while gasping out.

“But I'm pregnant, with Curtis’s child. You can’t give me to another while raising his child.” You pointed out, hoping that the facts would be on your side in this.

Wilford pulled back with a hearty laugh that made you feel sick, wanting to vomit hearing it. Claude to snickered at you as if you were to stupid to understand. Your confused look clouded your face.

“Girl, you think you get to keep that baby? No woman like you gets to keep them.” Wilford wiped under his eyes to clear the tears. You could feel the blood ringing in your ears now as panic settled in your chest.

“You are going to take away my baby?”

“Of course you stupid bitch, you all are not fit to be mothers. Other more capable women will take them, raise them.” Claude snapped out gleefully at your distress. Wilford leaned forward giving you what was supposed to be a comforting pat on the hand, which you pulled back to your chest out of his reach.

“Girl, you will birth that child and give him up to us. I might even keep this one for myself. If Curtis wins. I only keep winners. I expect you to be good to whoever gets to claim you after the tournament.” He shifted to a stand, putting his chair back. You were in too much shock to even comprehend what Claude and Wilford were saying to one another.

“Ah, Claude, you better take her back to Curtis. The pretty thing seems to be in shock.” Wilford sighed a bit. “If she wasn't a tail ender, I would keep her for myself. She is a lovely thing. I'm sure Curtis will do his best to keep her.”

You just stared ahead now while Claude pulled you to a stand with a mutter. “It is a shame Sir. But you don't really want to lower yourself to that.”

All of this was just mumbled nonsense to you, still rolling over what they said earlier, neither you nor Curtis were going to get to keep the baby.

Heading back towards the rooms, Claude paused you at the door and gave a nod to have it unlocked.

Curtis had been pacing the room. To watch him was like the large cats in the zoo, coiled muscles back and forth pacing, snarls of frustration escaping at his predicament. The creak of the door made him pause though and you stepped through, your arms wrapped around your midsection and a blank look on your face. That scared him. And when the door slammed shut behind you, you flinched and blinked suddenly realizing where you were.

“Y/N? Say something.” Curtis finally broke the silence, crossing the room to grasp your forearms, looking for another reaction from you. Anything to snap you out of the silence.

You blinked a few more times and opened your mouth to say something but the words seem to be stuck somewhere.

Curtis drew you to sit on the edge of the bed and lowered next to you waiting. Finally you looked at him, drawing in a breath.

“There's a tournament? And I'm the prize?” You asked it like a question, still disbelieving. Curtis’s face darkened with a nod.

“Yes. It's a gladiator style tournament once a year. I swear Y/N, I'm not going to lose and let anyone else have you. It’s why I have been training so hard.” He shifted in closer and let his hand rest on your thigh, squeezing lightly. “I have been training for these tournaments for years.”

You looked down at his hand and studied it a moment, his knuckles were thick with scar tissue, some still busted from use. Fingers dug slightly into your thigh, as if holding you to him in case anyone tried to take you.

Hands of someone who lived a hard life, but managed to be gentle on you most the time. You knew you would have to tell him the next part. This you didn't know how to deal with. It should have been joyful news, but it was so tainted by the situation. “I'm also pregnant, several weeks now. Did you know… when you got me pregnant that I wouldn't be keeping the child?” You cleared your throat a bit.

Curtis withdrew his hold on you, flexing his hand. “Y/N… I never was sure but I suspected. The other women I had with me, I never saw them again. I don't know what happened to them or if they were allowed to keep their children.” His shoulders hunched. “But you… Wilford told me you were going to stay. He told you specifically that he would be taking it away?”

You swallowed and pulled back into the bed, to use the wall as support, your legs stretched out before you and your hands resting on your stomach.

“He did, he plans on taking it as soon as I give birth.“ You say darkly, already feeling protective and deep sadness that you wouldn't be able to prevent this.

Unless… the idea was so dark, it made your stomach churn.

Curtis was quiet for that moment watching you, worried at how quiet you had turned. He made a move to touch you and you withdrew from him.

“Please don’t… just this once.” You asked and Curtis for the first time withdrew from you and moved to the chair at the table, rubbing a hand over his head.

Any other time this happened, it didn't mean much to him except that his current charge was leaving. But to hear that you had his baby growing inside you made conflicting feelings. Part of him was thrilled, for whatever reason he wanted to see you grow and need him. To cradle his child to your chest and whisper sweet nothings. Warming his bed and filling his life.

The dread followed close on that feeling, because nothing good ever happened on the train. Even if he won, you were still going to lose the child. And Curtis didn't think he could handle that pain, but more importantly, that you couldn't handle it. Pushing to a stand, he pounded on the locked door. Hard enough for you to jump “Curtis, what are you doing?” The door opened once more.

“I need to see Wilford.”

The guard shook his head. “Not till your appointed time.” Curtis surged forward, pushing the man back into the hallway wall and fisted his hand in his gear to lift him off his feet, snarling out.

“I need to see Wilford now.”

Let him come. Came a cackle in a walkie and Curtis let him go.

He didn’t look back as your panicked voice called to him once again. “CURTIS! What are you doing?” You were trying to untangle from the bed when the door slammed shut, the last view Curtis had of you was your look of confusion and panic.

Without a word, Curtis was escorted back to Wilford’s. Being let in, Curtis didn't even hesitate as he brushed past Claude, who huffed in annoyance. “Asshole.”

“You can’t take her child.”

Wilford was standing up in the engine. “Isn't she just beautiful Curtis? Every part of her has a function that keeps us alive and moving. I’ve worked so hard to keep her running so smoothly” Curtis went up the steps into the hellish thing, not finding the beauty that Wilford seemed to be admiring.

“Let her keep the baby.” He started again, clenching his hands at his sides to keep from grabbing Wilford. He knew if he did Claude would shoot him in two seconds, but the urge not to snap the man's neck burned through him.

Wilford finally broke from whatever he was admiring and turned sharply to ascend down the steps, leaving Curtis standing there. “You two can just make more Curtis. Why this time? You never cared before what happened to the women or children.”

“Because Y/N is staying with me, you take away that child and you will destroy a part of her.”

“Make her easier to handle then wouldn't it? No fight left.”

Curtis growled a bit. “She isn't a problem now Wilford.”

“Listen, I’m not an unreasonable man. You win, you keep it all. The girl, the baby. We will change the terms of your contract. You Curtis were always one of my favorites. If it makes you happy, then I can give you this.” Wilford finally said, acting as if he was doing Curtis a favor by the way he spoke to him.

“What's the catch? If I lose?” Curtis asked knowing there would be more and Wilford shrugged.

“Then you lose it all Curtis, just like always.” Wilford stated, snapping his fingers to have the guard come back in waiting for Curtis. “She belongs to the champion, she will lose the child and the terms of her contract with you will pass to whomever gets to claim her. Like I told your little Sweetheart, don’t mess up if you want to keep her with you that badly.”

Curtis glowered at him, straightening to his full height. “I don't plan on it.”

Wilford looked nothing but joyful and calculating. “Just what I wanted to hear.”

After that Curtis was directed to leave the engine, the steel door slamming in his face.

There is no other choice, not that there was much of one before going into the ring ever. If Curtis was to keep you safe, he was going to have to win. With that resolve, he went back to find you curled up on the bed, knees pulled up, arms hugging around yourself. As if you were trying to fold in on yourself and escape. Lifting your head when you heard the door open, Curtis could see the relieved sigh that escaped you. Your tension loosening in your hold as you shifted to sit at the edge of the bed. “What happened?”

“I just talked to Wilford.” He made his way to the chair at the table, easing down in it for a minute while the silence stretched between you two.

When Curtis leaned down to untie his boots, you ventured with your next question. Playing with your fingers. “About the child? Curtis if they take me away…” Your voice drifted, cracking a bit at the thought even passing your mind, let alone saying it. “Maybe it's just better that this baby doesn't come, you know? Maybe it's best to just-”

Curtis immediately snapped his head up, eyes blazing in anger as he barked out sharply. “Don’t even go there Y/N. You and that baby are not going anywhere.”

You quieted for a moment, looking down at your hands after his raise of his voice and you heard Curtis curse from his seat, moving to grasp your chin and make you look up at him. “Trust me okay Y/N. I'm not going to lose.”

You wanted to, you could see the resolve in his gaze as he made you look at him.

This sadness that was all over your face pained Curtis and he wanted nothing more than to take it away. His grasp loosened slightly on your chin, your eyes still uplifted to bore into his, but you made no move to pull away from him. He did what he could only think of to do, lowering his head, his rough lips pressed gently against yours and his hands sliding to cup your face. You were so soft in his hard life.

This time Curtis didn't demand you to open for him, he waited, the top of his tongue tracing the seam to be allowed in. The action spun your head, and immediately the tickle enticed your lips apart, allowing him to tangle his tongue with yours. Pressing you back as Curtis continued forward, you fell back into the mess of the bed, Curtis moving over you while never breaking the kiss till you had to pull away to draw in a breath. But he didn't stall, bringing his mouth down to your jawline and the curve of your neck, pressing his knee in between your thighs so he could slot his hips there to press his weight over you.

A while ago you learned how pointless it was to fight against him and now at this point maybe you no longer wanted to. He could give you mindless pleasure, let you forget the mess of your existence for just a few moments if you just let him. Curtis’s fingers expertly plucking away at the ties of your pants and drawing them down, muttering for you to lift yourself which you listened to, raising your hips under him while dragging your palms to brace against his back, digging in your fingers through the layers of his clothing to hold onto him.

“Do you promise Curtis? I don't care what happens to me anymore. But this baby, Wilford cant have. Please promise me.” You gasped slightly under him as you felt his fingers start to stroke you, seeking for you to open once more for him. Arousal pooling with each expert touch heated you to a warmth that couldn't be found any other way. He dragged your shirt over your head, kissing against the top of your breasts and drawing a nipple into his mouth to suck between his teeth while you started to wither at the sensations he was drawing out of you.

“I promise Y/N, you just focus on growing our baby, m’kay?” He grunted as his hand covered your fluttering belly, not yet round or even showing. But knowing it was in there and for once he was going to get to see it all happen stirred something in Curtis. Something he never wanted or cared for before. Flicks of his tongue traced around your nipples, the warmth of his mouth was such a contrast to the coolness in the air, it drew out these soft little gasps that delighted the man.

Your hips started to rock into his hand while he started to finger you, stroking velvet walls while he lifted his head to watch your reactions. Always so expressive, you fisted your hands in his shirt while your head tilted into the pillows with a soft whimper, knowing that you were close. Curtis was rewarded when your eyes glazed over and warmth flooded his hand while you clamped around him. “Good Girl, don't hold back.” He praised you while tilting down to kiss you slowly, swallowing the aftermath of your orgasm, the tiny whimpers of his name and your pleas for him to finish.

How badly you wanted him to finish in you now.

Curtis pulled back to yank his shirt off and shove his pants down enough to release his cock, stroking himself over you. Your eyes lowered to watch him and for the first time ever, you reached to wrap your hand around his length. “Oh shit Y/N.” His voice stuttered when you squeezed slightly. He hunched over you, falling to his elbow while you pressed him between your swollen folds, looking up at him with a bite to your lip.

“Promise me Curtis.”

Blue eyes that were once so damn harsh and cold towards you simmered heatedly. You didn't know how you could ever think of them as cold as they sharpened with desire. Curtis pressed his forehead to yours for a moment, whispering. “On my life Y/N.”

You gave a slight nod at his answer and his mouth pressed against yours as he started to press into you. The stretch had you gasping though, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him down to press your mouth back to his, his hands held onto the side of your head as he started rocking his hips, dragging himself in deep to the place only he has ever been. Dragging against your sensitive walls, you wrapped yourself around him while placing kisses against his mouth, gasping whenever he dropped his weight on you and speared back into your heat.

With everything going on, you let yourself enjoy being with him. The push and pull, the feel of his heavier body pressing yours into the bedding beneath. His heavy length filling you till you were clamping around him to keep him there.

Your fingers curled into his neck, twisting into the short hairs at the back of his head, and Curtis continued pressing harder grunting kisses against your shoulder, his hands curling around under your arms and grasping your shoulders to hold you close as his hips ground into you, his pelvis pressing against your clit.

The rush of it all, the feeling of him kissing you so passionately while he kept claiming you to spiral under him was so much. A cold fire in your belly and the flutters in you turned to clamping, trying to hold him to you while you came.

“That's right sweet girl, just let it happen.” He grunted once more when your body under him locked, twitching as you dug into the back of his neck and your knees gripped his hips to rock with him. His hand loosened on your shoulder and pressed between your bodies, his palm slightly pressing against your stomach to feel how full you were from him and then fell between your bodies to rub your clit to bring you to arousal again.

“Curtis-” You whined and he nudged your head back, sucking on your neck, pressing faster.

“One more, that's it. I know it feels good.” He hissed feeling you buck underneath him. “Feel s’good, right?”

You nodded your head hurriedly while he played you so expertly, all those other times he had grown to learn what made you wither and whine for him, the only man to ever make you feel like this. Which after the stress of the day, you needed to go mindless. “So-so good.”

Nip of teeth with a touch of his tongue, had you arching, the room filled with the harsh sounds of his body colliding with yours and the squeak of the mattress underneath you. Your toes curled and you sobbed out, dropping your hand to cover your mouth to keep your orgasm from bouncing off the metal walls, but he jerked your hand down, filling your mouth with his tongue. Harsh thrusts turned to grind out his own release, warmth flooding you in an all to familiar pleasure.

You dug fingers into his shoulders and dragged him over you, quivering underneath him while pressing your face into his chest, willing your heart to start to slow while his rat-a-tat-tat rapidly in his own chest, deep inhales expanding his chest and pushing you into the mattress while he gasped for air. Curtis went to move, but you clutched tighter. “Dont, please not yet.”

Reaching underneath him, he pushed to an elbow and fisted his hand in your hair gently to pull your head away to look up at him. “I'm not, just be patient Y/N.”

Curtis eased down enough so he wasn't smothering you, but could lay his head on your chest, his arms looped around your midsection. His hips kept your thighs pinned underneath him and his belly pressed against your waist, keeping you under him.

“Soon I won't be able to lay like this on you, you know.” He pointed out after a few minutes and you slipped your hand tentative over his scalp and along the back of his neck. Another first he thought to himself while he closed his eyes to enjoy the way you were willingly touching him.

