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goldenissues · 3 years

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bad girl-georgenotfound x reader

summary- you’re a role model student, but recently, you’ve been misbehaving. teacher! george takes things into his own hands and puts you in his place

warnings/notes- smut, swearing, violence?, female receiving, insults

high achiever. that’s what you were. with your kind smiles as you pass by, your top grades, and anything anyone could wish for. you were pretty much always presentable, pretty much always on time, pretty much organised and pretty much pretty. and on the rare days when you were late or forgot a piece of homework, nobody would batt an eye, you were too reliable to worry.

however, it might’ve been this week when people found a notable change in your behaviour. perhaps it was the scowl plastered on your face, the bumping into people- which was very much on purpose- or the changes in things that came out of your mouth.

though, you still did what you did before, it felt threatening to people. you still gave your smiles (even though they made people uneasy when you did now), and you looked presentable, that hasn’t changed.

“y/n, you’re late,” you heard a stern voice behind you as you crept into class. rolling your eyes, you turned to face the taller male-mr.notfound. “good morning sir, how are you? great! right now i’ve got to-“ a smile laid on your face as you sarcastically greeted the older.

“y/n” he sighed, running a veiny hand through his fluffy hair, making the not already perfect strands of hair even messier, “you were a perfect student before; high grades, modal behaviour, neat organisation. what happened?”

you fought the urge to roll your eyes, instead giving him a bigger smile. you hated hearing those words, it’s always ‘what happened?’, “nothings happened, sir. i’m not sure what you’re taking about,”

his tongue poked the inside of his cheek, hesitant to speak for a minute or two before replying with a simple, “whatever y/n, get to your seat, copy what’s in the board,”

you strutted out of class, on your way to the lunch queue when you got called midway from a familiar voice. “y/n,” you stopped in your tracks and huffed as you looked to the direction of the voice- mr. notfound. looking up with innocent eyes, “yes sir? is there something bothering you?” he gave a disappointed sigh, punching the bridge of his nose, “you know what’s wrong. it’s a shame, you’re well behaved in everything, yet you can’t make sure your skirt isn’t so high,”

you crossed your arms, leaning all your weight onto one hip as you gave him the most annoyed look you could muster, “i don’t see why it bothers you so much, sir,” he raised a brow. you’ve never had a good view of mr. not found, especially because of the communication between you and him.

“unroll your skirt,” you glared at him, clearly annoyed at the interaction. still glaring at him, you rolled it up once higher. watching as his breath slightly hitched in his throat, he made eye contact with you again, his eyes holding an emotions you couldn’t quite uncover. “i’ve told you once and i’ll tell you again, unroll your skirt,” you brought a finger to your chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “hm.. no”

“you’re such a bad girl..” mr. notfound muttered, continuing to look you up and down, it sent butterflies to your stomach. however you quickly got back into the right mind, ‘he’s your teacher y/n’, you thought.

“if i see you later with your skirt still so high, it’s going to be a punishment,” you huffed and carried on walking down the corridor, giving him no response.

perhaps you had simply forgot what he said. oh honestly, did it really matter that much? it was only a skirt length, it wasn’t your fault if people found it distracting, i mean it’s not your fault your so attractive. hah.

gliding your finger along the lockers as you headed to the changing rooms. bag trailing across the floor by the way you lazily wrapped your fingers around the strap. you were late to cheerleading again. wow, well done y/n, gold star! eh, you couldn’t care less. as you carelessly strutted down the corridor you unknowingly muttered about how senseless mr. notfound was, “i mean it’s not my fault i’m so hot-“

“tsk tsk, y/n l/n, what a bad little girl,” you stopped in your tracks from pure startles, shooting your head up to the voice, mr. notfound. no matter the effort you made to cover it, mr. notfound truly did frighten you, and the same could go for mr. wastaken. perhaps it was that they made you feel so small and intimidated that you tried to switch it, protesting to their orders.

“what are you doing here so late,” he asked, leaning against the wall with the poster that read “believe in yourself’. you swallowed your nerves in your throat you didn’t even know were there, “i was heading to cheer sir,”

the brunette looked you up and down, staring at your skirt and legs, before looking up to you with a disappointed sigh, “i see you haven’t fixed your skirt, what do you think mr. wastaken will think about this,”

you gulped, internally panicking and unsure of how to reply, “i’m not sure what you’re taking about sir,” you batted innocent eyes, smiling politely up at him. tutting, he leant back of the wall, rubbing his temple in irritation, “you’re so disobedient. i’m afraid you won’t be attending cheer today,”

suddenly, you furrowed your brows, “what? huh?” he grinned and walked closer towards you, close enough to hear his breathing, “you’ve got a detention,” his husky voice spoke into your ear. god his voice made your face as red as a cherry.

“why?” there wasn’t really a point in asking why, you had been gone downhill for the last few weeks: not following orders, turning up late to lessons, being rude and sarcastic. “come on,” mr. not found started walking down the hall, you following close behind.

you were angry, you didn’t like school, but the only things keeping you going was cheerleading, no matter the times that you pretend to hate it. school is shit, you hate it and everything about it: the rules, the students, the lessons, the food, the teachers -well, mr. notfound and mr.wastaken certainly didn’t bat your eye.

yeah you hated them, how they were constantly telling you off, but god they were hot. sometimes you so desperately want them to bend you over their desks and fuck you till you can’t remember your own name.

anyways, you were in a bad mood, you had been looking forward to cheer (even though you were running late) and mr. notfound had to ruin it. huffing and puffing, you glared at any walking students. one girl walked past, looking so fucking happy, and you decided this was the right time to ruin her mood just like yours has been ruined. stopping in your tracks as she stopped at her locker, you yelled at her, “that skirt is so fucking ugly makes me want to puke, are you thick in the head or what?”

“y/n.” the man called sternly, giving you a look to stop. well, that look turned to annoyance once you flipped him off. taking a step closer to the girl who already looked upset, “aw, you gonna cry?” you sarcastically asked, giving a fake look of aw, “pathetic little bitch,”

“y/n, stop it. come over-“ “shut the fuck up sir, i’m not going to your stupid little detention,” turning to glare at him, gritting your teeth, only to earn a look of amusement. “oh so you find this funny? bitch,”

mr.notfound gave you a long, hard stare -intimidatingly long, before striding beside the girl and bending down slightly to her eye level. you watched with a weird feeling coursing through you as him and the girl talked about something, the girls face turning red as a tomato. it wasn’t a surprise really- almost every girl in this school had a crush on him, and well, you couldn’t say anything bad as you were one of those girls.

it wasn’t your fault when you swung at her after she gave you a cocky smirk. she grabbed her cheek, gasping dramatically, before forcing tears out of her eyes. “you little bitch!” you screamed, hitting her again. you didn’t stop trying after sir picked you up with force and pulled you away further down the corridors.

as he frustratedly headed to his office, you couldn’t help but think about how it felt being carried by him. yeah you had done something bad, but god this felt good.

“why can’t you just behave?” he muttered through gritted teeth. you didn’t answer, didn’t think it was your time to talk, didn’t think it was the right moment to give him a bitchy answer. “you were such a good girl before, now you’re punching people as they walk by,”

“i’m sorry sir,” you replied as he sat you down on his desk, walking over to his cupboard. you really were sorry, you didn’t know what had gotten into you recently. though you were sorry, you didn’t regret anything.

as you watched sir rummage through his cupboard, eyebrows furrowed, a trickling down your lower face had become incredibly noticeable. brushing your hand over your nose, you were met with blood -fuck, a nose bleed. it was probably when the girl swung back, but you didn’t notice it. mr. notfound walked over to you with a box of tissues in his hand. leaning in, he grabbed your chin and held tightly as he brushed the soft tissues over the blood. something about this sent a flutter between your legs; perhaps it was his concentrated face mixed with anger, or maybe it was the way he handled you, the way he touched you.

“you’ve been naughty,” he breathed out. breath so close to my neck that it sent butterflies to my stomach, “gonna have to punish you,” the look on his face told you he wasn’t kidding, and the way he didn’t move away from you to put the tissues in the bin, just throwing them into it from where he was.

silence is what surrounded the room, your faces inches away from each other, hungry looks on both. the only thing that broke the silence through time was the breathing that became heavier. and as he smashed his lips onto yours, you kissed back. it was hot, needy, it felt perfect. the messy movement of his lips on yours left you whining in his mouth.

“fuck, you don’t realise what you do to me,” he pulled away slightly, still practically sharing breath. you felt his hand land on your thigh, before feeling him rub it in a circular motion with his thumb. he kissed you again, open mouth, if it was anyone but him you would’ve been grossed out, but god he made this so hot.

you couldn’t imagine what someone would think if they walked in whilst you were messily making out, his hand on your chin grasping tightly with the other massaging the skin on your thigh. he pulled away again, kissing at your face, “the way you prance around in this tiny skirt, you make me so horny, i bet you make everyone else feel like this as well,”

you shook your head, “no sir, only for you, all for you,” as he kissed and sucked at your neck, you felt his smirk plastered on his face against your skin.

you moaned as he sucked at a certain piece of skin, “can’t keep quiet, want everyone to hear how much of a slut you are?” you wasn’t sure how to respond, if you were to say no you would be lying. you wanted people to hear how you were making out with your teacher, you wanted to make the girls jealous. so, all you could do was timidly look away from his gaze.

you gasped as you felt a strong hand grab your black tie and yank it towards him, snapping you to look in his eyes, “look at me when i’m talking to you,” george gravely quipped, glaring at you.

out of nowhere, you felt the sudden urge to be a brat again, not the smartest idea but it would be interesting, “i don’t want to look at you,” you snarked back, watching as his eye brows furrowed and his tongue poked the inside of his cheek. hand still tight on your tie, forcing you to painfully look up from the height and the difference of you sitting and him standing over you. “stand up.” he demanded

“no.” suddenly, you felt a harsh slap to your cheek, before your face was pulled up to be inches away from his,

“fucking stand up brat,” his tone was deep and husky, it awoken something inside you. but, being the stubborn person you are, you shook your head. he yanked you up by your waist, then slammed you against the nearest wall.

his warmth engulfed you as he so quickly slammed his lips back onto yours, spreading through you like an infectious disease, however, this disease would be one you want to never leave. he pulled you closer to him from your waist, leaning burning fingerprints every inch his hands touched.

this kiss was not much different from the ones just before, but for some strange reason, this one felt more forceful, daring, one that got you more worked up. as he attached his lips to your neck, quickly exploring more and more of your body, you were well aware you were not leaving that room without bruises. despite being as aware of it as can be, you couldn’t help but want to carry on being bratty.

and as the buttons to your shirt came undone annoyingly slow, you became more and more impatient. “hurry up, if you can’t teach well atleast be able to make me feel good,”

he pulled away, still close enough you could feel every exhale, so close you watched his jaw clench and face so desperately trying not to show just how angry he was right now. it was peculiar that you still persisted to stay bitchy, there really was no need for you to act like this, and you both were fully aware, but you wanted to rile him up, wanted him to know you don’t give up easily, wanted him to earn this from you. in hindsight, that was probably it the brightest idea and you you became aware of that the longer he started into your eyes.