“I know… I actually never knew I liked the way it felt.” You admitted, having always pulled away from him before after they finished.

Curtis didn’t either, sex had always been a means to an end, there was no intimacy really in it for him. It was a necessity to survive, so he never allowed himself to enjoy it like this, it was simply good in the moment and when it was over, it was over. It never really occurred to him that it could be this simple moment of bliss. But feeling the softness of your body just cradle him so easily, your warmth envelops him into a lull of relaxation. Well, maybe he could get used to feeling this way.

Feeling this way with you.

“Curtis… I have to get up.” You said after a while with what he hoped was regret in your voice. Planting his hands against the mattress, he pulled himself off to lay at the side while you shifted out from under him to sit on the edge of the bed and reach down to grab something to cover yourself with.

“Why do you do that? Cover yourself?” He asked, while you slipped the shirt over your head so that it pooled down around your thighs. You glanced over your shoulder, where he laid stretched out, comfortable in his own skin.

“Why wouldn't I? It's not like I'm anything special Curtis. Also it's safer in the tail end to not get noticed.” You said while pulling to a stand and disappearing in the bathroom. Curtis frowned to himself, he could understand not getting noticed, but the other he couldn't agree with. He was still genuinely surprised that you were a virgin when you were brought to him.

When you came back out, running your hands over your shirt and moving to crawl back in the bed, Curtis reached over and grasped your chin in his forefinger and thumb. “That's not true Y/N.”

You blinked at him wide eyed, confused in such an innocent way. The corners of his mouth tugged a bit seeing you blink at him owlishly. “What's not true?” You wriggled into the dip in the mattress you had left earlier.

“You claim you're not anything special. You are beautiful Sweetheart. Especially now that your health is returning. I'm not the only one to notice.” His fingers loosened and trailed along your cheeks that were filling out and were always so warm against his fingertips.

You huffed a bit and your eyes went downcast while settling back in the bedding. “I don't know if that is a good thing.” You wrinkled your nose and Curtis reached over to let his hand settle on your stomach.

“You are not going anywhere.”

First Trimester

Changes started so subtly. One morning your stomach turned at the sight of eggs Curtis brought that had you sprinting to the bathroom and over the toilet. You grasped the sides as you gagged over it, and Curtis cussed while placing the tray down, following you in to stand behind you, pulling hair back and rubbing your back. Once you stopped gasping and fell back to sit on your ankles, he let go of you and went to the bathroom sink to fill a cup with some water for you to clear your mouth with. Taking it, you swished some water and spat it out before handing it back to Curtis. “Thank you.”

“What was it?” He questioned while giving the cup a rinse and reached down to help you to stand.

“Uhh, the eggs maybe?” You took a deep breath just thinking about it and felt your stomach roll again while moving to the sink and grabbed the tooth brush.

“Want me to get rid of them?”

“Can you Curtis?”

He gave a smile and rubbed your back once before exiting the bathroom, giving you some privacy. Going back out, you saw the offending pile of eggs was gone. Alot of it was trial and error. You soon learned that you had a constant craving for milk as well, which Curtis was sure to start adding to all the meals he brought you.

You craved back rubs and shoulder rubs, which Curtis was good at you found out. As well as being so tired. All the time. You took several naps throughout the day, which at first you apologized for. Curling up in bed to sit whenever Curtis caught you dozing off. One day with a sketch pad stretched out before him, making lazy swipes with his pencil, he gave a shake of his head. “Sleep. You have to listen to your body and right now you are growing a person, no wonder you are tired.” When you started to protest by throwing the blankets off you, Curtis gave you a hard stare till you sunk back down, blinking back at him.

“You are being serious.”

“Aren't I always Y/N? Finish your nap.” He said curtly and went back to his sketch. The sun heated through the glass and the beams fell over you, lulling you back to sleep. When you woke up later, Curtis was gone. But his notepad was left, which when you got up, you leaned over it to see what he had been working on.

A sketch of you stretched out in bed, your hair falling around your sleeping face. You could tell he had been practicing his shading as he did it from several angles, and one where you had rolled to your hip, sure to focus on your hand pressing against the slight bump you had.

When he came back, Curtis would offer to take you around the train as long as you weren't tired. At first you declined, worried about further run-ins with people like Grey, New Years Eve not far from your mind. But the more times he offered and you grew restless, you took him up on the offer.

The greenhouse car was one you always looked forward to, the natural lighting in it for the vegetation soaking into your body, the air felt fresh from the plants and you would wander the aisles to attempt to learn from the greenhouse workers what they were growing. Curtis simply watched as you started to get braver, ask questions and help with the weeding, just wanting to feel the dirt.

One day you two were sitting under the trees, Curtis nodding off in the warmth, and you were reading a new book out loud to him when you eased the book shut.

“Curtis? I need some water.” You mentioned and his eyes snapped open, pulling himself up to sit. You would have just gone yourself to get it, but you knew he wouldn't allow that. So you stayed there while he pushed to a stand.

“How about a snack to? You haven't eaten much today and I saw them picking the cherry tomatoes when we first came in.” He inquired.

Giving a nod, he soon dipped out of the aisle to get what you asked for and you tilted your head back to relax against the tree trunk. But your peaceful moment was short lived. A shadow passed over you and a snickering voice taunted you to spring your eyes open and pull your legs back. “Well well well, Curtis left his little pet to wander around all alone?” Grey moved to a squat in front of you, a few of his friends crowding around behind him, all leering down at you while you tried to shrink away. Your tongue swelled up, unable to speak. When Grey reached a hand out to touch you, you pulled further away.

“Don’t.” You finally were able to say, causing him to jerk his head back and laugh deeply at your attempt to put space between you two.

“Oh you shouldn't be scared of me, I was your friend on New Years remember? Curtis is the one who beat you, not me.”

You folded your arms around your legs to hold yourself away from him, but Grey wasn't allowing you to shrink away too much, his hand moving to touch your knee, grinning at the way you jerked. “Don't touch me.”

Grey shuffled closer, the men behind him closing in further till the space of the greenhouse seemed to no longer exist.

“You're like a little unsoiled dove, so innocent in all this. I promise you though once I take you, you won't be able to play this act anymore.” Grey said coldly, his gaze glinting with promise as it raked over your face. He was close enough to feel his hot sour breath washing over your face.

The tension stretched between you two and you felt like you were going to snap when a low deep voice came from behind. “Step the fuck back from her.” The group parted enough to show Curtis striding closer the handful of cherry tomatoes in his palm crushed to drip the juices and seeds from between his fingers and the tin cup of water sloshing over the edge as he sped up, pushing past the others to grasp the back of Grey's collar and fling him back. Grey easily straightened, pulling an innocent look as Curtis moved to block you from them. You scrambled to get up, using the back of his shirt to pull yourself to a stand and stay behind him. A barrier between you and Grey.

“I thought I told you not to go near her again?” Curtis’s rage was laced in his tone and Grey shrugged a bit.

“Just saying hello Curtis, I missed seeing your girl since the party.” You eased around Curtis a bit and Grey caught sight of you, aiming a wink towards you. “Till next time Y/N.”

You pressed in behind Curtis, your gaze looking down the aisle to see members of the greenhouse take interest. From afar it would appear to be just a passing of words, and the tremors going through Curtis told you how he was holding back from attacking Grey. If he did, it would all seem unprovoked, Curtis words and yours against Grey and his crowd. It wouldn't end good for Curtis.

Curtis watched long enough to make sure they were out of sight and turned swiftly towards you, wiping his hand against his jacket till the tomato residue was off his palms and touched your face afterwards, tilting you to look up at him. “He didn’t touch you did he?”

A firm shake no answered him and he offered the mug of water which you tilted back to calm your nerves and moisten your mouth. “No Curtis, not really.”

“Son of a bitch.” He clenched his hand at his side, looking over his shoulder again and you reached to press your hand to his chest, bringing his focus back on you.

“Let’s just leave here, please?” Last thing you wanted was Curtis’s anger to sit with him the rest of the day.

He took a deep breath to let it settle in his chest before turning to you blinking up at him and part of him softened. “Come on… Got somewhere else you might like to see.” Wrapping an arm around you, you followed along with him as you two made your way out of the gardens aisle. Your fingers played at his sleeve nervously as you glanced behind once more, but Grey was nowhere to be seen. The silver train door whooshed and crossed into another threshold. Once it closed behind you, you turned your focus to the area Curtis had taken you.

It was filled with wild greenery, and the echoes of songbird calls bounced off the towering glass of the train's ceiling. Your lips split into a grin when you stepped from Curtis hold, your gaze lifted to see brilliant colored birds darting around one another. “I remember coming through here when I was brought to the front, what is its purpose?”

“An aviary, the last birds on earth that we know of.” Curtis informed you, his head tilting back to look up in the treetops crowding against the glass of the train, straining for freedom that would forever be denied them from growing to their full size.

Curtis watched your child like wonder as birds filtered down to land on you, tiny trills and warbles inquiring as they inspected you. You stretched out your arms for other curious birds, hoping down to peck at your palm looking for food. You happened to giggle with the ticklish feeling and to Curtis it was far better then all the songbirds in the aviary.

You were such a light in Curtis’s life now. These kinds of moments where you seemed to forget that you were held against your will but found a reason to laugh, your eyes bright when they looked at him and you danced into a small circle, the birds lifting off of you in a flurry of cries and wings, so you could come back to him excitedly. Curtis couldn't believe that he once saw you as a job, something he had to tolerate.

Now he didn't want anyone else sharing his space with him.

“There were so many Curtis! I didn't know there could be that many on the train…” Your hands fluttered back and forth with your words, rambling about how much you loved the moment, thanking Curtis for bringing you when he cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks and his eyes bright while looking at you. It paused you in surprise as his head lowered against yours and pressed his mouth against yours. This was a different kiss then any he's given you before.

But this was a gentleness that was asking permission, his hold cradling and gentled, slightly rough lips easily pressing against yours and the tip of his tongue just swiping as in a way of saying ‘Please?’

Your hands braced against his chest and slid around behind him, allowing him to swipe in and roll his tongue with yours, pulling you in closer to him till your body was flushed with his own, his hold sliding from your cheeks and sliding down your back. When the two of you parted, foreheads leading against one another, panting slightly.

That kiss simply took the air from your lungs and you could feel it meant something more this time.

More than being forced together or trying to comfort. This one had something behind it. Part of it scared you that maybe this man meant more to you then he had before.

Second Trimester

You sat on the edge of the bed, a hand braced against the curve of your stomach, waiting. Curtis was nearby, nose in a book but he noticed that you had moved up to sit. A curious glance looked over the spine of the book. “Whats going on?” He questioned as you sighed a bit, sliding your hand to another spot, scrunching your nose.

“He was just moving, I swear he was getting ready to kick.” you looked down at your now protruding belly, rolling your shirt up enough to slide your palm against it. “But feels like he has settled down.” Curtis chuckled softly and set the book aside on the table, moving to kneel on the floor before you and ease his hand around the sides, exploring for himself.

“That's because he's decided to treat his mama well.”

You snort a bit and roll your eyes. “More like he's saving it for tonight when I'm trying to sleep.”

Curtis smirked a bit, and rested his hands against your thighs, winking at you. “Well he does take after his dad.”

You shoved at his shoulder with a scoff, leaving Curtis laughing heartily while falling back to rest on his ankles looking up at you. Moments like these he seemed so boyish, his laugh was genuine and rare. But the longer you two lived together, the more you got to hear it. It was a pleasant sound, one that seemed to make you forget for a moment that you two were stuck together in a glorified prison. “We keep calling him he, do you think he is a he?”

Curtis shrugged a bit. “Honestly, boy or girl doesn't matter to me. But yea...I think it's a boy. Just feels right when I think of seeing him for the first time.” He admitted admiring the glimpse of skin showing where your shirt had ridden up.

It was also easier letting him see more of you. It probably helps that during your pregnancy, you had cravings. Serious cravings.

Which even now started to curl in your lower belly and clench your thighs slightly under his hands that still rested against them. He felt it and arched a curious brow as you shyly looked away as if distracted. But he knew, he shuffled in closer and slid his palms warmly back up to your belly. “You know you just have to ask.”

Caught. You knew you were caught and you shifted slightly, twisting your fingers together. “I don't wanna ask though. I mean it's not like your job to have to anymore.”

“Y/N- will you just lay back? You want it and I don't mind giving it.” He instructed, pressing you to lay back on the bed, leaving your legs dangling over the edge of the bed. His hands grasped in the band of your shorts and started to draw them down to leave your lower half naked and you folded your hands together to rest on your stomach, looking down your body to watch Curtis.

“You may not mind, but I still don't want you to feel like you gotta.” You rambled on as he brushed his chin against the top of your thighs to nudge them apart and drew one leg up over his shoulder, brushing a kiss to the inside of your knee. “Your damn kid is making me horny, but I have other ways to handle it whenever-”

Curtis rolled his eyes in amusement to your rambling. Honestly he would be happy taking care of you like this, seeing you pregnant was driving him crazy with want. Knowing he made you need him so much, be able to take care of you and see you satisfied in his bed. Right now nothing was better than seeing you post orgasm bliss. You were still going on above him, but he stopped listening, his goal now to make you forget about feeling guilty for wanting him. Flushing kisses up your thigh and he brought the other one over his shoulder, he heard his name while he dragged the tip of his nose through your curls and to your folds that were starting to glisten with arousal.

“Are you listening, Curtis?” you voiced above him and he snickered a bit while spreading your folds apart and lapping along your quivering cunt, hearing your question turn into a gentle moan.

“I was, but now I'm not Darling, because honestly eating you out is my main priority right now.” He lapped again, sucking on your outer folds and was rewarded with another gasp above him and your hand falling to his head, curling your fingers against his scalp.

“Do that again?” You breathed out and you felt his tongue curl through you once more, just making you pulse and arousal seep from you that he was quick to collect with a growl as he sucked on you. You let your eyes close and mind clear to just the sensations he was creating in you. His fingers massaged the tense muscles inside your thighs as he looped his arms over the top of your thighs and spread them just a bit wider, burying his face in between your legs. He found your clit and proceeded to tease it in just that way that had you arching your hips for him and whimpering into your shoulder till you couldn't keep quiet anymore.