“oh i’ll make you feel good,” he muttered through gritted teeth, “and you’ll fucking like it, so don’t tell me to hurry up,”

with that, he pulled your shirt off, hands immediately going to your back, desperately fiddling with the clasp off your bra as you innocently looked up at him, acting like you weren’t just pissing him off, “your so fucking annoying,” he murmured, the clasp loosening as he pulled the fabric down your arms, leaning you bare chested.

“your acting like i don’t turn you on just by walking around school sir,” you retorted, as he rolled one of your nipples through his long fingers, smiling sweetly whilst he scoffed, however mesmerised by how beautiful you looked.

“remember what you’re saying whilst you’re begging to cum and i say no,” he whispered into your ear, before moving his mouth to circle his tongue around your other nipple, and both of you noticed the goosebumps that covered your skin in that few seconds.

right as you were about spit another retort, syllables falling down your throat and being replaced with a choked moan as you felt his hands sneak their way under your short skirt that pretty much started this whole thing.

gripping your thighs, taking in exactly how the skin felt with his hands over them. you felt your heart almost beat out of your stomach as you felt a hand get closer to your leaking heat, barely covered by your damp panties. “and with how your acting your probably not wet right now. isnt that right?”

and you couldn’t mange to say a word as you felt his middle finger run over your panties, barely ghosting your clit, leaving you wanting more contact. his pointer finger caught onto the side of the fabric, pushing it aside, leaving just enough space for his middle finger to feel the juices that so guilty poured out of you. his touch felt so cold compared to your heat, leaving you so embarrassed as he coats his finger in you before slowly pulling away, catching your eyes with a smug smirk whilst doing so.

“oh? oops,” he chuckled, “looks like i was wrong,”

without a second to respond, his fingers shoved themselves inside you, leaving you whimpering from sudden pleasure. you almost collapsed if it wasn’t for him holding your waist with one hand as he roughly pumped them in and out of you, leaving lewd noises to spill out of your lips. drops of wetness spill down your thighs, he still persistently works his magic through your wet underwear, thumb sneaking to rub tight circles on your clit. and you couldn’t stop yourself as a moan left your red lips, music to his ears, and his smug smile grew bigger. you can’t help letting out noises when he made you feel this good, but of course, you couldn’t let him know that, couldn’t let him know that he made you feel heavenly. everytime he pumped his fingers, everytime they subtly brushed over your clit, it left you twitching.

s-sir, sir fuck! please i’m-!” you couldn’t even finish your sentence before his fingers ripped out of you, the pleasure disappearing into thin air, taken from you. as you stare at him, your hands having a mind of their own, moving down to your heat out of instinct, but being grabbed and pinned above your head before you could reward yourself with pleasure.

“don’t you fucking dare. what happened to the brattiness? you come when i give you permission,” both of you are well aware that you’re brattiness has been taken away from you when you don’t reply, just look into his eyes and nod, swallowing your nerves. and that’s when his smirk grew bigger, he loves this.

you watch as he unbuttons his dress shirt, throwing it pulls and he pulls his trousers and boxers down, exposing his throbbing, sizeable cock that sent a pit to your stomach. his eyes catch sight of you as your practically drooling over him, and he does nothing but smirk as your eyes meet.

“get on a desk, all fours, unless you don’t want to be pleasured,” and you comply, pulling your panties and skirt down leaving you in nothing but a tie and thigh highs, climbing onto a desk, legs trembling. you watch as he unbuttons his dress shirt, throwing it off and he pulls his trousers and boxers down, exposing his throbbing, sizeable cock that sent a pit to your stomach. his eyes catch sight of you as your practically drooling over him, and he does nothing but smirk as your eyes meet.

he moved behind you, “i won’t be gentle,”

SORRY I DIDNT FINISH IT. i started writing this months ago but now i’ve kinda left the fandom and i’m never gonna finish this so here it is. you can imagine the rest.

new obsession: it (novel and book) ✅

new person to obsess over: jaeden martell 😍😍

i’m probably gonna post it oneshots and maybe stranger things fluff.

#georgenotfound smut #georgenotfound #dreamwastaken #dream smut #sapnap #minecraft #streaming #youtube #smut #mcyters #mcyt smut

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yandere-for-you · 3 years

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You live a normal live after escaping your captor, only for it to all fall apart.

This is old and I finally thought I’d finish it and post it...enjoy 😌

——-————————

The sound of the knife hitting the the cutting board filled the air as you chopped up the vegetables for dinner, the rhythmic noise pulling you into deep thought,

"Mama.."

A tugging at your jeans pulling you out of those dark thoughts. Looking down you saw your son, Sōta, hugging his plush bird to his chest, "You're doing it again.", turning back, you saw that the knife was very close to cutting your knuckles.

You smiled nervously, "Ah...Sorry, baby bird.", crouching down, you ran your hands through his hair then squished his cheeks causing him to make a happy chirp noise.

"Did you know my birthday is in a week?"

You playfully hummed, "Oooh really?" He nodded, "Well, what kind of cake do you want this year, sweetie?"

"Mmm.. Melon cake!"

You laughed, "But you had that last year!"

"I know, I like it!"

"Alright, melon cake it is.", pressing a kiss to his forehead, you stood end up, "Go on and wash your hands dinner is almost ready.", he ran off, giggling.

You signed, watching him go then going back to to chopping the carrots for the beef stew, "Six years already, huh?", you thought back to how you had escaped, it was planned so very carefully and you had been able to get in contacted with family here in countryside which help even more, letting you stay at their home but you didn't tell them the name of the man you were running from and they respected that.

Moving from such a big, busy city to the calm, quiet countryside was definitely a shock; yeah, you have family here but you hadn't visited them in a long time. It was okay for a while, they didn't have a lot of space so you shared a room with your female cousin, who was the same age and was visiting from college. They all were a big help when you found out you were pregnant. You didn't take it well at first, crying and freaking out but your amazing cousin had dragged you to a doctor. Finding out you were two or so months along was shocking, where was the morning sicken? The mood swings?

The doctor you had seen was a wonderful woman and understood that you didn't want to go into detail about everything. She sat you down, talking to you about how you had options and if you wanted to you could terminate it but would give you a few days to think it over. At home, you sat at the computer, looking up random things, just to get your mind off of everything but soon found yourself looking at baby things. You've always wanted kids but you thought you would be married with a good job by then but you guess life likes to kick you in the butt. Your family said whatever you did they would support you, in the end you decided to keep the baby and didn't regret it.

When you had first held Sōta after he was born, you had cried happily. He was a screaming, red little potato but he was your little potato, with wings stubs! Soon you found out, as he grew older, he's eyes turned from those soft brown to gold and he developed the same markings around his eyes.

Hell , the only thing you shared with your son was your hair color!

Sōta and you had spent time gardening, exploring more of the tiny town and forest. You got along with many people here, including a lot of mothers, so your son had some friends to grow up with. One of the mothers' lived a little ways down from you, with her 3 sons and her husband, she's such a kind woman and you bonded over a lot of things, your love of gardening was one.

"Goodnight, Baby Bird.", you laid your son down in his nest/bed after getting him ready for bed then tucked him in, nice and tight.

"Night, Mama.", he snuggled in his pillows and plushies, yawning. Placing a kiss on his forehead, you walked to his bedroom door then turned back towards him, smiling softly.

"I love you, Sōta."

"Love you, too.", he muttered, dozing off. You cut off the lights then shut the door, till only a sliver of light from the hallway shined through. Walking into the kitchen, you poured yourself a cup of tea then made your way into the living room, where the space heater was running and the tv was playing one of your favorite shows. You sat down on a pillow and placed your cup on the table as you picked back up your crocheting.

As you got into a meditative rhythm, you couldn't help but look up, sharing through the glass shoji, and into the beautiful autumn land outside. You still really couldn't believe it, free from you tormentor for six years. Losing yourself in the beautiful outside, you were only pulled out of it whe you heard a very, quiet crack noise. When you looked down, you couldn't help but flinch, dread running down your spine when you saw a large crack in your tea cup. As you were staring at it, the door bell rang, you snapped your head in the direction of the entrance, panic settling into your body as you realized no one would be by your house at this time of night.

You wanted to throw up as soon as you heard a voice you hadn't heard in six years...

" Hey, Dove, I miss you. Mind opening the door?”

#Yandere #yandere hawks #yandere bnha #gender netural reader #reader insert #hawksbnha

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a-libra-writes · 3 years

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Belonging - Stannis Baratheon x Wife!Reader

this is 1000% self indulgent and gift to myself after having an awful time LMAO please enjoy. i love this man so much. excuse the terrible title yall know i think of them absolutely last

Summary: Takes place around the time Robert was crowned, when Stannis and the Reader are married for less than a year. Robert’s drunkenness results in some jealousy and misunderstandings (and making up).

There was one thing she had to admit about the Southerners, at least the ones in King’s Landing: They could certainly throw a party.

Lady Y/N couldn’t count how many she’d been to in the past year, or even the past month. It was just another pastime in King’s Landing, as natural to the highborns as drinking wine and wearing silk. If there was no pressing matter for him to attend to, and if he was bored, King Robert would have a feast.

Hells, he’d throw one even if the city gates were on fire, goblet in one hand and his axe in another. And as an honored sister-in-law, Y/N was invited to every gathering. Naturally the invitation was extended to Stannis, but no one expected her husband to actually attend. When they first married he’d gone for her sake, and for the sake of appearances, but that was no longer needed after nearly a year of being together.

Y/N had mixed feelings about that. She didn’t want Stannis to be miserable and on edge the whole evening, because he would be, but she was willing to admit she missed him. Sitting on the dais in her honored seat, it wouldn’t matter who sat at her left, because her attention would be on Stannis, who always sat to her right. At first it was her expected wifely duty to attend with him. To ensure they both looked as a pair, their houses united for the sake of the king… even if the king and his queen were constantly squabbling. That made Y/N and her husband’s united front even more important.

Stannis didn’t like to shout at her above the feast-goers, so he’d lean in, and she’d do the same until their shoulders pressed together. That small contact used to make him tense, but eventually he relaxed into it, just like they both relaxed into the conversation that would pass. Who was drinking too much, who was attending for the first time in years, when the madness would be over and they could go back to their quarters. Talking to Stannis became easy, and eventually they’d just pick up whatever conversation was left off before the feast. It would be nearly midnight, with revelers laughing and dancing and passing out all around them, and Stannis and Y/N would still be talking back and forth on the dais.

They didn’t just do that, though. She could coax him into a dance, taking his thin hand in her’s and pulling him to his feet. During their firsts feasts together, it was all show. Look at the newlyweds: the humorless brother of the king and his wild Northern bride. They were an act, a sideshow, and Y/N was determined to quiet the snickers and smirks. Stannis tolerated two dances, and he was stiff as a board the entire time, but Y/N was graceful. She could smile and silently guide him through, and soon, they blended in with the rest of the crowd. People stopped gawking when it became clear he wouldn’t stumble and she knew the Southern songs.

He still hated it, but when he saw her looking longingly at dancing pairs, Stannis would stare at her hand before carefully moving his fingers over her’s. Y/N’s excited eyes would meet his, and he’d reflexively squeeze her hand, pleased he could bring that light to her face. He would still only do the minimum amount of dances, but now they moved together, and they stood closer. He didn’t need her guidance to know where his feet should go next. And if the crowd was thinning out and paying more attention to their drinks than the music, he could hear her witty remarks about the guests and give his own.

They left early compared to the other revelers, and especially compared to the king. There would still be laughter and voices echoing off the halls as they disappeared into the vastness of the Red Keep. Y/N would take off her shoes and hold onto his arm, her mind spinning from sleepiness and drink, and Stannis would guide her back to their quarters, which always seemed too far away. Often he’d hold her shoes, once he carried her.

Y/N frowned as she recalled all this. There wouldn’t be any of that tonight - she couldn’t talk to Stannis, or dance with him, or lean on his broad shoulders on the way back. Yes, she had her little friends and acquaintances, but that wasn’t the same. She was startled by how much her heart tugged at her, like it wanted to pull her out of her seat and lead her toward the person she was missing.

My friends wanted me to attend, and I made all this effort on my gown and hair. I ought to stay at least another hour. Y/N had been looking forward to the food and music, but as the minutes passed, all the voices and the stuffiness of the hall began to irk her. She’d been to these parties alone before and hadn’t felt this pitiful. I need to get ahold of myself and have some fun, damn it.

At least King Robert and Queen Cersei had long left the dais, off to do their mingling separately. They stayed apart as much as possible, Y/N observed. She slipped off the dais herself, determined to find someone she knew and get herself a dance. She carefully lifted her black gown, letting the back trail gracefully as she crossed into the crowd. It was one of Y/N’s favorite gowns, a beautifully slimming dress made of chiffon that hugged at her waist. The skirt was long and luxurious, fluttering behind her as she made the smallest movements. In the light, the gold thread that was woven through the black fabric shimmered and gave the effect of her body sparkling.

Y/N only needed modest jewelry and a simple belt of black diamonds and gold to accessorize it; she felt her body and the gown were statement enough. When she walked, she allowed herself to indulge in the power her status brought. Being the sister-in-law of a King, few could approach her directly. She could refuse dances, refuse conversation. Lords could leer, but they couldn’t hope to have her direct attention, and they had to keep a respectful distance. It was a far cry from the feasts from when Y/N was a girl freshly flowered, and her father wouldn’t stop parading her around eligible men, like a slab of fresh lamb on a platter. Those humiliating days were over.

She raised her chin and exuded the confidence she felt. An older woman passed her, then stopped and looked twice. Her eyes brightened with shameless delight. “Lady Y/N! What an honor! Please, would you grace my family with a few words? My daughter would so love to speak to you.”

Y/N’s stomach flipped, but her face remained steady. She faintly recalled this woman and her house - an old Kingslander family - but she didn’t need to remember names. She just had to say, “Lead the way, my lady,” And the woman practically giggled as she did so.

From there she was bounced from family to family, dancing here and socializing there. Y/N was good with her words, and a few times she ran into a friend that gave her an escape when the conversation became too much. When that gnawing loneliness would bite at her, Y/N would quickly move to another dance partner. It was funny to feel so lonely in the middle of a feast, but here she was, glancing longingly at the open doorways as if he’d actually walk through them.

Once her feet started aching, Y/N felt the need to call it a night. That gnawing in her chest had turned into a bruise that someone wouldn’t stop touching. The pinching shoes were just making it worse. She sat down on a bench to lift her skirt slightly and look at the damage - no blisters yet, but that could change. Y/N glanced around, wondering what time it was. Her first thought was: Is he still awake?

She could just picture Stannis hunched over his desk, muttering irritably over a collection of papers. Or maybe she’d catch him in a calmer mood, reading a book by the hearth or getting ready for bed.

I need to control myself. I doubt he thinks of me as much.

That wasn’t a pleasant thought, so she set it aside. Y/N stood, wincing as the pain shot from her feet to her calves. She’d throw the shoes out as soon as she was back.

Y/N passed a boisterous circle of people on her way to the door, and she knew who caused it. King Robert was sitting on top of a table, loudly singing war songs with the old lords and their sons who had fought for him. Y/N glanced back a moment, watching them with amusement. The King was completely drunk, there was no question of that, but he was full of mirth and life. His blue eyes sparkled as he tipped his drink to a lord that hit a high note, then someone made a jap and everyone laughed again.

He reminded her of one of her brothers, one who was always laughing and didn’t take anything seriously. Y/N understood why men followed the king into battle, and why they liked him now. She understood why others misliked him. Personally, she was unsure if laughter, drink and song were the right recipe for a king.

When she turned away and nearly stepped over the threshold into the dark hall, she heard him. It was impossible not to hear that booming voice. “Y/N! Where are you going, sister? Have you always been here?”

Oh, hells. Y/N turned around and put a smile on her face. It’s not that she had no particular bad feelings toward Robert, he was just so much, and she was tired. He reeked of wine when he approached her, as expected, just as she expected his wild black hair and more practical clothes. Even when he was full of wine, his strength and height were imposing compared to Y/N. She understood how he could kill Rhaegar Targaryen.

“You seem to be having a lovely night, your grace,” Y/N said, planning words for escape. “Everyone is enjoying the feast as much as you are, that is plain to see. It’s all a bit too much for me.”

The smile he returned was also expected. Drunk men were not difficult to flatter. “Glad you made it, Y/N. You know Stannis never wants to bother. Surprised he didn’t keep you from it.”

“Well, he doesn’t dictate what I can or can’t do.”

To Y/N’s confusion, Robert found the comment hilarious and almost spilled his wine as he laughed. “Damned right. My brother always thinks he has the right to order others around.”

She flushed in embarrassment. Y/N hadn’t meant it like that. Rather, she and Stannis were independent. He wasn’t controlling like some husbands could be, and treated her like her own person, besides. Robert drained the last of his wine and tossed the goblet carelessly. It hit a table and rolled off the side.

“We should dance, Y/N. There’s damn good musicians tonight.”

“... If you wish, your grace. I could manage one.”

Damn it all. It was just the thing she wanted to avoid. Y/N hoped he wouldn’t rope her into half a dozen dances; ideally, he’d get bored or nauseous after a while... Or better, a busty serving girl would pass and his attention would be completely taken away.

“You ought to call me Robert!” He insisted as they settled into position. Robert towered over Y/N even more, but he held her loosely in his large hands. “All these damned titles. I think some men already forgot my name.”

“It’s a matter of respect - and they could never forget their king.” Y/N said, but he probably wasn’t listening. Several nobles and courtiers were watching them, and it made her embarrassment all the worse. She tried to keep up with his long steps, and Robert held her closer as he avoided a stumble. She prayed they were all too drunk to remember this, or notice who she was.

At least he was able to avoid crashing into other dancing pairs. The King looked down at Y/N with a puzzled expression. “Where is Stannis, anyway?”

Where do you think he is? Y/N thought, but said, “Attending to his work, I presume.”

“What work? What in the seven hells could he be doing, leaving you here?”

“I’m attending on my own, your grace.” Y/N said patiently. “I’ve hardly been ‘left’. Stannis prefers quiet to crowds, as you know.”

“Don’t I know it. He’s always been strange.” Robert grunted. He was lost in thought for a moment, or perhaps he had a spot of dizziness from the drink. Again, he looked down at her, but Y/N was perplexed by what he could find interesting. She wished the song was over already. This silence was uncomfortable.