“Oh god Curtis… Curtis…” You started chanting his name while he played with you, continued pressing his tongue in all those places that made your core clench and thighs quiver and strain in his hold trying to clasp around his ears.

“Just let it happen Y/N, why are you holding back?” He teased you, the graze of his cheeks scratching along the inside of your thighs that he released so they clasped around his head and your hands started to press his face into your center. He plunged his tongue into you, teasing your fluttering walls till they were driving you blissed out, rocking into his face till you finally did as he said, letting go and letting your orgasm wash over you till you were floating happily in pleasure, a sigh escaping you as your toes curled into his shoulders then they collapsed over his back, humming out your bliss.

Curtis rolled his shoulders to let your legs fall off, one last lap through your core and a kiss to the top of your mound before he sat back and massaged your thighs till the tension seeped through them. Planting his hands on the mattress to pull to a stand, looming over you as he pushed your shirt up to kiss the curve of your belly.

“Better?” He asked as he fell to the other side of the bed, his hand massaging your hip, the other hand running through his beard and you slid an eye open to see him watching you for an answer.

“Thank you, he's settled down.” Your hand slid over your curve and he mimicked your touch, feeling for himself.

“Perhaps he decided taking a nap was better than being aware of his parents intimate time.” He teased and you covered your face in embarrassment, sighing.

“You are terrible Curtis.”

He snorted with a grin while pushing up to a stand. “That I am. Alright, time for me to go to the gym. Do you need anything before I go Y/N?”

You shook your head while pushing up to a stand yourself and brushing past Curtis to reach into the little fridge to grab an apple. “Nah, I'm good. Afterwards do you think we could go walking somewhere? My back has been killing me and the baths are not helping so much anymore. Walking around seems to help though.”

He gathered what he needed while nodding. “Sure, we will do that when I get back.” Curtis promised before heading out, and you plopped down in the seat he occupied earlier, easing back a bit and picking up the book he had been engrossed with earlier, looking to see where he was. Taking bites of the apple, you suddenly felt the baby start to wriggle again, and this time he gave the kicks you were expecting earlier.

“Oh now you wanna be a wriggler. Apparently your father was wrong, you have been awake.” You chuckled a bit while settling back.

A whoosh of doors announced Wilford as he stepped into the enclosed space off the engine. Humming to himself as his eyes glanced over the screens to different sections of the train. Everyone was right where they needed to be, his eyes glinted gleefully appreciating the order of Snowpiercer. Everything so wonderfully balanced, just as it always has been. He was there god, giving them life. Each one he looked at was absolutely perfect, all constructed by him. Wilford viewed them as stories, each one he could maneuver in the way he wanted. Settling down in his seat, he twisted his chair towards his prize tv screen, the biggest and clearest one.

On the screen was a black and white version of Curtis’s room. So far Wilford had let you and Curtis have moments of domesticity. Let you two get comfortable, sure that your lives were going to continue being peaceful.

Wilford grinned coldly while leaning forward to trace a finger over your form sitting in the chair, singing to your belly.

“That's right Dear… you keep on taking care of my baby so sweetly. You will be the perfect mother to my son.”

#wilfords demands #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett fan fiction #snowpiercer fan fiction #snowpiercer #curtis everett #chris evans characters #amber writes #sweater writes #dark curtis everett

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merakiaes · 4 years

Text

Worse Ways To Die - Oscar “Spooky” Diaz

Pairing: Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x reader

Requested: By @mrs-spookyd1az

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: Possessive, cranky Oscar! Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes. Please let me know what you think, I hope that you like it xx

Wordcount: 3724

Summary: Ruby and Jamal can’t keep their eyes off of you at the pool and Oscar has too much fun with it. However, he doesn’t find it as funny when strangers look at you.

The time Oscar had both dreaded and hoped for his entire life had come; his dad had been released from prison and come back home.

Cesar was, of course, over the moon to finally get to know his dad, but Oscar, being the one who had been first-hand abandoned to raise his younger brother, was furious and hurt. And you… Living with the Diaz brothers permanently, you didn’t really know how to feel.

The atmosphere in the house wasn’t at all what you were used to. It wasn’t playful and loving anymore. It was tense and hostile, and most of all confusing.

In an attempt to cut down the negative feelings you tried your best to be civil with Ray no matter how angry you were about how bad he had hurt Oscar, but still tried to keep him out of the loop as much as you possibly could in order to make things comfortable for your boyfriend.

He had only been home for a few days, and he and Oscar had already had more fights than you could count on two hands.

You tried your best to help resolve things and find a middle ground for them when they just refused to co-operate, but at the end of the day, no matter if you were the long-term girlfriend of Oscar, it wasn’t any of your business so you didn’t pretend like it was by getting yourself mixed up into their conflicts.

The only thing you could do was be there for him, open your arms to him when he needed you and listen to his rants and make sure he knew that his feelings were justified and validated.

He had been a lot less openly loving toward you since Ray’s return, but you knew it was only because he was still trying to figure out what to feel, and you knew it wasn’t because of you. He was tense and irritated against pretty much anyone these days, and you were the only thing keeping him from blowing up.

He wasn’t just angry that he had waltzed back into their lives as if nothing had ever happened, however. More than anything, he was jealous of the way Cesar looked at him, like he was some kind of hero, despite the fact that it was he who had given up in his dreams to raise him.

You really felt his pain when you had to watch him watch them interact. More than anything, you wanted to sit Cesar down and tell him all of the things Oscar had ever done for him and compare them to all of the things Ray hadn’t, but you knew you couldn’t do that.

He needed to figure it out on his own, even if the only way to do so meant he would get his heart crushed like Oscar had all those years ago. It wouldn’t be pretty, but it would be necessary.

Today was one of the few days Cesar wasn’t attached at the hip with his dad.

You and Oscar had been sitting around in the kitchen when Cesar had emerged from his bedroom dressed in a tank and short, with a towel slung over his shoulder, telling you he was heading for the pool.

And in a last-moment decision and desperate attempt to connect with his mano again – although he would never admit it - Oscar had decided that you would go with him. And it was a good idea, as it would mean Oscar could relax some.

So, now here you were, getting out of the car that you had just parked outside the pool.

Cesar was the first one to get out, barely even sparing you a glance before heading off, going ahead to meet up with his friends inside.

While he hurried away, you and Oscar took your time, hands intertwined and swinging slowly between your bodies as you walked toward the entrance at a slow pace, your things packed into a bag that was slung across Oscar’s shoulder.

To avoid having to change inside the locker rooms, you were already dressed in your bikini, having thrown on a simple tank top and a pair on top for the car ride.

Oscar was already dressed too, in his black swimming trunks, a pair of flipflops and a blank t-shirt, so the only thing inside the bag hanging from his shoulder were two towels, your book and sunscreen. You didn’t really need much more for a day at the pool.

A minute later, you were walking through the people inside, heading straight for the spot where Cesar and the others had set up camp.

Jamal and Ruby were sitting in sunchairs, seemingly handing out sandwiches in exchange for money. Jasmine was sitting in the sun and Monse was doing the same, although lying down on a towel, and Cesar was sitting beside her, now only dressed in his shorts.

Cesar wasted no time in raising a hand in a wave, smiling at you as you approached even though you had seen him only two minutes ago. His wave alerted the others of your presence, their eyes averting to you.

“Sup, fools.” Oscar was the first to talk, dropping the bag down on the ground a meter away from them, claiming the spot as yours and barely sparing them a glance as he opened the bag and grabbed the towels, starting to put them down on the ground for you.

While he busied himself with that, you took the time to greet them more properly, smiling at them and raising your hand in a wave. “Hey, guys.”

Jasmine and Monse greeted you from their spots and Cesar smiled, while Jamal and Ruby stared at you with looks that you could only describe as the ones the guys in high school used to give you when they overestimated their game when trying to get in your pants.

It was much cuter when it was Jamal and Ruby, though. They were younger than you and it wasn’t a secret that they both harbored some kind of horny teenage crush on you, something Oscar wasn’t all too fond of.

But you found it adorable, and amusing more than anything.

Jamal puckered his lips out slightly, without a doubt in an attempt to make himself more attractive, while Ruby gave you a confident head-nod, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. “Sup, mamita.” The overly cocky boy greeted you, and you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in surprise.

You knew he had the hots for you but that wasn’t at all what you had expected. Still, an amused expression fell upon both yours and Cesar’s faces as you exchanged a glance.

But Oscar didn’t find it half as amusing, looking up from the bag and raising a challenging eyebrow, dropping the bag again and standing back up to his full height. “You trying to move in on my girl, pequeño?”

Ruby and Jamal widen their eyes, share a glance before looking back to your boyfriend and shaking their heads violently.

“No, no, I wouldn’t even think about hitting on your girl, Osca- Mr. Spooky, sir. She’s yours.” Ruby quickly defended himself, and Jamal rapidly nodded his head.

“He would never!” He agreed.

Oscar gave them an amused smirk, nodding his head. “That’s right. She’s mine, and if I see you little putas checking her out-“

“We would never!” Jamal repeated, a feign shocked look on his face and their eyes as big as saucers at this point.

“No!” Ruby joined in. “We don’t even find her attractive!”

Jamal’s head whipped around to his best friend and his hand flew out to slap him on his shoulder as a disapproving sound left his lips.

Oscar’s eyebrows shot up, eyes narrowing into slits and his feet taking him a step closer to the two boys. “Are you calling mi reina ugly?”

Jamal let out a sound resembling a whine, pushing himself back into his chair while Ruby was left to fend for himself. “No!” He quickly denied. “She’s really hot! I mean beautiful, I mean, she’s not our type.” He cleared his throat toward the end, trying to play it cool.

“She’s everyone’s type.” A feign offended look overcame Oscar’s face again, causing the panic to return to Ruby and Jamal’s in an instant.

“I-“

You couldn’t deny the exchange was funny as hell to witness, your boyfriend’s teasing making it hard for you to keep your laughter in. But you managed to hold it back in the end and hit him in the back of his head at the sight of the genuinely terrified looks on their faces, swallowing your laughter.

“Oscar, stop messing with them.” You scolded in a lighthearted manner and he turned to you, giving you a smirk while the two boys were still looking about ready to piss themselves.

They didn’t relax until Oscar turned his back on them, turning his attention elsewhere.

He grabbed the end of his tank top and pulled it over his head without another word, sitting down on one of the towels, the one closest to the boys.

You followed his example and sat down, still dressed in your clothes, and grabbed the sunscreen from the bag, popping the lid open and nudging your boyfriend’s arm.

“Turn around.” You instructed, causing him to turn his head to look at you.

He spotted the pink bottle in your hand and instantly shook his head, turning his head back forward stubbornly. “No. You’re not putting that shit on me.” He refused. “It smells like flowers.”

Rolling your eyes, you ignored him, pouring some into your palm and rubbing your hands together. “You know you burn easily.” You argued. “Stop being a perra and turn around, or I’m leaving.”

Glancing at you, he scoffed, but didn’t protest any further, turning his back to you. “Puta.” He swore.

In return, you slapped your sunscreen-covered hands onto his back, smirking when he flinched from the cold. “Pendejo.”

“Pineapple.” Came the voice of Jamal from beside Oscar and the two of you, along with everyone else, turned to look at him with raised eyebrows, causing him to look around at you, confused. “What? I thought we were naming things starting with P.”

“Idiot.” Cesar laughed and you just shook your head, starting to rub the sunscreen into the skin of Oscar’s back, shoulders and arms.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but despite the fact that the lotion smelled like an old lady, he enjoyed the feeling of your hands kneading his tense muscles. His eyes closed and his forehead leaned on his arms that were in turn resting on top of his knees.

Once your hands were close to dry and every inch of his upper body had been covered, you pressed a kiss to his neck and turned to his younger brother who was sitting a small distance away with a smile.

“Do you want me to do your back, too?” You asked, the motherly instinct coming automatically at this point. You had, after all, helped care for him ever since you met Oscar.

Cesar smiled and nodded his head. “Sure.” He said and stood up, walking over to where you were sitting.

You scooted back to make room for him in front of you on your towel and smirked at Oscar, who was already looking at you, when his little brother sat down with no protest.

You raised an eyebrow. “You see that?” You asked, squirting some more sunscreen into your palm and repeating the procedure. “Your brother doesn’t complain like a little bitch.”

Oscar shook his head in annoyance, standing back up. “Whatever. I’m hitting the pool. You coming?” He looked down at you, and you shook your head with a smile, not taking his attitude to heart.

“I’ll be there in a bit.” You promised, finishing putting the sunscreen on Cesar and putting the bottle back down into the bag. “I want to lay in the sun for a bit first.”

He nodded his head, leaning down to give you a quick peck to the lips before walking away.

Cesar stood up too, going back to his spot beside Monse, and you took that as the perfect time to undress, standing up and beginning to unbutton your shorts.

Beside you, Ruby’s hand immediately flew down to his crotch where he adjusted his shorts, his eyes flickering between you and the pool repeatedly. “Oh no, it’s happening.”

Jamal, also trying his hardest to avert his gaze hit his friend upside the head. “Control yourself, be strong!”

But he was fucked too when he glanced back to you only to see you pulling your tank top over your head, your stomach toned as you stretched your arms up, the real goods being revealed.

“Oh no.” He whimpered, and Jasmine glared at them from her spot.

“You guys, don’t be disrespectful.” She scolded them in a hushed voiced, keeping it low as to not draw your attention where you were now busying yourself with smearing sunscreen over your chest.

The two boys didn’t even seem to hear her, their mouths falling agape and their eyes widening at the sight.

Cesar watched the scene unfold from his spot, shaking his head with amusement, knowing that his brother would quite literally kill them if he came back right then.

So he took matters into his own hands, deciding to protect his eventually-to-be sister-in-law from the prying eyes of his friends by throwing one of his flipflops at them, causing them to look at him just as you turned your attention back to them.

“Who wants to do my back?” You questioned with a bright smile, holding the bottle up for all to see and being completely oblivious to what had just been happening.

Jamal and Ruby were up on their feet in no time, their hands stretching into the air. “Me!” They spoke simultaneously, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“I’ll do it.” Cesar stood up before they could say anything else, walking over to where you were standing and shoving his friends back into their seats as he passed them.