Suddenly, Robert said with a laugh, “Imagine, if Stannis got stuck with that lioness instead. Her curse of a father would never allow it, but - ha! I’d like to see who’d win. Can’t sharpen her claws on stone.”

Y/N had no idea how to respond to that. Was he referring to Stannis marrying Cersei? What did that have to do with anything? “Your grace, I …”

“Would’ve been better if it was you and me, hm?”

Robert’s large hand slipped dangerously low on her waist, and the way he so casually slid his fingers down her side made Y/N’s blood turn to ice. He held her closer still, grinning like there was some secret between the two of them. The iciness spread to her gut and squeezed it hard.

Y/N hastily glanced around, wondering if anyone noticed - for a fleeting second, if anyone would save her. Her heels squeezed her feet as they danced, the aching returning with a vengeance. Robert had her in an iron grip, and he kept stroking her hip.

“He isn’t any good, I bet,” Robert mumbled, the drink beginning to affect him now. They swayed a little, and he leaned down, pressing his cheek against the top of her head. “Bet he doesn’t know what to do with a pretty thing like you.”

Y/N gritted her teeth. “Your grace. The song is over.”

It wasn’t, but she tried to pull away. Robert blinked, swaying with her sudden movement. He righted the two of them. “There’s still plenty of night left, Y/N. I’ll get us a better drink, this Dornish swill doesn’t sit with me.”

Let go! Her head screamed. The discomfort and sickness in her stomach reached a peak, and she all put pushed at his muscular body. Y/N stumbled back, her heels pinching her hard. “E-Excuse me, your grace,” She hurried through an excuse without looking at him. “I feel ill. I should rest.”

She didn’t bother to listen to Rober’s response. Y/N turned on her heel and skittered away, not caring about the looks she received as she darted through the crowd to the hallway. Away from the feast, the Keep’s red stone halls were cold and soothing. She picked a doorway and took herself as far as her biting heels would allow. It wasn’t until she reached a dead end that Y/N took in a deep breath of air and slid down to her knees. She heard seams pop in her dress from the swift movement.

She took in another breath, slowly released it, then took in another. The ice in her veins had turned to bile in her stomach. She oriented herself and staggered her way to the private apartments meant for the family of the king.

The door opened suddenly. The only evidence of Stannis’ surprise was how sharply his eyes glanced up. He was in the same place she left him, doing the same thing - sifting through a storm of paperwork on a desk. She hurried to the bedchambers.

She flopped on the bed, feeling her hairnet coming loose and hearing several more seams popping. The dress was too damned tight. She sucked in a breath and began unlacing it, grateful a handmaiden didn’t wait up for her. They were kind, but they hovered, and she didn’t want to be around anyone right now. Y/N’s head began to pound, and she tried to concentrate on undoing the dress without tearing any more of it.

There was a knock at the door, and she flinched, then sighed. Of course he’d knock. “Come in.”

Stannis never seemed entirely comfortable coming in when she dressed, even if it was his bedroom too. He averted his eyes as Y/N worked her dress off. “You’ve returned early.”

Y/N cleared her voice to make sure it was steady, and blinked her eyes a few times to keep the stinging at bay. “Is it early? I was already so tired.”

They had silence before, but this felt oppressing. Y/N tried to ignore it. She gave up on removing the dress; her braids and hairpins were a chore to remove, so they’d be a welcome distraction. Maybe he’d go back to his work, and she could go to bed and just pretend this night didn’t --

In a few steps, Stannis crossed the room and knelt before her. Y/N’s hair fell to her shoulders as she pulled the last pin, but her hand stayed suspended as she looked at him questioningly. Even in the candlelight, she saw a blush tinging his cheeks. He avoided her gaze and unlaced her heels, carefully holding her ankle as he pulled them off.

Carefully. Gently. She was instantly reminded of harsh hands gripping her, and the feeling of ice running up her limbs returned. Before Y/N could say anything, Stannis quickly stood and put her shoes away.

Y/N curled her legs up to her chest and tucked her feet under her skirts. “Thank you.”

“You have blisters.” Stannis said. “Should I get an ointment?”

“No,” Y/N murmured. She peeked at her toes and saw how red they were. She could feel the throbbing on her heels and ankles, too.

“You should have them made anew, or just toss them. This happened before.”

“Did it?” Y/N tried to remember the last time she wore the shoes. She faintly recalled that’s when Stannis carried her up the stairs to their apartment. Did she really wear these shoes back then? Maybe she kept them so he’d carry her again.

Stannis returned to her side, kneeling down again. He was so tall, they were still eye-to-eye. Not only did the candlelight make his blush more obvious, it made his blue eyes look nearly black. A pair of unfocused, lust-filled blue eyes flashed across her vision, and she squeezed one of the cold hairpins in her hand to focus. It was like night and day.

“You didn’t …” Stannis started to say, breaking Y/N out of her unpleasant memory. “You usually … say goodnight.”

Y/N felt her chest tighten, but not in an unpleasant way. True, she usually walked to his desk to kiss him hello, and then a goodnight once she was dressed down and ready for bed. She’d urge him into bed, since he was clearly exhausted … and she may or may not have had certain ulterior motives.

“I’m sorry, Stannis. I’m rather tired.” Y/N said. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, and their noses brushed as she pulled away. Stannis closed his eyes, as if taking in her warmth and smell. A terrible thought occurred, if he could smell the alcohol and sweat and somehow, Robert.

Stannis frowned slightly. “Does your head trouble you?”

I bet he isn’t any good.

“Yes,” Y/N said quickly. “I … I don’t feel well.”

He doesn’t know what to do with a pretty thing like you.

She felt warm hands on her cheeks, then on her forehead. Stannis’ brow was furrowing in that way he always did, but instead of trying to solve ledgers and paperwork, he was puzzling over … her. Y/N’s cheeks warmed under that serious gaze, and she self-consciously looked away.

“I’ll fetch some water.” Stannis said, finally breaking the silence. It was clear he had more to say, but as always, his tongue ended up tied around her. By the time Stannis returned, Y/N was in her nightgown and nestled in bed. She hadn’t bothered to brush her hair out, or wash her face, which was so unlike her. With a frown, he set the water down and tucked her in. Perhaps she would feel better in the morning - and she’d wake to a good breakfast and a drawn bath.

Y/N felt just as disoriented and ugly waking up as she did falling asleep. She’d slept in far later than she had before, and opted to stay in the bedroom to nurse her hangover and lingering negative emotions. The handmaidens doted on her, spurred by Stannis’ concern - when she finally did wake, there was ointment, a hot bath and a large breakfast waiting for her.

When she next saw him, Y/N pretended she was better. It was easy to do that when her kisses and thankfulness were genuine. That made Stannis believe she really was better, that it was only a hangover, exhausting evening and bad shoes.

In time, Y/N could press that unpleasant night to the back of her mind. She could have never told Stannis because it would only cause trouble, and besides, what could he do? Robert was king. Nothing really happened. If she said anything, her friends would roll their eyes, insist it wasn’t that bad, or be openly jealous at having the attention of the king. She would pretend it was fine, and forget.

The rest of the courtiers wouldn’t do the same, however. There were whispers that grew into words. There were those who wanted gossip, those who had ill intent to begin with, those who were bored and wanted something new to gasp at. They all helped the words and rumors spread, and Y/N blocked them all out, taking refuge in her royal apartments. She never expected they’d reach Stannis; Usually he ignored the asinine gossip that spread around the Red Keep - the only thing that spread faster was the lover’s pox, he said. He never believed any of it, never even entertained listening to it.

Until he figured out what the handmaidens, knights, servants and lords and lords’ wives were tittering about. It was all the same thing.

For once, the young Baratheon didn’t think. He could barely see, let alone reason, with all the rage flowing through him. Anyone who saw him storm down the hall couldn’t deny he was a Baratheon. The anger in his blue eyes was like a summer hurricane.

He put all of his strength into throwing open the heavy doors to Robert’s private visiting chambers. All three of its occupants - Robert, Jon Arryn and Ser Jaime - startled from the abrupt noise. Jaime, who was normally quick to his sword, faltered when he saw who was the source of that noise.

Robert had already set down his drink. He wasn’t startled enough to drop it, but he did carelessly spill on the polished wood table. Robert anticipated something mundane wound up his little brother - taxes not adding up, maybe he forgot a meeting with a lord, something stupid like that. “Seven hells, Stannis, what’s got you fired up --”

“Keep your godsdamned hands to yourself, or I’ll cut them off!”

Robert nearly choked on his tongue, and Lord Arryn almost joined him. The old man was normally so quick to settle his former ward’s temper, but he hadn’t ever seen the same kind of wrath in Stannis. His mind was rushing for words to calm the man, but Jaime responded with action. The kingsguard stepped forward, his hand on his sword. “Is that a threat to your king, Lord Stannis?”

“What did it bloody sound like? Do I need to repeat myself?” Stannis’ teeth gritted. He didn’t even glance at Jaime.

Now it was Robert’s turn to flare his temper. “What the seven hell’s wrong with you, Stannis? Do you know who you’re talking to?”

Lord Arryn stepped between Robert, who was now standing, and his brother. The only other thing between them was a long mahogany table, now looking as small and pitiful as driftwood. “Your Grace, Lord Stannis - please take a moment and compose yourselves. Ser Jaime, there’s no need for --”

“You’ll show respect to your older brother, and your king!”

“I won’t give anything to a drunken lecher that would interfere with my wife!”

Robert jumped to his feet, and for a second, Jaime was sure he’d throw the table. It wouldn’t be difficult for the giant of a man. At the same time, Stannis reached for his waist, and Robert reached for his shoulder… and in an instant they both realized they weren’t armed, and thank the gods for that. Jaime didn’t doubt the servants would be scrubbing Stannis’ guts off the floor for days.

“Enough!” Lord Arryn bellowed. Slight as he was, he could have a commanding voice. “This is madness! What is your grievance toward His Grace, Lord Stannis? Has something happened?”

“He would know.” Stannis said. “At the last feast -- you disrespected Y/N, and her honor. You treated her like one of your whores.”

Robert’s face flushed red, and it was Jaime’s guess if that was from anger, embarrassment or the wine he was drinking earlier. Jaime had heard such rumors himself, and more scandalous ones, but he didn’t put stock in them. Plenty worse was said about himself. His green eyes went to the old man - based off Lord Arryn’s grave expression, he might have heard more. He might know the truth. Jaime felt a sudden surge of anger toward the king, not the first time he’d felt this. Cersei will have far worse to say to him when she hears about this

“I didn’t go that far,” Robert tried to regain his voice and authority. “Damn you, Stannis, I wouldn’t lay a hand on her! I can't even remember the blasted feast ... I woke up half-sick in my room.”

His strong tone began to falter as Robert tried to replay the night in his mind. It was clear he couldn't - as usual, wine had muddled his memories. No one in the room expected Stannis to take that as a valid excuse. "You did interfere, you just don't remember. You're always drinking too much, whoring too much --"

"I'm king and I'll do as I damn well please!" Robert said defensively. "There's no bloody law saying a king can't drink or touch a woman!"

"If the next one you touch is Y/N, I'll take care of you myself.”

Threats often lost their effect if you repeated them, but the words had a new menace with Stannis’ expression attached to them. His eyes could have been glaciers, and a chill settled upon the room as the three men remembered this is the man who often cut the hands of thieves and gelded rapists. He outlasted the Tyrell siege, and cut the fingers of the smuggler who helped him survive it. It was not that Stannis was a butcher, but he was fierce in what he thought was just, and he had the unyielding drive to see it done.

Lord Arryn was the first to break the cold spell that set upon them. He stepped forward, putting a hand gingerly on Stannis’ shoulder. The younger man didn’t flinch, but he didn’t look, either. Lord Arryn said with a low voice, “Let us speak outside, Lord Stannis. Please.”

The brothers stared each other down, and for the first time since knowing the King, Jaime watched him falter. His great shoulders sagged just slightly, and his eyebrows knit together. Robert wanted to say something, but finding the words was the problem. Jaime didn’t understand why until he finally spoke.

“Stannis, I… ... I don’t remember a thing, I swear it. I wouldn’t have done anything to your Y/N.”

The Kingslayer blinked. He’d never heard regret in Robert’s voice, and he wouldn’t hear it for some time. Lord Arryn was not surprised, only relieved.

Stannis was the implacable one. This didn’t satisfy him, not in the slightest. The oldest Baratheon had always done as he pleased, regardless of the consequences. He expected others to nod their heads and follow along, if they weren’t already encouraging him. So many did that, blind to the consequences Robert was dragging them into. This was just another slight he paid to his own brother, but Stannis felt this one especially hard. Of all the women in the Red Keep, Robert had to disrespect his -

No, it wasn’t right to refer to Y/N that way. She was not property, Stannis would never refer to her as that, nor should anyone. He was thinking of the other sense of the word, the other way to belong to someone. That way was far more binding than any marriage, and as illogical and senseless as it was, Stannis wanted it. This latest stint of Robert’s drunken foolishness made him realize if Y/N wanted anyone, she could have them. She was beautiful of course, but she had that wit, that intellect, that capacity to understand others and help them understand her. In the months they’d been married, he’d found himself relaxing in her presence, then being comforted by it, then actively wanting it. Desiring it.

Stannis bristled at the intrusive thoughts, but they were the truth. He hadn’t the slightest idea what she thought of him, if she was only performing and giving him the support expected of a wife, if she’d do this with any husband she’d been arranged to marry. He never had the nerve to ask. He couldn’t ask, fearing the answer.

Suddenly, he felt the old man’s hand squeeze his shoulder, and Stannis finally looked at Lord Arryn’s steady face. Calm as it was, his eyes were entreating Stannis to say something, or better, to leave it all behind. He realized he’d been silent for some time. They wanted him to forget all about it, like he should forget about Storm’s End and Dragonstone. Stannis grit his teeth, ignoring the shot of pain that went up his jaw. There was nothing he could say that would get through to his stubborn aurochs of an older brother.

“Just stay away from her,” He managed to say, his voice bouncing off the mostly empty chambers. He didn’t bother to say any more, or close the double doors as he left.

On any other day, Stannis made a point to walk carefully through the Red Keep. Unpopular as he was, his presence and reputation was still important to the throne. He and Robert were young, and usurpers, besides. They had to be careful. These Kingslanders were a nest of serpents, and there was no telling which was a viper and which was a garden snake.

But he couldn’t control the way his shoes echoed off the stone walls, or how he outright glared at any guard to get out of his way. He was still too thin, but there was no mistaking the anger in that tall body. He was taller than most of them, and he could appear as fierce as Robert when his temper finally rose.

Y/N. He had to see her, he had to talk to her. Gods, he should have as soon as he heard those disgusting rumors, but all he could think of was her and Robert, laughing, drinking, his arms around her - no, Stannis wouldn’t go there. Just the faintest imaginings hurt him more than he thought possible. He caught himself before he entered their shared apartment. He didn’t want to frighten Y/N by barging in, and he ought to collect himself. It wasn’t right to act like this in front of her.

Stannis took a deep breath and tried to unclench his jaw, like she always told him, but it was already aching. He rubbed at it absently and stepped inside, trying to steady his pounding heart.

It didn’t work. Y/N was sitting right there, relaxing on cushions at the large bay window.

He’d noticed she liked sitting there, so he had several cushions brought in to make it more comfortable. Her long linen dress was spread across them, and he could clearly see the outline of her curled up legs. One of the straps of the dress was drooping off her shoulder. When Y/N looked up from her book, she adjusted the strap. She smiled at him, looking better than she had that night. “Are you already finished with the small council?”

Stannis just thought she was tired that evening, or she had drunk too much. Knowing the truth, the guilt hit him at once. Why hadn’t she said anything? What did she think he would do, or wouldn’t do? Did she not trust him?

Before any more intrusive thoughts could surface and hurt him even further, he blurted, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N’s smile froze. “What are you talking about?” She asked.

“Robert. He interfered with you that night. You never told me.”

Stannis hadn’t meant it as an accusation, but as usual, he misspoke. Y/N’s face filled with anxiety, then fear. The book fell from her hands and slid to her lap.

“I-I … I wasn’t trying to hide anything, I just - he was drunk, so I thought it was best to forget…”

No, this wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want to frighten her like this. Stannis hated that expression on Y/N, one he’d never seen before, and one he caused. He crossed the room in a few steps, and his heart broke further when she leaned back.

“I talked to Robert,” He said, trying to explain, but that didn’t help. He may have made things worse. Damn it all, why couldn’t he talk to Y/N properly? Why did his chest have to seize and his senses have to leave? “I told him if he touches you again, I’ll remove his hands.”

“You didn’t!”

Stannis took her wrists and carefully, gently, trying to express something he couldn’t articulate. It was months of confusing thoughts and even more confusing feelings, and he was ruining it. What if she never smiled at him, or touched him again? What if she stayed afraid and wary?

“He’ll never touch you again, I swear it. I should have been there to protect you, and I wasn’t. I … I should have been with you, as a husband. I failed that.”

He moved his hands to her own, and as badly as he wanted to entwine their fingers, he didn’t think he deserved it. He always gave everything he had, he always put duty first, but it was only fitting he’d fail this one. He hadn’t the slightest idea how to handle women, how to talk to them or approach them, although Y/N was something else entirely. He was poor with people, he knew that, but this was his wife, and there was no excuse -

“Oh, Stannis,” Y/N said softly, that voice breaking him from his thoughts entirely. He looked at her painted lips, then her eyes, which had lost that fear. “Is that what you think?”

He wasn’t sure what she meant. “It’s the truth.”

“No, it isn’t. You didn’t fail anything.” Y/N wove their fingers together, squeezing his hands, and he thought his heart jumped into his throat from just that gesture. “You don’t control Robert. No one does. It’s just like him to do something like that, isn’t it?”

“But, I should have protected you -”

“By dueling him in front of everyone? Creating a scene at a feast?” Y/N asked, and before he could give a blunt answer she added, “He’s the king, Stannis, and we both know his… appetites. If it wasn’t me, it would’ve been some other girl, and … and it wasn’t so terrible as they all say…”

Stannis grit his teeth, tightening his grip on Y/N’s hands. “He shouldn’t, it’s unbecoming of a king, and besides that, it was still too much. Even a lecherous word is too much. You’re my -”

Mine.

“- my wife, and a lady of the Baratheon house.”

Y/N’s strap had fallen again, and her expressions still troubled, but he would take that over fear. Stannis reached out and fixed it, his fingers brushing across her warm skin. Y/N also reached out, but she pressed her thumb between his furrowed eyebrows. Stannis flinched back.

“Don’t wear that face,” She said softly. “I’ll be alright. I need time, and I’ll forget.”

“I won’t forget.”

“I know.” Y/N’s hand cradled his face, the same thumb stroking his cheek. Stannis releasing a hard breath. Just a simple touch and meeting her gaze was enough to bring the nerves back. He hated it, but he wouldn’t pull away, not even when Y/N kissed him. It was slow, and when she parted she said, “I know you would have protected me.”

He couldn’t meet her eyes anymore. Stannis glanced away. He noticed the strap had fallen again. “Y-You should have that fitted,” He said, fixing the offending thing. "It's too loose."

"Is it truly bothering you?”

"Yes."

Y/N giggled a little, and that was enough. He didn’t know how to make her laugh, so he was pleased when he did it by accident. She wiggled her shoulders so both straps slipped off, and with them, a little of her dress slipped down. “This fixes it, I think.”

Like she anticipated, Stannis' ears went red. He probably just realized that from his kneeling position, he was near eye level with her breasts. Pointedly trying to avoid looking was just making him more obvious.