You thanked him when he took the bottle from you, pulling your hair over your shoulder and holding your arms over your breasts to keep your top in place as Cesar undid the knot at your back and wasted no time in starting to put on the sunscreen.

He was pretty much the only one who could touch you without Oscar throwing a fit, he knew, so even though they would be mad at him for a week for robbing them of the opportunity to touch you, he had just done them a huge favor.

Lifesaving, really.

Once he finished doing your back, he tied your top back up and you adjusted the front before turning to smile at him. “Gracias.” You thanked him, kissing his cheek, and he nodded with a smile of his own.

He only got the time to make his way back to his original spot before you were approached by some other guy, the stranger waltzing up to you with pure confidence in his step.

Kind as you were, you smiled at him, thinking he was just going to pass by, but instead, he stopped right in front of you, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“Yes?”

The guy raised a hand to scratch his neck, looking at you from through his sunglasses. “I’m sorry if this is extremely forward but I saw you from across the pool and just thought you were so beautiful, I couldn’t stay away. Would it be possible to get your number?”

He flashed a near-flawless smile, but of course, it wasn’t Oscar’s. Now, his smile could make you weak at the knees.

You offered him a sad smile back. “No, I’m sorry. I have a boyfriend.” You answered. “But I’m flattered.”

Letting people down was always hard for you. Not because you were interested or felt bad for them, but because you hated being put in awkward positions. Luckily, this guy didn’t seem to be a creep, but rather a decent human being, which always made things easier.

His face fell. “Oh, damn.” He swore, letting his hand drop from his neck. “Where is he now then? Your boyfriend, I mean.”

“He’s… around.” You told him, not even sure yourself. The place was crowded on this hot day and he could have been anywhere. “And he’s really protective so you should go before he comes back.” You added, knowing that Oscar would make a bigger deal out of it than needed if he came back and found you talking to some other guy.

And just your luck, he chose just this time to return, his form appearing behind the guy and heading straight for you, a glare already resting on his face and his fists clenched at his sides, showing you that he had already caught sight of you.

“Yeah, actually you should go right now.” Jamal agreed with a nervous laugh, looking behind him.

As everyone else’s eyes also found Oscar’s quickly approaching form, the guy you still hadn’t learned the name of turned around too, eyes growing wide with anxiety as he caught sight of the tall and muscular cholo coming straight for him.

“Who’s this?” Oscar wasted no time in getting up in his face as he reached you. “Who are you? Were you talking to my girl? Because we’re gonna have a problem if you were, blanco.”

You hurried to step in between them, the guy taking a step back out of fear. “He was just leaving.” You told him, holding him in place.

The guy nodded his head, agreeing with you and taking another step back. “Yeah, man. I’m sorry.” He turned to you then, offering you a quick nervous smile. “It was nice to meet you.”

Returning his smile, you nodded, fastening your grip on Oscar’s arms as he jerked forward slightly. “It was nice to meet you, too. Bye.”

And with that, he turned around and walked away.

Oscar’s eyes followed his form all the way until he was out of his line of sight, and once he was gone, he tore himself out of your grip, his body dripping with water.

“Nice to meet you, huh?” He questioned with a glare. “You interested in other guys now?”

You only rolled your eyes, far too used to his jealous behavior. And it was even more understandable now with the anger he was building up with his dad being back. “Calm down. I’m not worried about you having side chicks so you shouldn’t either.”

“Bitch, the only side chicks I’ll ever have is your other personalities.” He fired back.

“Funny.” You glared, not batting an eye at the insult. “Calm down before you do something you regret.”

He glared back, taking a step closer to you and taking you into his arms. “I think I might need some motivation not to kill anyone.” He said, nuzzling his face into your neck.

The glare on your face instantly fell and a chuckle left your lips at the feeling of his beard tickling your skin. “I can’t fuck you if you’re in prison, papi.” You answered, hands coming up to hold on to his upper arms while his roamed your waist, the two of you not caring in the slightest that you were in public.

Ruby and Jamal watched from behind you, now munching on a sandwich each in a desperate attempt to keep their cool, eyes wide as your words reached their ears.

“God, that’s hot.”

Oscar’s face instantly whipped up from your neck, eyes landing on Ruby at the sound of his voice, the two boys jumping in their seats and letting out sounds of surprise.

But you were right behind him, raising one of your hands to grab a hold of his chin and turning his head to look at you with a glare. “What’d I tell you, huh? Leave them alone.” You instructed, feeling his body tense against yours.

You leaned in and pecked his lips chastely, moving your hands to his where they were resting on the small of your back and prying them away, taking them in yours.

“Let’s go for a swim.” You said, and he said nothing, simply letting you drag him away from the younglings.

As you walked away, his hand found its way down to your ass, squeezing the flesh while glaring at Jamal and Ruby over his shoulder.

The two of them watched with wide eyes, unable to tear their eyes away from his no matter how scared they were, and their eyes only widened further when Oscar raised his other hand to his eyes and used his pointer and middle finger to do an ‘I see you’-gesture at them.

Noticing what he was doing, you slapped his chest and forced him to turn back forward, and only then did Ruby and Jamal let out the breaths they had no idea they had been holding until then, the sight causing Cesar to break out into laughter.

They turned to him, both of them sporting a furious glare each. “How can you be laughing right now?!” Ruby exclaimed, eyes struck with fear. “He’s going to kill us!”

Cesar only nodded as his laughter died down to an easy chuckle, his eyebrows raising in agreement. “If you keep looking at (Y/N) like she’s a piece of meat then yeah, probably. And it won’t be painless.”

“Oh, man.” Jamal cried, forcing the entirety of the rest of his sandwich into his mouth, causing the rest of his words to come out muffled. “I’m too young to die.”

For the first time that entire time, Monse, who had been sunbathing peacefully on her towel alongside Jasmine, sat up and removed her sunglasses, looking at them.

“Well, there’s a simple solution.” She deadpanned, holding herself up on her elbows.

Jamal and Ruby turned to her with a mixture of doubt and desperation in their eyes, asking. “What?”

She simply shrugged her shoulders, giving them a sarcastic and annoyed smile. “Just don’t look.” She answered, and with that, put her sunglasses on again and laid back down, leaving the boys to look at Cesar, who simply gave them a shrug and grin in agreement.

They knew it was the only solution, but for two horny teenage boys, keeping their eyes to themselves was easier said than done, and at second thought, maybe it wouldn’t be the worst way to die.

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misteria247 · 3 years

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Life in a village was a very familiar and boring thing you'd learned growing up. From the moment you were born, you had known nothing else but the village and its way of life. From the hot sun of the savanna hitting your back to the tiny huts that held your fellow villagers. All of these things were things that you knew and grew up with, the same routine everyday for as long as you could remember. A boring routine that you'd come to somewhat dread if you were being honest with yourself, however despite being old enough to leave the village you felt you couldn't. You knew nothing but the stories told of the world outside your village and you'd come to be somewhat anxious at the thought of leaving your home despite how bored you'd become. Plus you had another reason for staying in the quiet, sleepy village. Your beloved father, the chief leader of the village needed you. The two of you took care of one another, and you couldn't imagine life without him being somewhere nearby you.

So you stayed, doing your daily routine that had long since grown stale. You'd wake up and feed your livestock and then help your father and fellow villagers with whatever they needed without compliant. Though sometimes when night fell and you were alone with your thoughts you couldn't help but wish for something to change. For something exciting to happen to your usually mundane existence. However once those thoughts came through you quickly dismissed them not wanting to dwell on such things. After all you had your place among the village and even though it was dull you loved your home and the peace that you'd grown up in.

But what you'd failed to realize was that peace didn't last forever.

It'd been just another day for you. You'd woken up with the rising sun and went to feed your livestock before cleaning up and making breakfast for you and your father. The smell of food cooking had awoken him just as it always did and he'd sat down at the table to eat his meal. The two of you spoke about the errands that needed done when your father had let out a small coughing fit. You gazed at him in concern but he'd waved you off saying that it was nothing. You hesitantly let it go despite the unease you'd felt whenever you'd heard him cough. After you two finished eating you put the dishes away and giving your father a goodbye kiss on his cheek you left your hut and went to start your day. It was around mid day when you'd received the news. You'd been helping one of the older villagers with their garden when your father's adviser came running towards the hut, kicking up dust from behind him.

"Lady (Y/N)! Thank the gods I'd found you-!"

The adviser said in between pants. You stood up from your crouched position, wiping your hands off on your dress, a confused look on your face.

"What's the matter? You're practically out of breath-"

You'd started to say before you were interrupted by the adviser.

"It's your father! He's collapsed!"

The sentence sent an icy chill into your veins, your heart stopping for a moment.

"What?!? Take me to him now!"

You commanded already picking up your bag and ready to go. Everything after that was a blur to you. You followed the adviser back towards the place where your father was. Bursting into the hut you felt your stomach twist into knots when you took sight of him. Your father laid in bed, his skin pale and clammy. His breathing was wispy and rattling slightly as he struggled to breath. Whenever he'd gotten enough air he'd cough, the sound making your heart drop as you realized that the little coughing fit from this morning had gotten worse. The healer was with him, his withered face filled with a solemn look. You could barely process what he'd told you afterwards. Just bits and pieces of the conversation sticking to you like leeches onto your skin.

Severely sick, no known cure, doesn't have much time left.

It was a nightmare. A horrible nightmare that you couldn't wake up from. After you'd dismissed the healer and your father's adviser you'd took over taken care of your father. You refused to leave his side, staying with him all throughout the rest of the day and night. Whenever you weren't with him you searched for a cure to his illness. Soon that day turned into days, then days turned into weeks. The longer time passed the more bleak your father's fate became. With each passing day he grew worse and the healer as well as yourself were at a loss of what to do. So you turned to your father's sacred library and opened the ancient tomes to see if you could find anything, growing more and more desperate for something. Anything to save your beloved father. It was then you'd stumbled upon the legend, one that had been told for generations.

The kingdom of the Afterglow Savanna.

It was said that those who lived there were full of magic and had an abundance of healing herbs and other medicines. Those who sought help for illnesses and other things would go to the people of the land and seek guidance from them. However the land had vanished, no trace of the Afterglow Savanna remained and after many centuries passed the kingdom had been nothing more than a myth. A story told to children before bed or at campfires surrounded by companions. But now.....now you couldn't help but consider it as a possible route to check out. As you closed the tome again you heard your father's raspy rattling cough, the sound making your heart break slightly. Your father was running out of time.

'If there's even a small chance of this place being real.....if there's even a small chance that I can save my father.....then I'll take it. I won't know unless I try.'

With a newfound resolve you began to pack. You grabbed everything you deemed necessary, from the ancient book about the kingdom to food and water. Once your knapsack was full you wrote a note to the healer and the adviser, letting them know that you would be gone for a while and for them to keep an eye on the village. Once written and placed on the desk you silently made your way towards your father's bedroom. You took in the sight of him, his clammy skin and swallow breathing. With quiet steps you made your way to his bed and bent down to give him a kiss on his feverish forehead, fighting the sudden lump in your throat.

"I'll be back papa. I'm going to save you, no matter what. Just please.....hang on. I love you....."

You whispered softly to his unconscious body. With a great amount of effort you pulled yourself away from him and left the hut and disappeared into the night. You passed by all the homes that held your villagers before finally hitting the edge of the village. You stopped for a beat, sudden anxiety hitting you as you realized what exactly what you were planning to do dawned on you. For the first time in your life you were going to leave the village. The only home you'd ever known. You had no idea how you were going to do this, and for a brief moment you considered turning back around and forgetting this whole thing. Then you thought back to your father, remembering how he was before getting sick. You remembered how healthy his (S/C) skin was before it'd been pale and feverish. How the sun hit his hair that he braided with beads and other things and how his (E/C) hues sparkled with pride and love whenever he'd see something you'd accomplished. Your father who raised you when your mother died, your father who was the most important person in your life. Your father who was currently dying from an illness that had no known cure.

'If I turn around now then papa is going to die. I can't let that happen. Come on (Y/N), you can do this. You're the daughter of the greatest chief this village has ever known. A bloodline that is fearless. You can do this, it's in your blood.'

With a deep breath and with a straightened posture, you braced yourself and stepped out of the village line and made your way into the dusty lands that laid ahead of you. With a determined fire burning within your (E/C) eyes you started your journey.

You would save your father.

Even if it killed you.

*..........Hehehehe I know I've got several other things going on in the world of writing but......I couldn't help myself. I'd had this idea in my head for a bit on and off and I'd decided to write something for it. It's not really good but I enjoyed writing it! My thought process was along the lines of this: Princess from a small village goes on a life changing journey to save her father whose been affected by an unknown illness. Along the way she meets a few companions (cough Leona, Ruggie, and Jack) who all are searching for the kingdom of Afterglow Savanna for their own reasons. Possible romance between the two main characters (cough you and Leona). That's all I got so far shdhdhdhg. Anyways I don't know if I'll continue this but I hope you like it! Anyways if any y'all read this I hope you enjoyed it!*

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early2000smovieimagines · 3 years

Text

Meeting and Dating Horace Mahoney

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You and Horace meet prior to him being captured by Cyrus. Ever since you’d moved to town, you’d made a habit of walking your dog past his scrapyard every evening.

- During one of these walks, your little pooch managed to wriggle free and run into the abandoned area and, like a rational pet owner, you ran after them.

- Soon enough, you were wandering down the rows of old, busted up cars and calling your pets name, growing more and more worried the longer you were inside the eerie area.

- Before you really started to panic, you luckily spotted them at the end of one of the aisles ...though they weren’t the only thing you spotted.

- It nearly gave you a heart attack when you first noticed the figure in front of them but you figured it was the owner of the lot and called out an apology and short explanation; which was backed up by the fact your dog was standing a few feet from them. They didn’t answer.

- Calling your dogs name, your skin began to crawl as the man remained stationary and silent. You called your dogs name again and they finally turned towards you, leisurely returning to your side as you nervously glanced from them to the man.

- You called out another apology, hoping that maybe he’d just hadn’t heard you or that he’d do something to ease your nerves but he remained still and silent. After quickly bending down to scoop up your dogs leash, you glanced up again and found that the figure was gone and you were all alone.

- The hairs on the back of your neck rose and your heart skipped a beat before you quickly booked it out of there.