Y/N squeezed his fingers and tugged Stannis forward. After a moment's hesitation, he shifted his position and sat on the cushions beside her. She wouldn't let go of his hand, so he leaned in, resting his head on her bare shoulder. Her skin was warm from sitting beside the window, and there was the distinct perfume she always wore. He could only smell it when he was this close, and it was oddly exciting, like a secret that only he knew. He listened to her faint pulse, how it matched with his breath as he rested on her shoulder. It reminded him of when they were intimate, when their chests were pressed together and their hearts beats were two separate sounds, trying to beat in tandem. She'd hold his hand then, like she did now.

That biting thought he had just minutes ago, that feeling of failure and confusion, was beginning to fade. It was difficult to feel like he'd done wrong when Y/N's fingers were trailing down his back. His tunic kept him from feeling them against his bare skin, but he knew that would change shortly. The anticipation of that spurred him on, pushing aside the last nagging anxieties.

While he kissed her neck, she sighed and curved her body against him, making him realize how cramped the bay window seat was. Y/N pulled on him again, and he followed her instruction. They ended up pressed against each other on the floor, lost in kisses and embraces. Y/N had lifted her leg up and let her dress fall down, and damned if his immediate reaction wasn’t stroking her bare thigh and squeezing it.

Y/N’s lips parted and she whined against him. “Stannis - wait, I meant to … I want to tell you something.”

“Hm?” He stopped his hand from trailing up any further. He felt like he had a fever, but fevers were never this pleasant.

“Did you - did you hear the talk about… Some of them were saying that I’m unhappy with you. That you bore me, or ignore me, or some such like that.”

Stannis frowned. He’d heard such things even before this mess, and didn’t understand why she brought it up. Y/N’s soft hands slid up his now wrinkled tunic and she gave him several light kisses as she continued, “I don’t ever want you to take those words to heart. You make me very happy, more than I ever thought I would be. I swear it, by your gods and mine.”

Her eyes were dazzling then, the sun from the window reflecting from them, and something else making them shine like stars. It was tears, he realized, though they didn’t fall to her cheeks. Stannis would’ve believed her without the swear, he’d believe her if she said even a fraction of those words, if those eyes shone even a little duller. She wrapped her arms around him, bringing their bodies even closer together, and gave him several breathless kisses.

The aching inside him was so strong, it was dizzying. When they parted from a longer kiss, Y/N asked, “Are you well?”

“No,” He said instantly, because he could swear he was having a heart attack. His chest was squeezing together like a giant was stepping on it, but it wasn’t … painful. “No, I am - I am well. And I am happy - with you, Y/N.” His words came out short, his mouth trying to keep up with the thoughts racing across his mind.

That seemed inadequate, but she smiled all the same. For the hundredth time he wondered if Y/N could read his thoughts. She leaned in for a kiss, and yelped in surprise as he swept her into his arms and stood up.

“Stannis! What are you -?”

“I’m not taking you on the bloody floor,” He muttered. The room had plush rugs and wood in lieu of rough stone and rushes, but it was still a floor, as far as he was concerned. “You deserve more than that. ...I want to give you more than that.”

“Oh?” Y/N grinned. She nuzzled his neck and kissed it, which only tightened his grip. “Show me how much you’ll give.”

She anticipated the flinch when she grasped his shoulders, and the quivering when she ran her hands down his bare back. When her arms wrapped across his torso and she pressed her cheek against his back, she could hear his heart thumping, like a dog's happy tail hitting the floor.

Y/N grinned at that, and softly giggled when Stannis tried to worm away. She understood it was nothing against her; he was antsy about too much affection, and she was certain the past hour was far beyond his limit.

One last kiss, then. She pressed her lips against the nap of his neck. "Are you needing something, my husband?"

"Tunic," Stannis mumbled. His pants were already on, but Y/N was shamelessly making the rest of the dressing difficult. His tall legs were swung over the bed, but Y/N was still clinging on, and he could feel every inch of her warm, naked embrace.

"Ah, yes, how forgetful of me." Y/N reached behind her, fetched the tunic from the mangle of sheets, and handed it to him. She promptly went back to her hug from behind.

Stannis grunted. "Y/N."

She was teasing too much, she knew. "Would you like some help? Those fasteners can be so tricky."

She just had to smile at the eye roll he gave her. It was times like this when Stannis acted his age: a young man in his twenties, with the dark circles under his eyes almost unnoticeable, and some flushed color on his skin. She hoped he was eating and sleeping better these days.

Y/N freed her prisoner and quietly watched him dress. Maybe another kind of man would stay in bed with her and laze the day away, but Stannis was not that sort, and she knew that. Personally, she wanted to stay in their apartments and avoid more social obligations. Her mind wandered to the rumors that surrounded them, that ugly reality breaking into this idyllic late afternoon.

At some point, Stannis had finished and was standing beside the bed. Y/N smiled and pulled on his hand, bringing him closer. Stannis only mildly resisted and asked again, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm well," Y/N replied. She entwined her fingers in his and kissed his palm. “Very well.”

Stannis flushed all over again. He hesitated, then leaned in and kissed his wife’s brow in return. “Whenever that isn’t the case, I want you to tell me.”

Looking down on her from that angle, with her hair splayed around her shoulders, the light from the window warming her skin and highlighting every curve. His throat felt dry, but he was pleased to hear her say, “I will.”

Stannis only nodded, but lingered like something was anchoring him. It was an uncomfortable ache that hit suddenly, even if he was ready to leave just minutes ago. He made it to the doorway, but glanced back. Y/N stood from the bed and swept one of her thin robes around her body. He could still see the outline of her legs and curves as she tied it tight. She glanced over her shoulder, strands of her hair falling from her shoulder to her back.

“You’re staring.” She teased. “Didn’t you have important work to do?”

There was always work to do, always some sort of duty to attend to. This was a duty in itself, keeping his wife happy and ensuring she was respected. He’d make sure those foul rumors were dispelled, one way or another. Still, it was strange for “duty” to be this … pleasant. This warm and safe. Stannis crossed the room to give her one last goodbye - a squeeze of the hand, and a promise to return - and he left.

#stannis baratheon x reader #got x reader #pls picture young stannis #still scrawny #already starting to lose his hair #downing coffee like hes 35 and stuck in a midlevel corporate job #libra fics

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skzsauce01 · 3 years

Text

Cutie Pie

Synopsis: Who’s your secret admirer? Guess you’ll have to unmask him at your academy’s end-of-term ball.

Warning: none

Word Count: 5.1k

Pairing: fem!reader x Bang Chan, best friends Sana and Nayeon

Saturday was the most anticipated day of the week. The academy only allowed mail to be collected on Saturdays, so Jihyo, the unofficial resident adviser, would head down to the mailroom early in the morning and collect all the packages and letters for everyone in the hall. She didn’t need to do such a thing when everyone had access to the mailroom, but it was a passed down ritual from the opening of the girls’ dorm. There would always be a few girls in the common room, waiting for their deliveries of skin products and 3 AM impulse buys. You would know; you were a sucker for a sale, no matter how much money your parents made.

However, this particular Saturday, every single girl was awake at seven o’clock and impatiently waiting for Jihyo to appear. Even you, who had pulled an all-nighter on Thursday to cram study, had let your excited roommate and friend Sana drag you into the common room with no complaints. Despite how exhausted you felt, you wanted to know what the theme of the end-of-term ball was as well.

You yawned and huddled closer to Sana on the plush velvet couch. You wished she would have let you grab your thick comforter before you left. The usually lit fireplace — though more for decoration than actual function — held nothing but ashes, and the big, drafty room was colder than usual. You shivered and mumbled a few choice words to your roommate, who was in too good of a mood to retort back. Luckily, Nayeon, who was on Sana’s other side, threw a section of her own comforter to you, and you gratefully snuggled under it.

“Thank you,” you said, nose already buried by fluffy white fur.

Sana poked your arm. “What do you think the theme is this year?”

You shrugged. You were always bad at guessing. “Winter Wonderland?”

“That’s what we did two years ago!” she shook her head. “Hey, Nayeon. What about you?”

However, before Nayeon could reply, Jihyo entered the room with an armful of boxes. “Mail!” she cheerfully announced.

Normally, girls would descend upon her like a murder of crows to pick up their packages, but everyone stayed still and stared at the rolled up poster at the top of the mail pile. They all watched as she slowly set down the boxes in the middle of the room and eagerly waited for her to say the theme. But Jihyo only grinned and teasingly asked why no one wanted their orders.

“Jihyo! Tell us already!” Momo whined. She raised the pillow she was previously hugging, threatening to throw it at the older girl.

“Okay, okay,” Jihyo smiled. Agonizingly slow, she unrolled the theme announcement poster. “This year’s end-of-term ball is… Midnight Masquerade!”

A wave of gasps and whispers rippled across the room. This was something no one was expecting; more often than not, themes were recycled from the ones twenty years ago. Thrilled by the prospects of daring new outfits and dancing with a boy, the murmurs evolved into full length conversations. You slunk low into your seat while half listening to Sana and Nayeon decide what color to wear. A masquerade, huh? Not only were there now dresses and shoes to discuss, but also masks. Since everyone would be less noticeable wearing them, then maybe…

“Maybe your secret admirer will ask you to the ball!” Sana suddenly said out loud.

“Shh!” you hissed. You quickly scanned the room to make sure no one heard. Fortunately, everyone was engrossed in their own worlds.

Your roommate rolled her eyes. “Who doesn’t know about him at this point? He bought all your leftover apple pies during the Fall Festival.”

“Who could forget?” you said, remembering how fifty apple pies were bought in a single purchase.

You paced the tiny area inside the booth. It was the last day of Fall Fest, and there were still boxes of unbought apple pies. If you didn’t sell them all in an hour, the club would lose money. Not that it really mattered, you thought to yourself, as JYP was a private academy that received exorbitant amounts in donations and tuitions anyway. Surely the student council would allocate some funds for the Astronomy Club. However, the club’s reputation would be hurt, and selling apple pies had been your idea. Being president sucked sometimes.

Seungmin, another board member of the club, soon returned from his break, and you guiltily dumped the task on him. You promised to come back ten minutes before Fall Fest ended, and he merely waved you off. You spent the rest of the time doing your best to steal customers from other food booths, but no one seemed to want gourmet apple pie when there was a lobster food truck around.

When your time was up, you headed back to the booth with a frown and a posture that would have been deemed unacceptable by your mother. To your confusion and delight, there were no more pies left. Seungmin explained that someone purchased all of them on behalf of his employer. He also offhandedly mentioned that the man muttered, “What is that boy going to do with all this?” while handing him the money.

You prodded Seungmin for more answers, but that was all he knew.

“And he sent you that cute card after, too!” Nayeon chimed in.

You received the card the next Saturday after the festival. When you went to check if you got any mail, there was a horde of girls surrounding the coffee table. Momo had an envelope in her hand, and you assumed it was another letter for her from her long distance boyfriend, but to your surprise, Momo herself presented it to you with a flourish. The fancy white envelope had your name inked across the center in rose gold.

“Who is it from?” Dahyun asked, standing on her tiptoes behind you, trying to read over your shoulder.

You carefully opened it and immediately felt heat rushing to your face when you read the simple message on the creamy paper: “I think you’re a cutie pie” followed by a line drawing of an apple pie.

Dahyun had read it out loud, and news that you had a secret admirer spread throughout the academy like a wildfire. Even after a month, no one could even mention pie without a teasing glance in your direction.

“What if he reveals himself to you at the ball?” Jeongyeon stage-whispered. Evidently, no one wanted to talk about dresses anymore when a mysterious boy was involved. “Wouldn’t that be romantic?”

Too flustered by being the center of attention, you didn’t respond. You had to admit, Jeongyeon was right. Six-year-old you would have swooned at the current situation, and bold thirteen-year-old you would have pestered anyone and everyone for more information. Fall Fest you simply kept the note hidden in your desk drawer and secretly reread it. Sana caught you once, and it was embarrassing to say the least.

“Y/N, are you busy then?”

Sana’s words snapped you out of your haze. You looked at her. “Hm?”

“Shopping next Sunday!” she brightly answered. “Nayeon said she’ll drive us!”

So, it was set. You and Sana would meet Nayeon in the common room at 9:30 to check out the new boutique downtown. However, you already had an idea of what you wanted to wear and were starting to draw the design in your head. You made a mental note to call up your favorite fashion house to place an order. You would go shopping for shoes, but the dress and its matching mask was a done deal.

Sana and Nayeon had similar ideas, and the three of you made a promise to each other and yourselves to only focus on accessories though you were sure that pact would be broken the moment you all stepped foot into downtown.

The rest of the week flew by quickly. Amidst doing homework and studying, you chatted with the other students about the masquerade, which was only a month away. Some of the boys started asking girls to the ball with elaborate bouquets, self-composed songs, and in one case, a choreographed dance number. Sana and Nayeon crossed names off their “Who Could Y/N’s Secret Admirer Be?” list with each asking. By Friday night, their list was tacked onto the bulletin board in the common room so other girls could contribute. You stationed yourself on a nearby couch, pretending to be busy typing an essay on your laptop. You were too curious to actually write anything, so instead you watched like a hawk whenever someone even came close to the bulletin board.

“... and Ok Taecyeon,” Dahyun read aloud. “So, it’s not them. How about…” She closed her eyes and jabbed her finger to a random spot. “The wall?”

“Definitely not the wall,” you giggled.

“He’s kind of cute though. Dark blue paint, random fliers.”

You laughed at her as she began cooing at the wall, telling how dashing it looked in dark blue. Dahyun was always trying to make you feel better about the situation. She was the last person to come by for the night, and you begrudgingly headed back to your dorm to go to bed an hour after Dahyun left.

Saturday afternoon you went to check your mail after waking up. The winter coat you ordered arrived on Wednesday, and you desperately needed it now that temperatures were starting to drop. To your surprise, the common room was nearly full, and the commotion turned into silence as you came into view.

“Hey,” you cautiously said. “Did something happen?”

“You got a letter,” was the simple answer.

Like people passing each other buckets of water to put out a fire, the girls passed down the letter to you. You didn’t miss the sly looks that were exchanged. Once the thick envelope was in your hand, a sense of deja vu washed over you. When you glanced down, your name was written in rose gold, in the same loopy calligraphy from the Fall Festival. Your heart fluttered, and you knew why, but the lump of anxiety in your stomach you didn’t understand. Maybe it was because you wanted privacy for such a momentous moment. Maybe it was because you had fifteen pairs of eyes on you.

“What does it say?” Jeongyeon asked, graciously not saying what everyone wanted to know — “Who is it from?”

You might as well get it over with, you reasoned, since everyone would badger you with questions anyway. You lifted the flap, breaking the red wax. You noted that the family coat of arms featured two floppy-eared dogs and branches with rounded leaves. The last letter didn’t have a seal, you remembered. The same cream-colored stationery as before greeted your eyes, and you opened the card with gentle fingers, taking care not to crease it.

Meeting you would be grand. I’ll be waiting with a red rose in hand.

A pressed rose petal decorated the bottom half of the note, and you absentmindedly touched it while trying to slow your racing heart. Your eyes were glued to the message, rereading it over and over again. This was it, your chance to finally meet him. A hint of a smile started to show on your face, and Mina, observant as always, pointed it out.

“Is it something good?” she said, already knowing the answer.

You nodded, hiding your visibly flustered face with the envelope. Cheers erupted throughout the room, Sana being the loudest one of them.

“So, who is it?” Nayeon asked. “Is it BamBam? He’s been acting suspicious lately.”

“Jeongin? He always asks you for help,” Chaeyoung suggested.

You reread the card, searching for a signature, an inside joke, something to indicate the sender. Unfortunately, all you had was the seal, but you recognized none of the elements that would help you narrow down your search.

You showed everyone the broken wax. “Anyone know whose family seal this is?” You handed the envelope to the closest girl, who glanced at it and passed it to the next person.

When it reached Sana, she brought it centimeters away from her eyes, scrutinizing every little detail she could pick out. “It looks familiar, but I don’t know,” she finally said out loud. “I’ll ask around. Okay if I take a picture, Y/N?”

“Please.” You wanted to know who this mystery boy was more than anyone.

The envelope came back to you, and you carefully tucked the card inside. The crowd started to thin out as girls started to head back to their rooms or out of the dorms. So did you.

Once inside your room, the package that held your much needed winter coat was left discarded at the foot of your bed. With shaky hands, you reopened both the cards you had received from your secret admirer. You traced the words with a trembling finger, feeling the imprints made by the fountain pen, marvelling at how elegant his handwriting was. It was written by someone with a firm hand and a delicate touch, you imagined. Someone who was deliberate and kind and…

You shook your head. There was no sense in projecting your hopes of him on him, especially since you didn’t even know who he was.

Yet with only a slight feeling of embarrassment and some guilt, you lifted the stationery to your nose in a poor attempt to sniff out his cologne. All you smelled was expensive paper, and your whole body heated up when you realized how shameless you were a mere two seconds ago. Thank goodness Sana was busy and had no chance of bursting in.

You hid both letters inside your desk and opened your package, pretending that the past five minutes didn’t happen. The whole day was like that, pretending that you were cool, calm, collected when you really had the energy equivalent of five cups of black coffee coursing through your veins.

Sana came back with no new answers. At night, you drifted in and out of sleep, wondering who he was and how he would reveal himself to you.

As decided, you and Sana met up with Nayeon in the common room at 9:30 the following day. You yawned, regretting not taking any melatonin before you went to bed; you were tired from hours of unrestful sleep. Luckily, Nayeon, the driver, was in a much better state than you.

“I asked BamBam yesterday,” she said as she pulled out of the parking lot, “and he says it’s not him. I asked about his seal, and his is completely different.”

“He could be lying. What if he used someone else’s seal to trick Y/N?” Sana gasped.

“But why would he even do that? There wasn’t any seal on the first letter I got,” you replied. “It’s probably just a hint.”

“Ah! So he wants you to know who he is but is too shy to say it outright!” Sana declared. “But someone has to know. Is it too much if I post an ad in JYPaper?”

“Yes.” The school newspaper had many readers, and you didn’t want to be known as The Girl with the Secret Admirer again. “I don’t think they even allow things like that. We have at least three weeks to figure out who he is anyway.”

“Killjoy,” Sana pouted.

Soon, the three of you arrived in front of the boutique. As expected, the promise to buy only accessories for the masquerade was broken when Nayeon spotted an emerald green dress with lace details.

“Maybe I’ll wear this instead,” she wondered out loud. Before any of you could stop her, she grabbed it off the rack and brought it to the register, not even bothering to check the size.

You and Sana shared looks before heading over to the display of shoes. A cursory glance told you that none of them would match your dress the way you wanted. Despite that, you tried on a silver heel bedazzled with possibly real diamonds as Sana selected a black velvet pump. Nayeon returned with a brand new bag with the boutique’s name emblazoned on the front.

It was a similar experience at the other stores the three of you later visited. At least one of you would buy an unneeded item, while the main purpose of buying shoes for the masquerade was forgotten. The topic of your secret admirer, however, was not as lucky. At the end of the day, you had learned far too much about the Hwang family’s supposed seal, and Nayeon’s trunk was filled with shopping bags of various sizes and multicolored tissue paper. No progress was made.

“Y/N,” Sana started, her voice in an uncharacteristic lilt that typically meant she was going to ask for a favor, “can you take my bags too? Chan says he’s free now, and I want to ask him about the seal.”

“Can’t you just do it over text? I bet Chan wouldn’t mind,” you said. You threaded the handles of as many bags as you could through your arms. “You bought so many things.”

“If I do it in person, I’ll know if he’s lying or not.”

“He’s on the student council,” Nayeon pointed out. “We voted for him because he’s honest and trustworthy.”

“Please? He’s my friend, and I haven’t talked to him in ages,” she tried. For some strange reason, you couldn’t help but feel that it was a flimsy excuse for her not to take her fifteen bags back to the dorms.