- The next day, you’d kept a much tighter grip on your pets leash as you passed but something caused you to stop in your tracks. ...A low whistle, long and eerie, filling the pretty sunset atmosphere with a sense of dread.

- Your dog perked up and pulled towards the fence of the junkyard though you were prepared and stood your ground. As you looked through the chain link fence, you spotted a figure amongst the rubble, one you could see far more clearly now that the sun was out.

- The same silhouette as the night before, white as a sheet, bullet riddled and seven foot tall; you immediately forced your dog to move and went back home.

- When you got back home, you began to research the junkyard and stumbled across the story of The Breaker. After that, you researched angry and lost spirits and; taking it upon yourself, you chose to attempt to release him from his purgatory.

- When you returned to the scrap yard, you tried your best to go about the ritual you’d looked up but in the midst of it, a shadow blanketed over you. You freezed in your place and turned to stare up at the hulking figure as it stood over you.

- Remaining still, you watched as the entity began to walk past you, sitting down on one of the busted up cars and staring you down. The two of you sat like that for a while, you being too afraid to move at first before your fear turned into curiosity.

- He didn’t hurt you; he hardly even approached you, he just sat in front of you, occasionally glancing at you before looking around his scrapyard.

- After some time, he merely faded into nothingness and you made your way out of the abandoned lot.

- You sort of thought you were going crazy so after a few days, you decided to go back and see if he was in fact real. He appeared just as you were about to leave, or at least you spotted him right then; after he watched from afar for a while.

- So you turned back around and wandered a bit closer, gradually making your way to his side. You’d continue to return to the junkyard sporadically throughout the next few months, finding that you somewhat liked his company or maybe that you just liked how he made your life more unnatural.

- One day you wanted to test a theory: the theory of if you could touch him, so; much to his confusion, you hesitantly reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. He did the same and thus, your sort of relationship began.

- Your relationship is going to be a slow burn for obvious reasons but after a couple months, he finally just comes up and pulls you into a strong, somewhat inexperienced kiss.

- When you pull away, you don’t know what to say ...so you don’t say anything. You just stare up at him in shock before quickly making your way out of the junkyard. You return a few days later and give him a hesitant, soft kiss, having contemplated the idea of dating a ghost and coming to the conclusion that you were willing to give it a try.

- So, for better or for worse, you begin your relationship with The Juggernaut.

- Well, he can’t leave the scrapyard and no ones going in there to bother you so the two of you can pretty much do whatever you like to each other without having to worry about anything.

- Speaking of: you probably shouldnt bring him around your friends; or anybody similar, because I don’t trust him and you probably shouldn’t either. He’s not the most in control ghoul out there.

- He always tries his best to be gentle with you, knowing that he’s got a lot of strength and could easily hurt you if he isn’t careful. He probably knows exactly how much pressure it would take to break one of your bones, he just doesn’t know exactly when things start to hurt so he treats you like you’re fragile.

- You’re going to be the one initiating most of the affection in your relationship because of his fear of hurting you. Over time, he’ll learn more about being soft and will be able to take the initiative.

- Rest assured, he never minds when you’re affectionate with him; he just isn’t used to it so he’ll look a tad bit uncomfortable.

- He stiffens whenever you give him a hug but he likes it. Regardless though, he’ll leave giving hugs to you since he doesn’t want to have some intrusive thought and/or accidentally hurt you.

- He’ll watch curiously as you play with his hands and fingers. He sort of finds it funny how small yours are compared to his.

- You’re usually the one to kiss him and they’re fairly soft and chaste. Sometimes, he’ll sort of linger by your side and lean down closer to you whenever he wants one.

- Later in your relationship, he’ll be the one giving the kisses and they’ll be a bit more rough and hard; at least at times.

- Sometimes, your seven foot tall boyfriend just has to pick you up so that you can give him a kiss and I think that’s beautiful.

- He’s obviously an extremely strong individual so he can easily lift you and/or whatever you’d like him to.

- Leaning your head on his shoulder and occasionally falling asleep on him while you’re sitting together. He’ll initially stiffen; like he does with all your affection, but he’ll slowly relax as you continue to slumber.

- Since he really doesn’t talk, he can’t exactly call you anything. If he did or when he does speak, he’ll usually just call you by your name since he wasn’t really exposed to pet names.

- Introducing him to a lot of new things since he lived a fairly sheltered life; and because he’s been dead for quite some time.

- He likes listening to you talk and explain things. He thinks your voice is pretty and he never went to school so anything you want to tell him is fine by him; even if it’s boring to most people.

- He doesn’t talk very much; if at all, and he certainly doesn’t like talking about his life so you’ll be the one carrying the conversation.

- I’m making it canon that he whistles more than he speaks. It’s one of the few sounds you’ll ever really hear out of him and while it’s sort of eerie when it’s the middle of the night and you’re somewhat drifting off to sleep in the junkyard, you soon learn to love it.

- Sitting in the junkyard, probably looking up at the stars/sunset or starting a small bonfire. I’m sure that the place is condemned and full of horror stories so people will rarely bother you; even if there is a fire.

- Following him around as he goes about his day. He’s sort of confused as to why you’d just want to watch him do nothing or crush random stuff, etc, but he certainly isn’t going to complain.

- While Horace has a habit of watching people, he looks at you with a far less murderous gaze.

- The main reason Horace snapped is because he lost his father; the last person in his life, and had no one to steer him so I think with your help, he could somewhat resolve the issues that have plagued him after his old mans death.

- He definitely has some attachment issues so you can’t just not visit him for a long time; especially without giving him a warning.

- He really doesn’t want you to be afraid of him so he’ll try his best to deter you from researching him any more than you already have.

- He doesn’t believe you when you compliment him but he appreciates that you’d try to lie for no reason other than to just make him relatively happier.

- He’ll occasionally just very gently and tenderly pick things off of you or out of your hair and it’s just the sweetest little thing to you whenever he does.

- Junk gifts. Want a cool hubcap or car emblem? They’re all yours honey.

- Weed bouquets. Roses don’t exactly grow in car cemeteries, alright? But he’s heard you mention receiving flowers so if you want them, then he’ll try his best to provide.

- Please let him see your dog/s. He had some of his own; that he fed his victims to, so he’s quite fond of them.

- Having a little hideout made out of crushed cars. You like to sit in it either with him or just to relax while he goes about his ghostly day.

- Having a bad day? Sometimes, he’ll just silently hand you some kind of tool and lead you to a wrecked car, urging you to take your anger out on it. He always found it cathartic to break things.

- Board games and puzzles.

- Reading to him. He’s more likely than not illiterate so he likes being able to hear stories for once in his “life”.

- You’ve basically got a big, dangerous jungle gym to play on when you’re with him. He’ll usually stay close to your side as you explore the junkyard, catching you when you trip and steering you away from certain things.

- I assume he has a truck that he can supernaturally operate so the two of you can drive through the lot together during the night.

- He’s sort of envious of you; and definitely envious of the people around you. I mean, you’re alive, you’re attractive. You got to live your life properly and he got jack shit; not that he could hold any of that against you.

- I’m sorry but Horace is the type of spirit that would genuinely consider killing you so that you could be with him forever. The only real thing stopping him is the fact that he can’t be sure that you’d end up actually being stuck with him in the afterlife.

- Horace; in real life, lived a solitary life. He only really had his father so now that he has you; someone else who genuinely loves and cares for him, he’s not going to allow anyone to threaten your relationship.

- On the same note: Horace is extremely protective of you, regardless of his dark thoughts about you. He’s never going to let anything else hurt you; all you’ll have to do is lead them into the scrap yard.

- You kind of really don’t want to get into a fight with him so it’s a good thing you usually don’t. It’s best to just give him space whenever he’s angry, whether at you or something else. He doesn’t want to hurt you but he has his compulsions.

- You’ll give him a few days to cool off before returning, apologizing if you did something or asking if he’s alright if it wasn’t your fault. If he’s the cause of the problem then you’ll go back when you’re over it and will be able to accept his nonverbal apologies.

- Like I said: I don’t think Horace talks all that much in general so it certainly won’t be common for him to tell you that he loves you.

- As for most relationships with supernatural beings, the future isn’t something either of you can really anticipate so you just enjoy the time you have together while you can.

#2000s movie headcanon #2000s movie headcanons #2000s movie imagine #early 2000s movie headcanon #early 2000s movie headcanons #early 2000s movie imagine #thirteen ghosts headcanon #thirteen ghosts imagines #thirteen ghosts headcanons #thirteen ghosts imagine #Horace Mahoney imagine #Horace Mahoney headcanons #Horace Mahoney headcanon #Horace Mahoney imagines

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Physical Fatality Part 10- Salve

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warnings for brief mention of background character death and description of unprotected sex

Masterlist

“The first person I ever loved was named Kiyomi.”

It’s certainly not how you expected Hawks to start this conversation but it had taken nearly half an hour of him pacing for him to sit down next to you on the bed and spit out even that much so you decide to just let him talk.

“I was 18, fresh onto the hero scene and still in that post-debut hustle trying to prove myself. She was a college student. She told me that we’d make it till she graduates. I told her heroism would be worth the wait but she wanted me in an office with a 9-5. We didn’t last. The next girl I fell in love with was Yua. I thought it’d be better because she was a hero too so she’d understand, but before I could ask her out she died in a villain attack. Then there was this one girl with an attitude I met on a mission up north. We never told anyone we were together and in the end we both had way better things to do so we didn’t last long, but I always think about her when I’m in the area.”

“Hawks why are you telling me all this?” you finally ask, starting to get impatient for him to reach the point. You didn’t relish in hearing about his past lovers even if you figured he was telling you for a reason.

“I’m getting to the point I promise. The last one before you was Mirko. I loved her but I lost her because as great as things were going she wanted more time from me and I loved work more than I did her. But when I met you? Fuck (y/n) it was like every single person before you was suddenly meaningless. That night at the gala I was looking for Mirko but the moment I laid eyes on you I forgot all about her. You are genuinely the first person I’ve ever loved more than anything else and I’m sorry I hurt you baby, I am. It’s not that I don’t love you, I’m just bad at love,” he finally finishes.

“If you’re so bad at love then why are you here right now?” You ask. “Can you blame me for trying to be better? Look I could lie and say you’re the one that will finally fix me but the truth is I don’t know, ok? I just know that I want you to be. I want so badly for you to be. Can’t that be enough?” he asks, no pleads, of you and it breaks your heart. “It’s not my job to fix you Hawks. Especially when I’ve got my hands full keeping my career from going to shit,” you reply. “You’re right. Fuck, sorry, you’re right that’s not what I meant. I just...,” he sighs running frustrated fingers through his hair before turning back to you again with a desperate but determined look in his eyes. “For the first time I don’t want to be resigned to being bad at this. I’m asking for patience and a second chance,” he clarifies. “I’m scared,” you finally admit and immediately Hawks is kneeling in front of you, his hands gently cradling either side of your face as he forces you to make eye contact with him. “I know that you’re afraid I’m gonna walk away again but I won’t. I swear to you I won’t,” he promises and his eyes are so full of conviction that your resolve finally crumbles. There’s no denying how genuine he is in this moment and you are so, so tired of hurting him. So you let go of the anger and the hurt you’ve been clinging to for dear life since the moment you read that damned article. “I believe you Keigo,” you confess and it’s one less weight on your shoulders.

You’re shocked at the desperation with which Keigo surges up to press his mouth to yours, his once gentle grip tightening possessively. He pulls away just a bit, his forehead still pressed to yours. You’re both out of breath and panting already and you’re about to close the distance between the two of you again but Keigo pulls away. You whine your disagreement as your hands go to his shirt to try and pull him back into you but he insists. “Say it again,” he commands, his voice shaking. “What?” you ask dazed. “I need to hear you say it again. Please.” “I believe you Keigo.” “Again.” “I believe you Keigo.” “I love you. I’m so sorry.” “I love you too.”

Finally his hands move to your waist, slipping underneath your shirt to find bare skin, and it’s like cool salve on a burn. You hadn’t even realized how deeply you’d ached for him all this time until he was laying you down against the bed. His body baring down on you as he presses you into the mattress. Your lips connect again and all you can think is that you need more of him. You open your mouth in an invitation he gladly accepts to slide his tongue in and tangle it with yours. The kiss lacks finesse, it’s probably the sloppiest the two of you have exchanged, but now is not the time for gentle, tantalizing skill. Not when the two of you have been denying each other all this time. The two of you separate only for brief intervals in order to shed clothing and underwear until there’s nothing left keeping you apart. Finally, finally it’s just skin on skin, your hearts pounding in your chests as if trying to escape and finally be together. “Need you,” you murmur against his lips and he immediately nods, his yearning for you just as overwhelming as yours for him. He presses his throbbing erection into your tight, wet heat so slowly and carefully as if you might break. Or perhaps more accurately as if you might disappear. You realize that every kiss, every touch, every movement he’s made has carried an element of disbelief, as if he cannot fathom that he’s finally with you like this again. By the time he’s fully seated inside you Keigo is absolutely trembling. The two of you stay like that for awhile, just breathing each other in, appreciating the intimacy of being so connected. One of your hands caresses Keigo’s cheek. “Baby why are you shaking?” you ask, even though you’re afraid of the answer. “I just thought I’d never have this again,” he confesses. “I’m so sorry Kei,” you whisper but he shakes his head. “I deserved it.” “No you didn’t. Not all of it.” “I’m the reason everything’s fucked now.” “Faced with Endeavor and the evidence you had, I probably would’ve done the same thing if I were in your position. And the paparazzi stuff I played a part in too.” “But I hurt you.” “And then I hurt you right back.”

It’s quiet for a moment as the two of you let the words hang in the air. You expected the admission to feel heavy but you actually feel the lightest you have in weeks. “We really are a mess aren’t we?” you finally chuckle with a slight shake of your head. “I’d rather be a mess with you than perfect with anyone else,” he swears. “That’s a bit corny isn’t it?” you tease. “Oh absolutely. But I mean every word of it,” he replies easily before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. It doesn’t take long for it to become heated again. “I’m gonna need you to start moving baby,” you whisper into his ear as one of your hands drifts to the base of his wings to spur him on. “Shit Love, well I guess if you need me that bad,” he smirks but a quick tug on his feathers has him hissing instead. He gives a quick roll of his hips in retaliation before starting to move in and out of you in earnest. God how you’ve missed this, missed him. For the first time since everything went to shit you’re not worrying about your career or All Might or the press or anything else. With each languid thrust, each muttered curse, each lust-filled moan, Keigo cleanses you of the worries and anxieties that have haunted your every waking moment. In him you find relief and bliss and ecstasy, such sweet ecstasy. When the two of you reach your climaxes your moans sound more like sobs as you cling tightly onto each other, scared to let go and risk discovering this was all a dream.

When you both come down from your highs Keigo doesn’t let go, just cuddles you close to him and let’s his feathers tuck you both into your bed. “Do you have any other plans for tonight?” he asks. You shake your head no as you bury yourself closer against him. “Good,” he responds before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Hours pass the two of you by as you simply hold onto each other, barely speaking, just reveling in each other’s company. You don’t even notice yourself drifting off to sleep, it’s just one moment you’re listening to the quiet sounds of Keigo’s breathing and the next you’re slipping into the first restful sleep you’ve had in a long time.

You wake up to the sound of Keigo’s alarm. He shuts it off quickly but makes no move to extricate himself from your hold or otherwise get out of bed. “You gonna get up and go to work?” you ask. “Don’t really want to,” he sighs, “I’d rather stay in here with just us.” “We can’t stay in here forever,” you point out. “You sure about that? It sounds infinitely more appealing than dealing with Monoma this early in the morning,” he groans. “Believe me I wish we could too, but you have terrorists to catch and I’ve got people to save so,” you gently remind him. “Five more minutes?” “Fine, five more minutes.”

Five minutes passes by all too quickly and soon the two of you are forcing yourselves out of bed. It’s oddly reminiscent of that first night together. Both of you getting redressed without nearly the urgency you should. Both of you ignoring the dread building at the thought of stepping out of the little bubble you had created. Once you’re both dressed and ready you link hands again and step out of your room. Almost immediately you feel the weight of your responsibilities land heavily on your shoulders once again. The two of you move through the apartment to your front door and it feels like that crossroads moment in the hallway when both of you had run opposite directions without so much as getting a name. You hope he’ll understand why you’re going to once again choose to part ways. “You go on ahead Love, I think I’m going to wait to head to the office until closer to my shift,” you tell Hawks as you hesitate in the doorway. “Are you sure?” he asks. “I’m sure. You go ahead though, tell the others I say hi,” you insist. He gives you a worried look but agrees, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before leaving. “Looks like you two are doing better,” a voice comments behind you. You turn around to find your new roommate standing watching you as he eats cereal out of a bowl nonchalantly. “I’m gonna be honest I have already forgotten your name again,” you confess. “Denki.” “Right, Denki. Thanks I guess.” “You’re welcome. Why didn’t you go with him to work?” “All of my coworkers except for the ones who will be busy working with him think I’m a traitorous slut.” “Yikes.” “Yea.” “Anyway I can help?” “You could make me breakfast to make up for picking the lock on my door.” “Fair enough.”

Author’s Note: This was difficult to write tbh because the content from the song it’s based on tapped out pretty quickly and I needed to figure out narratively where else it needed to go, especially considering what’s coming down the pipeline. I hope the result was satisfying and you guys enjoy it though

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead

#hopelesspf #hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n

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stark-tony · 3 years

Text

most recent bookmarks (5/8/21)

bnha

5 Times Midoriya Taught Class 1A about Memes and 1 Time they Found a Villain that Understood Them by MaddCatter (1.2k, G, gen) After being diagnosed as quirkless, Midoriya gets into pre-guirk media and finds memes. He shares them with Class 1A. Aizawa doesn't get paid enough for this.

a glimpse of tomorrow (looking back) by achievingelysium (7.9k, T, gen, bullying) Subject: Aldera Time Capsule Ceremony Forwarded Message— This year marks ten years for the Aldera Middle School graduating class of 20XX.To celebrate, we would like to invite pro heroes Kingpin and Deku, Aldera alumni, to participate in a public time-capsule opening. We are incredibly proud to have helped them on their journeys to becoming heroes, and would be most honored to receive them as guests and for them to speak at the ceremony. [...]"Well," Deku says, leaning over to turn the monitor towards him. His eyes flick over the contents of the email one more time. "If they haven't changed, then I guess we could return the favor."Ten years down the line, Bakugou and Midoriya are invited to a time capsule ceremony at their middle school to read letters from their past selves, and look back on their past and how it shaped their future. For anyone else, it would have been a celebration.For the two of them, it's an opportunity.A look into Bakugou and Midoriya's past—through a future neither of them imagined—as pro heroes, agency partners, and friends. (Written for NWA: Prompts for All Event.)

Watch The World Burn by Quisanne (33k, T, gen, bullying) Shouta and Toshinori were successful in their attempt to gather evidence about the wrongdoings of Aldera Middle School. It doesn't take long, though, to realize that there are many more things out there in hero society that need fixing. Fixing as in throwing a feral Yagi Toshinori at the problem and hoping everything turns out fine, that is.

Razzmatazz by xylophones (168.5k, T, gen) Izuku has plans for everything.He plans out what to say to the cashier when ordering coffee, he plans out his homework before even opening his textbook. He has a whole ten-year plan for how he’s going to get into UA’s hero course and get his hero license fully quirkless. He plans for every wild, unlikely scenario he can think of because his anxiety gets so bad if he doesn’t go through every possible outcome, every way his life could landslide into disaster–– but Izuku never planned for this.For once, he doesn’t have a plan and he doesn’t have time to think of one. All he can see is Yagi-san’s lined, kind face looking resigned as he stares down the villain in his shop. Yagi-san, who is the closest thing to a father figure Izuku has ever had.Izuku doesn’t think. He just moves.(Or: Izuku saves the number one hero, gets a hero license way earlier than anyone wanted, realizes that maybe hero society isn’t as great as he thought it was, and everything just kind of falls apart from there.)

almost never losing by blueh (4.6k, T, gen) It’s been five years since Izuku has last stepped foot there, but the words Aldera Middle School still bring him an unprecedented amount of dread. It’s accompanied by middle school reunion scribbled underneath which has the added bonus of making Izuku want to go hide under Iida’s desk and not come out.He puts the letter, unopened, on his desk and resolves not to think about it.“You’re just going to let them win?”… Izuku resolves to not think about it for the two seconds that Kacchan allows him not to think about it.or: Two year after graduating UA, Aldera Middle School hosts its first middle school reunion in honor of not one, but two former students graduating and becoming pros.Izuku’s not quite sure he even wants to go, until suddenly he does.

Putting Infinity into Words by redrobin1989 (8.3k, G, gen) Soul Mates have evolved with quirks to become Soul Bonds in which one feels the entire emotional spectrum and a fact about their future relationship. Or so Izuku had heard, he'd only ever two Soul Bonds and they both caused him pain. Until All Might and Yuuei and he finally learned what it was like to have a loving, thriving Bond.

an old friend or two by neon_air (8.3k, G, gen) When Midoriya Izuku began hearing whispers in his head after gaining One for All, he didn't think much of it. When the whispering escalated to full thoughts, suggestions, and that somehow escalated to a couple of ghosts tailing him around, then he began to think much of it.Or, how Midoriya Izuku and the vestiges of One for All become one big mish-mash of a family.

New Discoveries by deafmic (826, G, erasermic) Eri has never seen a cat in her life and when coming home for the first time, is terrified of Aizawa's.

Father's Day by Fallende (2.7k, G, gen) “T-this is for you!” His successor says. "For me?" Toshinori Yagi asks. "What's the occasion?" "No occasion!" The boy insists. It's a lie.

One Step by GEMoore990 (5.2k, T, gen) Doctors and Izuku don’t mix.Which was why it felt like the floor fell under him when Aizawa-sensei announced they would be going to the hospital for checkups.Or just because Izuku has a quirk now doesn’t mean that his body physically isn’t quirkless anymore.

possession is only one-ninth of a quirk by PachiiRiisu (9.2k, T, gen) “You’re right on the money; to be more accurate, I’m in Midoriya’s body. In truth, I’m… one of the previous holders,” The words “of One For All” are left unsaid.What.“What the fuck,” Katsuki eloquently says. He can already feel a headache forming, if it hadn’t begun already.Or: 5 times Bakugou covers for Deku’s weird quirk, and 1 time he doesn't.

Official by BeeDaily (1k, T, jily) James is caught eavesdropping in the library.

mcu

the little things by crowkag (4.2k, T, gen, kidnapping) Minutes tick away, and by the time Tony finishes the three emails Pepper had copied him into, Peter is a snoring ball in his lap. Shutting his laptop, he carefully leans forward to place it on the coffee table, drawing back with the forgotten can of root beer in his hands. Peter prefers his sodas flat when he drinks them—probably because he’s weird and has no sense of taste—so Tony pops the tab open with a soft hiss and settles it on the side table.Tipping his head back on the couch, he lowers his fingers to run absentminded tracks through Peter’s curls.He’s my weird kid, though, he thinks with a smile, already drifting into sleep himself.(or: Ten little instances of love between Tony and Peter.)

i know who his dad is (it's you) by imeanthatsprettysnazzy (3.6k, gen, spideychelle) “Spider-Man, as in the guy that stops robberies in Queens?” Pepper asked slowly. “That kid — that little tiny baby kid — is Spider-Man?”“Yeah…” Tony stared at her, still not really understanding what the hell was happening here. “As far as I can tell. All signs point to yes, and all that. Who did you think he was?”Pepper blinked again, slower. She shook her head hurriedly. “No, I — I thought he was your kid.”“What?”“Well, what else was I meant to think?” Pepper exclaimed, looking at him like he was insane. “You’re sitting there, very clearly pretending like you’re okay, with information on a kid that was born during the middle of your crazy years!” [People think that Peter is Tony's kid.]

atla

Three-Body Problem by JustGettingBy (6.3k, T, gen) In this world, the war ends early.Events ripple out from there.AKA The Hakoda and Zuko arranged marriage turned adoption au

#bnha recs #hp recs #atla recs #mcu recs #my fic recs #most recent bookmarks #bullying tw #kidnapping tw

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dreadfutures · 3 years

Photo

And @crackinglamb who also tagged me!

I’ve had a really awful week but I’ve been slowly chipping away at this very important conversation between Ixchel and Solas. And I’d actually appreciate thoughts on this. I’ll just listen to whatever anyone has to say. This is long though so I’m going to put it under the cut.

Question: Specifically, I'm trying to navigate this complicated cause/effect and question of autonomy and individuality in their relationship, which happens to hold the weight of the apocalypse over both their heads in different ways. It is important that they both can operate as they wish, without fearing they will misstep and drive the other away

Ixchel definitely is one of the reasons Solas ultimately confronts some of his stubbornness/willful blindness, as his friend and someone he respects--it’s the way she lives her life and the way she hopes and fights and the world she believes in that ultimately makes him see more paths available than his din’an’shiral. It's not that she loves him or he loves her.

And he's aware that because of so many complications and questions about her resurrection, that she constantly feels like it might indeed be her love--and lovability--that’s holding back the apocalypse. And their relationship will never be equal and truly healthy until she stops carrying that burden. Somehow she needs to learn to trust that he has made his decision and will continue to make decisions based off of himself, and not her.

But also at the same time, he loves her, and she loves him, and they do help each other with like, reinforcing each other's hope, and reminding each other what they're fighting for, that the fight is worth it, and when the other one is tired, being able to prop them up and help them keep going as equals. There are the shadows of her own anxieties and depression that aren't entirely based in reality, but there are also these fears that are so deeply founded in reality. idk.

The Excerpt:

Ixchel and Solas finished bathing and washed their clothes—smiling like the foolish da'lenala neither of them had ever had the luxury to be. She was full of wine and laughter, and she knew that there would only be more waiting back in the Hold.

But as they dried off in the warm evening sun and she thought about the celebration of Hakkon's rebirth, her mind strayed to the name the Spirits of the Basin had given her, and what she had done to earn it. The shock and gratitude she had felt upon hearing herself called 'God-Song' had faded some, and now the chill of anxiety returned to the pit of her stomach. She shivered despite the golden light that surrounded them, and she felt Solas's attention shift from the sky down to her again. He did not speak, but she felt the question in his eyes on her bare back. "Vhenan," she began in a low voice, "should I… The Spirits called to Mythal through me. Was it her power that they summoned with that song? Or my own? Or theirs?" His grip around her waist tightened. "Do not be afraid," he said, but of course that solidified the cold tendrils of anxiety into hard, heavy dread in her gut. "The Spirits here are older than many," Solas said haltingly, "but they are still young. They remember only echoes of…'elf songs,' they call them. The echoes by themselves have power, even if the subjects of the songs cannot hear. That is the power of a prayer, spoken where the Veil is thin." He took a deep breath, and after a moment of consideration he sat up beside her. He rested one arm across his knees and began to trace idle patterns across her cursed forearm with the other. "I do not think she heard you." She stared across at his tense jaw, though his eyes remained on the horizon. "We summoned Flemeth at Mythal's altar in the Arbor Wilds, with a song," she whispered. He tilted his head slightly. "Did you not have the Well of Sorrows in your company?" "Ah." She gave a shuddering laugh as something, not quite relief, swept through her. "That's true." Solas responded with a shallow nod, but then, for a moment, his chest seemed filled with words. She waited, but he did not speak them before sighing again. "What is it?" she asked, and bit her lip. Solas slipped his arm around her waist to shift her closer, and then he sought out the Anchor. He spread her palm open, and with deliberate slowness, he dipped the pads of his fingers into the shining tear of magic her skin. It was as though he might slip through her hand and into the Fade that way. A vicious shudder wracked her frame; the penetration itself felt strange and dull, like a cramp, and yet the magic in her hand came to life with a hot flare. She could see the spirals of his orb across her skin, as she often could if she examined her palm closely, but now she could see the green tendrils of green rift magic as they wound their way up her wrist and her forearm. To her horror, it was clear that the Anchor had embedded itself almost halfway up to her elbow. She could feel Solas draw upon it with his concentration, and yet the reaching veins of the Anchor did not retreat. The damage had been done. Her fingers had curled around his instinctively, until the bones in his hand seemed to creak in protest. "I will not let them have you," he said. The finality with which he spoke made her feel as though he were not quite answering her question. Some other conversation had played out in his mind, and he had come to this answer. She did not know exactly whether he spoke of Flemeth and Mythal, or even perhaps the all-consuming power of the Anchor. She stared down at their joined hands, eyes burning, which was likely a sign that she was too exhausted to handle these conversations. When she heard and saw the resolve in him, she should have been able to stifle the part of her that remembered how he spoke to her of the din'an'shiral he must walk alone. She should not have immediately been afraid that the calculation he had done in his head was about his loyalties. It should have been a settled matter, and yet, still, it was not. Ixchel took a deep breath and tried to swallow that part of her. "I am more concerned about what she might do with you, Solas," she said truthfully. "How did I end up with Old God's spent soul within me? How did he come to possess it, when Mythal had taken it? Was he moving to the beat of her drum—knowingly, or not?" She saw the slightest twitch of his ear and knew that she had touched on a raw topic there, too. But this was a better topic, and one that was just as important for her to know the answer to. "If I have enticed you from the path that she wanted you on… Should I not be afraid, to stand against Mythal?" He turned his head abruptly, and she met his piercing gray eyes dead-on. After a moment's consideration, he reached around her to stroke her cheek gently with the backs of his knuckles. And she knew immediately that he had heard, beneath this line of questioning, the doubt that still ate at her. There was no challenge in his gaze, but the look with which he pinned her was not soft, either. "My loyalty is to our People above all else," he said, to make her heart seize in her chest. He continued in a measured voice that was heavy with blood and wine. "In Wycome. In Halamshiral. In Serault, and Minrathous, in Skyhold, and across the Veil… If Mythal indeed remains, she would not keep me from such a duty. For all the fearsome tales of the Witch of the Wilds, I cannot believe the All-Mother, if she truly remains, would undercut that work." She gripped his hand ever tighter. "And you… You are not afraid of Mythal," he said, a bitter note coloring his words. "You are afraid of walking your path alone. You are afraid that you cannot hold the Dread Wolf at bay with the strength of your love. And you cannot. You have not." His breath was hot across her face as he drew closer—not to kiss her, of course not, but rather as though he might impress upon her the full weight of his words with the strength in his silver eyes. "You are the Champion of the People. You have sworn, and I have believed." He squeezed her hand back, to emphasize his point. "For as long as you hold true to your purpose, you are my Champion, 'ma'lath, 'ma'av'in. But as you insisted, you chose yourself first. You gave yourself a name, decided its meaning." He brushed her hair behind her ear and then settled his hand firmly at the back of her neck, fingers tangled in her hair to hold her, ground her. He gave her the smallest shake. "Let me do the same." Ixchel swallowed. "Hope is a choice," she murmured. "Yes," he replied, "it is. So is trust." He kissed her gently then, and she tried to lose herself to it. The hand at the back of her neck slipped back to her ribs, to pull her close against his chest. She could feel his heart beat steadily beneath their skin, a steady, certain rhythm. She sighed into his mouth, and he hummed in response. "Ir abelas," she whispered as she broke away. They rested their foreheads together, eyes closed. "Do not be," he said, more gently than before. He raised their joined hands between them and traced the scar that ran down her chest, over her heart. "For all your stalwart strength, Ixchel, for all that you have reforged yourself from ruin, you cannot be blamed for fearing the one who shattered you. Especially when you have given him the very tools with which to shatter you again." Ixchel lost her breath as his words impacted her physically, and she opened her eyes to see that he had, too. For a moment, they were no longer silver—but rather they burned with the blue light of a god's power. That terrible gaze was focused on something deep within her chest…something that responded, and reflected his power back at him in painful resonance. "If there is one burden you can put down," he said, voice falling to a lilting whisper, "it is that you still carry the responsibility of the death of a world in your heart. Please… You must know it was not your failure." The magic in his eyes faded, and his lashes flicked up as he caught her staring at him. There were creases of grief at the corners of his eyes. "My mistakes will always be my own." The grief in his face might have seemed incongruent with the hard and heavy weight of his words, but she could feel how they hurt him as much as they hurt her. "I have told you that you have changed everything, but it was not your love for me, nor even my love for you, that has changed my course. It is the harm I have done to the world, the harm I know I might yet do, that stays my hand. Ane mala vasreëm." Perhaps it was the tears he saw well up in her eyes, or maybe it was simply his anxious mind trying to cut off any possible way he could hurt her more than he had already, but his own face was suddenly torn with pain and apology. "In saying this, I might seem to take away from your perceived victory—" "No," she said suddenly. "Solas, I do not need to believe it a war between us." She freed her hands from his so she could brush briefly at her eyes. "Thank you. I have only ever cared for your path as a friend... I love you, but--" she could not stem the flow of her tears, and she laughed at herself. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. He obliged and held her tightly; warm, smooth skin pressed against her rough constellation of scars, and she was enveloped in his smell, his warmth, his magic. She knew that she was safe in his embrace. And she knew that he was right. Perhaps she could have thwarted the Dread Wolf's plans, had she not killed herself. But he had chosen his path, chosen to excise his heart and give it to her, and she had been right to think that to carry it—to redeem it, to return it—was a futile task. Solas had never betrayed her. He had never promised anything. Cole was right: Solas was only ever his own. It was Solas who had watched her walk her path. Solas had chosen to follow, open-eyed. And ultimately, it would be Solas who chose to stay. Life is a story written by two hands, after all.

#wip wednesday #btv wip wednesday #btv #solavellan #concrit welcome

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flatsuke · 4 years

Text

Webtoon Recommendations

I’ve spent a lot of time reading webtoons lately, so I wanted to recommend some of my faves!

The following are my personal thoughts and insights on some of the webtoons I’ve read:

1. The Evil Lady’s Hero

Status: Ongoing

Genre: Comedy, Drama, Fantasy, Josei, Romance, Isekai

Pros: I’m really enjoying the direction of this webtoon! The heroine is genre-savvy and full of guile, while the male lead is sweet....but with many hidden layers inside. I can tell this is a character-driven webtoon and not a plot-drive one (not that I mind), so most of the focus is on the chemistry between the two, and boy do they have chemistry and sexual tension. In particular, I really like the fact that it doesn’t feel too wish fulfillment-y, like most webtoons do.

Cons: It took a while for the art style to grow on me.

2. Who Made Me A Princess

Status: Ongoing

Genre: Comedy, Fantasy, Romance, Shoujo, Slice of Life, Isekai

Pros: First of all, the art is just amazing. I feel like Spoon puts so much thought and effort into every little detail (Athy’s outfits!!) in the webtoon, and I really appreciate that. Also, the plot is pretty compelling imo! The base plot is similar to a standard isekai, but the way the author executes the concept to make it into something compelling really blows me away. There are times when this webtoon gets really emotional and cathartic, and I think those moments of poignant storytelling are what sets this webtoon apart from the rest.

Cons: The pacing gets a little slow come Season 2, but it picks up again after a while!

3. Death is the Only Ending for the Villainess

Status: Ongoing

Genre: Drama, Fantasy, Historical, Psychological, Romance, Shoujo, Isekai

Pros: This webtoon is VERY cathartic (probably the most cathartic one I’ve ever read so far). I really sympathized with the heroine’s pain from the beginning, and every moment she interacts with the people around her (especially her prospective love interests) has me on the edge of my seat. Yes, the plot was probably designed to make the audience sympathize with her and woobify her (as most revenge reincarnation webtoons do), but I feel like this one does so without overdoing it and slipping into soap opera territory.

Cons: I normally don’t mind character-driven stories (as I think they’re more fun to read), but I do want to see some type of external conflict drive the plot aside from the heroine’s own issues.

4. The Villain’s Savior

Status: Ongoing

Genre: Drama, Fantasy, Josei, Romance, Tragedy, Isekai

Pros: The male lead for sure. He’s manipulative, conniving, vindictive, and obsessive — all under a princely facade. Though this might not be everyone’s cup of tea, I really liked how his inner darkness colored his interactions with everyone, especially the heroine. I’m a sucker for darker male leads, and this guy really takes the cake lmao. The stakes in this webtoon are also pretty high; there’s a real sense of urgency with the rising action of the plot. Oh, and the art’s amazing, too.

Cons: Now, I don’t normally nitpick on heroines because I usually give them the benefit of the doubt (especially since most heroines are young women who’ve traveled through spacetime), but man....there are moments that I wish the she’d be just a tad more genre-savvy.

5. Doctor Elise

Status: Ongoing

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Shoujo, Isekai

Pros: I really enjoyed how the heroine and the male lead got together. Their chemistry felt genuine to me, and the slow buildup of their eventual relationship was such a treat to read because 1) the meet cute scenario was done well, 2) it didn’t feel forced.

Cons: Well....now that they’re officially in a relationship, I feel like the pacing slowed down significantly without any substantial conflict. Also, there are some instances with the heroine that seem a little too contrived and convenient to be chalked up to her efforts alone.

6. Survive as the Hero’s Wife

Status: Ongoing

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Shoujo, Isekai

Pros: The slow burn between them is just so satisfying to read? Seeing the male lead’s absolute, unwavering devotion to the heroine is just hnnngh so good, especially considering this story is told in chronological order (from childhood to present). The side characters are also a treat, especially Gracie omg. She could get a webtoon of her own and I’d read the hell out of it.

Cons: At one point, this webtoon strayed dangerously close to misusing the dreaded misunderstanding trope, and it almost made me lose interest in it completely. Thankfully, they managed to resolve it without prolonging the drama even further.

7. Sincerely: I Became a Duke’s Maid

Status: Ongoing

Genre: Comedy, Drama, Fantasy, Romance, Shoujo, Isekai

Pros: Really nice buildup of the relationship. The pacing isn’t too rushed or slow in my opinion, and seeing how the male lead fell for the heroine felt really natural to me. I can also sense the impending conflict looming with the introduction of the new characters. I just know Big Suffering is coming and I’m excited!

Cons: None so far, actually!

8. The Blood of Madame Giselle

Status: Ongoing

Genre: Adult, Drama, Fantasy, Historical, Josei, Mature, Romance, Smut

Pros: THE BEST FOR LAST!! Wow, where do I even begin? First of all, the art is just so good, and wow they really nailed the designs for the heroine and the male lead? Character-wise, I’d say the heroine (Giselle) is my favorite webtoon heroine? She’s a cynical and tragic person trying to find some semblance of happiness in her miserable life. The male lead is an enjoyable mix of endearing and sensual (yes, you heard me!), and that makes for great chemistry between the two. The conflict is slowly brewing, and I can’t wait to see certain characters getting what they deserve lol. Also, the sex scenes are hot lmao.

Cons: NONE. I’d have to say this is my favorite webtoon so far.

#spade writes #spade recs #webtoon #the evil lady's hero #who made me a princess #death is the only ending for the villainess #the villain's savior #doctor elise #survive as the hero's wife #sincerely: i became a duke's maid #the blood of madame giselle #manhwa #webtoon recommendation #manhwa recommendation

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indigobackfire · 3 years

Note

26 and 30 for aspen and Diego!! -thimblerigshuffle

Thanks @thimblerigshuffle <3 <3

30) Who is embarrassed when they have to wear their glasses and who thinks they look super cute?

Aspen would definitely be embarrassed because she most certainly spent several years mocking Indigo and her glasses lovingly ofc. But then Diego would be all loving brushing her hair behind her ear, going "What's the shame in wanting to see the world clearer?" "Don't worry, we'll still be kissing eyes closed."

26) Who kissed first?

Aspen kissed Diego first. Given this opportunity, I'll try and write it 🙈 (damn is longer than I intended oops) (takes place in y6 during winter).

“Blimey, it’s dreich out here! Is this really a good idea?” Aspen asks.

Diego marches through the crisp cold air of the training grounds with confidence and excitement as if he was under the spring sun, not even his thick sweaters seemed to limit his movement. Aspen on the other hand kept her steps short on the sheet of snow and herself retracted under her two layers of sweatshirts and her chunkiest Slytherin scarf.

“Have I ever had a bad idea? Don’t answer.”

“Ya ken we can use the dueling club room.”

“It’s occupied.”

“Ugh! What about the Dragon Club?”

“They don’t appreciate my dueling very much over there since Indigo and I smashed the place. We apologized, fixed the mess up, but they’re not the most forgiving kind, unfortunately.” He turns around and holds a stance, signaling for her to stay in place, about three meters apart. “Besides, I want to duel you here!”

“But why!? It’s like two degrees right now!”

“You think a dark wizard would invite you in for a fight? ‘Oh, please, the weather is dreadful, let’s move this inside.’ I want you to get used to dueling under adverse circumstances. And with that attitude, I can’t help but wonder, are you even a Scotswoman?”

“Wow, now you—” She unwraps her scarf letting it loose around her neck, if he hadn’t such a pretty face she would’ve walked straight to him and shoved her wand in his eye. “Now you’ve offended my honour!”

“Ready your wand then!”

But Aspen wasn’t prepared, he shoots an Incendio that misses her for a hair’s distance.

“Diego!”

He smirks opening his arms. “Thought you might want a little heat.”

She shouts an Immobulus his way, but he ducks and sends an Expelliarmus making her wand fly over her head, falling behind her. Now, if she could stop and focus on something instead of her numb fingers or how her nose felt like it was about to fall off, she would’ve remembered his lesson on how to act in case a wand was lost, but her mind was still reacting to her body and instead of lowering to the ground, she tries to go after it on foot… on a straight line. He only gives her the time to pick her wand up before shouting, “Stupefy!”

She falls hard on her back and is left too embarrassed and angry to even get up. He walks to her. “What have I told you about turning your back to your opponent, Aspenita?”

“Is the duellers worst sin.”

“I even gave you a leeway, in a serious duel you wouldn’t even have time to process where the spell came from, you would be dead or worse.”

“Or worse…” She sits up. “Ah, great, my trousers are soaked! And my hair full of grass.”

“That’s what you get for not paying attention.”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, ugh—”

He furrows. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh, I think... ah, could ye…” And as he gets nearer, she pulls him by the ankle dropping him to the ground on his stomach. She’s cackling. “A new dueling rule for your playbook, Dieguito!”

He makes a both perplexed and impressed face to her, and as he kneels to try and advance towards her, she throws herself over him to get him back down, and with the weight of her torso, holding his arms back by his wrists, manages to keep him down.

“Does the snow feel good?” She says between teeth, pressing him down on the icy grass with her own body.

He struggles to free his wrists from her grip. “When did you get that strong?”

“Barnaby’s my best friend… or was, ah dinnae ken. I might’ve lost a couple of brain cells, but at least I put on some muscle. By seventh year I’ll be just as ripped.”

“Has Indigo and him… resolved their issues? Whatever they are.”

Aspen crosses her fingers and rests her chin on his chest, she can feel his heartbeat under her hands. “He refuses to tell me what’s wrong and she’s out acting like everything’s fine when it’s not. So no, they haven’t resolved a thing.”

“Barnaby still shows up for our fortnightly training but he’s usually quiet. Very strange for Barnaby, but on the other side, he’s never had a better performance before.”

“It breaks my heart to see them apart…If there was a pair that made me believe in true love, it was them.”

“Then there’s Phoenix and Ismelda—”

She holds his face. “Now, you stop. It’s frustrating enough the stuff with Indie and Barney, and now there’s also those two idiots—”

He holds her hands away from his face. “Ugh, your hands feel like ice needles!”

“And how are yours warm!? Bastard!”

He laughs making his chest vibrate against hers. “I’m always pipping hot, dear.”

“Blergh!”

Still holding her hands, he nears it to his mouth and blows hot breaths on them, her eyes focused on the plump of his lips, all the while her stomach flutters with snowflake-like butterflies. “And what about you?”

She blinks. “What about me?”

“Your relative’s hearts are breaking like glass, but how’s yours?”

She swallows hard. “You really asking me this? Seriously?”

He holds her hands against his lips, his voice comes as if a whisper. “I wanna know if I still hold possession of your heart.”

She drops her head to his chest. “I don’t wanna give you something you can’t hold… but it’s not like you don’t already have it.”

“Indigo asked patience of me and I’m attending to her request cause I too want what’s best for you. I’m still earning her trust in this regard. You’re too young and I might’ve not given the best examples in the past.”

“Too young my arse! You’re barely two years older.” She scoops up until they’re nose to nose, and the air in Diego’s lungs feels rarer. “I’m no bairn, Diego, I ken I want to be with ye, why isn’t that enough?”

“I love you too much to screw this up with haste.”

She opens up a smile with joy blossoming in her chest. “You… you love me?”

“Why you think I haven’t even looked the way of another girl? I’ll wait for you, the time I have to wait. Because there’ll come a time it won’t be an option to wait, we both know that.”

At the same time the weight of the world left her shoulders, a hot burden grew in her chest — laying as they were, even encapsulated in freezing air and with soaked bottoms, she couldn’t stop her blushing cheeks, the redness spreading to her whole face, speechless, leaving Diego to wonder if she was okay.

But before he could ask, she presses her lips against his and he doesn’t feel like breathing anymore or existing beyond the encounter of their mouths. He takes her scarf in handfuls and opens his mouth for her tongue, mindless about her still freezing hands on his neck. The kiss isn’t sloppy but is desperate, considering how long their wait had been, every second of it had to be made up for in this right moment.

It’s her to pull away first with burning lungs while he fishes for another and another feel of her lips — she still had a lot to learn about kissing with passion and he’d be more than willing to teach her. She stops for a moment to admire the redness her kiss left on his lips and smirks.

“You might be patient, but I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait to do this.”

He runs his thumb over her lips, tracing her skin discolorations. “Who am I to deny you of your wishes?” His stare makes her feel as if she won’t ever be as solid as she is under his eyes. “Aspen, you have me, my kisses and my victories and my dreams and all my love. I’m all yours.”

She gives him another soft kiss. “And I’m no different.”

He smiles. “And I don’t wanna ruin our moment, but I’ll get a frostbite on my buttcheeks if I don’t get up now.”

“Oh, sorry, love.” She releases him and helps him up. She looks around the training grounds, empty unless for the training dummies on the corner white with frost. She chuckles. “Damn, we didn’t duel at all.”

“I’ll make an exception just today, cause I feel like my ass is about to fall off and because I won’t be able to stupefy this pretty face. For today.”

She wraps an arm around his waist as they make their way back inside. “Perhaps I better find myself a new dueling partner…”

He looks down at her with a smile. “Never.”

#flash fic #aspen×diego #aspen samwise #diego caplan #yes she tops guys #this is her as a teen bc as an adult she's out choking him xD #but sexy #hphm diego #ask game

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visionsofus · 3 years

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Hey I just wanted to tell you that your writing is really great. I love reading your fics. You are doing a really great job and I hope you continue and enjoy writing as much as we all enjoy reading. I was wondering if you still take requests because I think that the song Remedy be Adele would maybe fit wanda and vision between cacw and iw really good. Thank you for your time. I'm off now re-reading all you fics. Have a great day :)

hello anon! gosh this has taken me a while, I hope you don't mind :) I really loved your song prompt and I hope you like the direction I have gone with it (though it is more post AoU than post CW sorry :')

Track #25: Remedy by Adele

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request |

Wanda comes back injured from a mission and Vision has to come to terms with her mortality, and the limits of their relationship. Tender touching and the intimacy of tending to wounds.

Ten minutes into his pacing Vision grew worried that he might wear down the carpet. Instead, he rose a foot off the air and took to floating back and forth before the third-floor windows. It was the perfect vantage point to watch the empty drive leading from the gate to the compound’s front door.

Ten minutes quickly lapsed into half an hour, yet he had still heard no update from his teammates since the foreboding message which marked a start to his anxious pacing.

Everything went well. ETA 1 hr – stopping at hospital first.

Vision had sent something back along the lines of – if everything is okay then why the hospital? But was yet to receive a reply. The compound was equipped with a certified med bay extensive enough for most simple injuries, for Steve, Nat, Sam and Wanda to stop at a hospital meant they thought it something beyond their capabilities.

An ounce of the tension in his shoulder dissipated as he watched the front gate slowly open, and the hulking SUV begin down the drive.

Vision reached the driveway below just as the car pulled up beside the front door. From what he could see, the team looked to be in good spirits. There were smiles all round despite the soot across their faces and some general wear and tear.

“Is everything alright?” Vision demanded as Steve reached the door.

“All fine, just a little more fire power than we were expecting.”

“Who was hurt?”

Steve opened his mouth to speak, then glanced over his shoulder. “Wanda.”

Vision started forward but Steve placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Easy,” he said quietly, “don’t smother her, all things considered, it wasn’t too serious.”

Vision held Steve’s gaze a moment longer before shrugging the captain’s hand off and heading for Wanda’s side of the car. She was being helped out by Nat which Vision quickly saw was owing to the white cotton sling tied around Wanda’s neck.

When Natasha had Wanda steady on her feet she let go and left them alone, giving Vision an all too knowing look as she passed. He held his arm out for Wanda to hold as she started towards the front steps, but she ignored it.

“I’m fine.”

“Yes, a hospital trip is absolutely fine.” It was a challenge to keep the sarcasm from his tone.

“Don’t,” Wanda said holding a hand up and Vision wisely stayed a step behind her.

A few moments of silence later and Vision felt he were able to ask her properly. “Are you okay?”

“I am.” There was an earnestness to her voice that he couldn’t help believing. “It was just a bit of a burn and Cap was worried about treating it ourselves, because of scarring and stuff…” Wanda trailed off as she turned away from Vision.

So, it wasn’t quite as bad as he had feared but it scared him nonetheless. These sorts of accidents hadn’t been uncommon in the year since he had joined the Avengers. But the fear, no matter how synthetic, never failed to unnerve him. His teammates readily accepting such risks to their fragile human bodies was even more scary. For Wanda especially, he always worried. Not because she couldn’t handle herself, Vision had seen and experienced her force firsthand. Rather, he dreaded the idea of anything bad happening to her. Vision had first been confronted with her mortality as he’d watched her suspended in mid-air, her city hurtling to the ground. It was an image that had often occupied his thoughts since.

Vision hadn’t noticed the takeout that Sam had retrieved from the back of the car, so he was surprised to see the full meal set out on the table when they arrived upstairs. He frowned with concern noticing just how much slower Wanda’s steps were as she took her seat at the dining table.

Vision sat next to her, taking the glass of water that Sam passed down to him and onto Wanda. Next came a plate loaded with three different kinds of pasta dishes which he set in front of Wanda.

He watched as she stabbed a few pieces of pasta onto her fork, turning purposefully to him and pointedly shovelling it into her mouth. Vision looked away sheepishly, practically hearing her satisfied smile as he did. Don’t smother her, he reminded himself.

He stayed quiet throughout dinner, half listening to the team recounting their mission, only really paying attention when they described Wanda’s injury. He was grateful to hear that the burns weren’t bad, though he noticed Wanda’s barely concealed winces when she bumped her arm against the table every now and then.

After dinner they all migrated to the television, a regular routine when it was just the five of them in the compound. Vision leant against the living room wall, his eyes flickering between the last light of the sunset which was casting the sky in shades of violet, and Wanda, who had settled into the couch for the evening news.

Steve had said that the doctors hadn’t seen the need to prescribe any pain medications for Wanda besides simple aspirin and Vision knew that Wanda had a higher pain tolerance than most. It didn’t mean she should deal with the pain though – so he set about researching the best options for helping with burn pain.

The evening continued on smoothly though Vision’s mind was far from the television that occupied his friends. It was always like this when someone get hurt, everyone acted like it was normal even as they all harboured secret concerns – he saw how everyone’s eyes followed Wanda as she moved to the kitchen for tea.

“You don’t need to hover, Vis,” Wanda said, not looking over her shoulder but having heard him follow her.

“I—” he meant to say he wasn’t hovering, but that would be something of a lie. Wanda smiled and raised her eyebrows as he leant against the kitchen island, the kettle boiling noisily about them. “I’m sorry, I was just worried.”

“It’s alright, thank you for worrying about me,” Wanda said pouring the water, keeping her sling carefully out of the way, “but I promise, I am fine.”

He didn’t reply, following her back to the living room and allowing himself to sit when she indicated he should join her on the couch.

Vision was pulled from his mind, and the rabbit hole he had fallen down regarding burn rehabilitation, when Wanda yawned and stretched gracefully beside him.

“I’m off to bed,” she said to the others, getting to her feet and waving good night to them over her shoulder. There were noncommittal murmurs of ‘goodnight’ in return from Steve and Sam, Natasha had since gone to bed herself. Today’s mission had worn them all out more than usual.

Vision shifted in his seat, fingers tapping nervously against his knee. He lasted a minute and a half before getting to his feet and following Wanda off down the corridor. Her bedroom door was closed. They had something of an open-door policy at the compound – if your bedroom door was open, you were open to company, if not – well…

He resumed his pacing from that afternoon, walking up and down the corridor outside Wanda’s room and weighing up his options. He could risk irritating her further by knocking on the door to see if she wanted company, or he could trust that she was okay as she claimed and go to his own room.

He had just resolved to return to his own quarters when she called his name from behind the shut door. Without hesitating, Vision phased through the wall, arriving swiftly in her bedroom, a space he was more familiar with than his own room.

What he saw before him had heat crawling up his neck and sent him spinning around. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry I thought you said my name—”

He tried to rid the image that was currently burned into his mind, even as his heart beat wildly in his ears.

“No, I did call you,” Wanda said, he heard the sound of her struggling, “I need help.”

When Vision didn’t make to move from where he was, Wanda spoke again. “Vision you can look, it’s not that big a deal.”

Vision swallowed, turning around but keeping his eyes on the floor, nonetheless. When he finally looked up, he was able to confirm what he had seen upon entering her room. Wanda was – well she was stuck. Her slinged arm was raised above her head, caught on the edge of her top as she had seemingly tried to struggle out of her clothes.

“I think,” Vision said, speaking quietly, “that you’re supposed to undo the sling before you change.”

“Yes, well,” Wanda huffed, “I only have two hands and one of them I can’t use.”

Vision glanced up to her face, refusing to acknowledge her mostly bare torso, the slope of her back, her waist, her chest.

“A little help, please?”

“Oh – of course!” Vision said starting forward, unsure where to begin. Wanda watched him approach and turned, nodding her head to the knot tied at the back of her neck.

Delicately, Vision untied the knot, letting her injured arm free of its sling, his eyes firmly focused on not looking below her shoulders. Wanda turned around to him and he held his hands out to help lift the top off, waiting for her invitation before he touched her.

“Go on,” she raised her arms to the best of her ability, the top hiking higher up her ribs as she did.

Vision pulled her top over her bandaged upper arm, freeing it from the thin material before doing the same on the other arm. With the utmost care, and desperately trying not to think about the tense quiet between them, Vision laid his hands on the hem of the top, pulling it up and over her head. He let the top fall onto the bed, unable to keep his eyes away from her as she shook her hair out of her face.

Vision started and quickly turned around again, the intimacy sending his eyes back to a spot on the wall which he bore into intently. He listened to the rustling of fabric as Wanda pulled a sweater over her head. When she was done, she tapped his shoulder, her other hand extending the sling for him to support her arm with again.

Vision leant in, looping the fabric around her shoulder, taking care to not jostle her wounded arm.

“Do you not fear getting hurt?” He asked hesitantly, his chin brushing against her forehead as he finished the loose knot.

“Of course I do,” Wanda murmured back, her eyes closed contently as Vision pulled back a little and set about readjusting the fabric to make it more comfortable.

“How do you manage it?” Vision asked. “The fear.”

“I don’t.” Wanda’s reply was a harsh confession that had Vision’s own heart clenching empathetically.

He finished with the sling, gently brushing her hair over her shoulder. “How do I manage it?” He hadn’t really meant to speak it aloud, but it was an honest question. He wasn’t sure how long Wanda would still want to be around him if he hovered like this every time she got the smallest injury. Vision would do anything not to jeopardise their current relationship, this thing that was something and wasn’t at the same time. Anything to reinforce the line between friendship and whatever was on the other side that they both seemed intent on keeping to.

“We manage it together,” Wanda said softly, shrugging with her good shoulder. “We take it one day at a time, one accident at a time and we help each other.”

Vision smiled at her, reaching out to cradle her hand gently. “I suppose we can manage that.”

#wanda vision #wanda x vision #scarletvision #soft fics #visionsofusfics #post AoU #wanda maximoff #the vision #domestic shit #tending to each others wounds

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