“I’m your friend too,” you huffed. Despite your show of annoyance, you grabbed one of her bags as well. The last time she and Chan spoke face-to-face was two weeks ago, which was ‘ages’ since they usually had dinner together at least twice a week. “Fine. But he better know something useful.”

Sana lit up and eagerly waved goodbye. You called after her, “You’re treating me to dinner tomorrow!”

Nayeon added, “Me too!” as she picked up a black bag with gold ribbons for handles.

After three trips back and forth, Nayeon’s car was finally empty. Sana still had not returned, so the two of you went to the dining hall for a late night snack. Nayeon checked the “Who Could Y/N’s Secret Admirer Be?” list and read off the names still not crossed off.

(Apparently, Jeongyeon had created a spreadsheet and shared it with all the girls, so the list could be updated in real time. You were both surprised and not surprised at this news.)

“What about Felix?” she suggested. She flashed her phone screen at you, and Lee Felix had no strikethrough. “He’s a new transfer, so maybe that’s why no one recognizes the seal. Or maybe he doesn’t have a seal.”

You shrugged, more focused on the cheese platter on a nearby table. “Maybe,” you said, loading your plate with delicious morsels.

Nayeon mumbled something about your disinterest when food was in front of you, but she did the same. Chaeyoung, seated in a booth near a window with her own plate of cheese and crackers, waved you over.

“Rumor has it that your secret admirer is Lee Felix,” she said, forgoing a greeting.

Right beside you, Nayeon hissed, “See! I was right!”

“Someone saw him with some red roses last week, and your card did have a rose petal on it,” she continued. She nibbled on a small block of cheese as she looked for your reaction.

You chewed on your bottom lip. Was it really him? Was Lee Felix your secret admirer? You only knew him by a string of associations — Chan’s friend. Sana’s friend’s friend. He was pretty cute, you admitted.

“Maybe,” you replied, already thinking about his sharp jawline and the dusting of freckles across cheeks. “But only three more weeks until I find out.”

Sana had been acting strangely recently. She had started asking lots of specific questions about things you liked in guys. While you would have normally brushed this aside as Sana being Sana, she would follow up with questions like, “What do you think of this quality in a boyfriend?” Your answers were noncommittal, but she always smiled far too innocently and typed it on her phone. When your star-embroidered dress and its matching mask for the ball had arrived, a hint of a grin had appeared on her face. Then she had squealed, “He’ll love it!” and immediately clasped a hand over her mouth, like she had just told a huge secret. During the latest shopping trip with her and Nayeon — where you finally found a pair of heels you liked — Sana had smirked when the three of you unexpectedly ran into Chan and Felix, also shopping for the ball.

“Is it Lee Felix?” you asked moments after the boys were out of earshot.

She pretended not to hear you. “Hey, Nayeon, what do you think of that dress over there?”

You frowned, debating whether this meant it was Felix was not Felix. But it was clear that she knew something.

Weeks passed, and there was no new information about who your admirer could be. Much to your disappointment, Sana kept her lips sealed and tactfully changed topics whenever the masquerade was brought up.

Now that everyone was getting ready for the masquerade, she was dancing about you, deciding where to best place the decorative pins in your hair. You were fine with the situation earlier since you were waiting for Momo to finish Dahyun’s makeup, but Dahyun had been long gone.

“Here! No, here!” Sana selected a new location, deemed it not perfect, and took out the pin.

Momo, who had been patiently waiting to start on your makeup for a solid five minutes, gave you a sympathetic smile. “Sana, are you close to done yet?” she asked. “We’re going to be even later than we are now.”

“But she has to look perfect! She’s about to meet her secret admirer!”

The few girls present in the common room — where Momo had set up for the night — murmured in agreement.

Sighing, you snatched the handful of pins away from her and stuck them artfully into your curls. Or as artfully as you could in five seconds. It didn’t matter; they were shaped like stars, so they would look nice anyway. “There. Hair, check.”

After makeup was complete, Nayeon carefully tied your masquerade mask back, and Tzuyu held up a mirror for you. With Momo’s handiwork and half of your face covered, you barely recognized yourself. Your heart raced at the discovery; would he recognize you then? The letters he sent rested on your lap, and you absentmindedly touched the broken wax seal.

“All ready to go!” Sana cheerfully said. She pulled you up from your chair and linked arms with you. “Let’s find out who he is.”

Would it be Lee Felix, the top candidate among the girls, or someone who had gone by unnoticed? You gripped your skirts tighter in anticipation, and Sana slapped your wrist away in fear that you would wrinkle the fabric.

Downstairs, the ballroom was packed. Nayeon opened the double doors with bravado, and dozens of eyes looked in your direction. You thought everyone with their masks on looked like great horned owls staring you down, and you self-consciously adjusted yours, to Nayeon’s chagrin.

“What do I do?” you whispered to yourself. All the onlookers had returned to their own business, and you followed your friends through the crowd. “How do I even find him in all this?”

Nayeon had great hearing. “Red rose, remember?” she said. The baroque music nearly drowned out her answer. “He’s waiting with a red rose.”

“We’ll meet you by the punch table!” Sana shouted, already disappearing into the throngs of people. She grabbed Nayeon by the elbow, and you were left alone.

Stricken by the fact that you had no idea what to do and that your friends had basically ditched you, you stood in place. The letters were hidden in the folds of your skirt, and you repeatedly tapped on the sharp corner of the envelope to calm your anxiousness. You had imagined a Cinderella-like reveal, where the crowd would part and your prince would be waiting on the other end of the ballroom. Then he would reveal himself, and the two of you would dance the night away. Though in hindsight, the current situation was much more likely to happen.

You scanned the room, looking for any sign of red. Ties, dresses, masks, but not a single flower. Why was red such a popular color for masquerades?

“Y/N?” you heard to your left.

Eyes wide, you turned in that direction, only to see a boy with a rose in hand talking to a girl with a midnight blue feathered mask. Dahyun, you realized. Dahyun laughed and shook her head before pointing in your direction. Her and her eagle eyes, you gratefully thought.

The next part felt like a dream. Like a princess from a story, you picked up your skirts and walked up to him. It was him who was frozen in place now as you neared him. The background blurred as you focused solely on him, surreptitiously studying the exposed part of his face. His black mask blocked you from seeing his eyes, but the embarrassed smile was familiar.

“Hi,” he breathed, holding out the rose to you.

Heart beating, you took it and replied, “Hi.” After a beat, you blurted out, “Who are you?”

The smile turned into a grin, and you felt your cheeks growing hotter as you realized that his grin was just for you. Oh, he was cute. Or the lower half of his face was at least. “Don’t recognize me?”

“Should I?” You checked the broken seal on the second letter. Was there a secret message on there that you missed or something? It was still the floppy-eared dogs and what you learned from Jihyo’s research was eucalyptus branches.

“Wow, Sana actually didn’t tell you?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought she would have.”

“Sana? What does she have to do with this?”

“She’s a mutual friend of ours. She’s one of my closest friends too. We’ve known each other for years.”

Then, it all dawned upon you. Sana, who thought the seal looked familiar, who wanted to speak to an old friend in person, who looked like she had been hiding a secret from you during the past three weeks. Sana, who had fussed over your appearance, who left you in the center of the ballroom for no real reason.

“Chan?” you whispered.

“Yeah. Are you disappointed?”

“No! I’m just surprised! I didn’t think that— Everyone thought it would be Felix, so I… kind of believed it…”

“If you want to dance with Felix, then I can get him for you,” he quietly offered, his face falling.

You caught his sleeve before he could turn away, and you didn’t miss his shocked expression when you quickly said, “No! I want to dance with you. Really.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I’m sure. Please stay.”

You loosened your own mask and let it hang around your neck. Suddenly you felt shy now that all of your face was showing. You vaguely knew Chan from years of being friends with Sana, but this was a completely new experience and feeling.

“You look really beautiful,” he softly said. “I like the stars on your dress and in your hair.”

“You look handsome too,” you shyly replied. Sensing a possible awkward lull in the conversation, you asked, “So… why did you think Dahyun was me?”

He groaned and looked away. The tips of his ears matched the flower you were holding. “Sana told me your dress was dark blue, and Dahyun’s was blue as well.”

You smiled, remembering Dahyun loudly announcing that the common room wall was her date and that she would be matching with it for the ball.

“Did she tell you that I would be waiting here, too? She and Nayeon ditched me here.”

“Yeah,” he admitted. With a sudden burst of confidence, he stepped forward, his hands hovering around your waist. “She told me a lot of things, but especially about you.”

“Like what?” You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck, and he jumped but pulled you closer nonetheless. The two of you began to sway to the music. “That I wake up in the afternoon on the weekends and she hates it because she has to tiptoe around?”

He laughed, and the lines around his eyes crinkled. “Yes, but other things as well. That you like stars and that you stayed up late to help her study for an exam even though you pulled an all nighter the night before.”

“Oh?” You remembered it, but you didn’t think she told anyone.

“Yeah. She made you sound unreal. I checked out the Astronomy Club booth in Fall Fest to meet you myself, but I got shy. You looked really pretty that day,” he added, making you blush. “And then I heard you and Seungmin talking about how many pies you guys had left, so I decided to help out.”

“By buying all of them.”

“Yeah. Kind of a stupid idea, now that I think about.”

“You definitely got my attention.” You rested your head on his shoulders and felt him sharply inhale. He relaxed soon after, and you continued with, “I couldn’t stop thinking about your card for weeks.”

“And I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he quietly replied, earning yet another blush from you.

He leaned closer, and you felt a breath get hitched in your throat until he whispered, “Not to alarm you or anything, but everyone’s watching us.”

A quick peek was all you needed to confirm his words. Dahyun was still lingering around, and Sana miraculously showed up, looking like the cat who swallowed the canary. Seungmin looked like he was giving Chan overly enthusiastic thumbs-ups.

“Do you wanna still wanna dance?” he mumbled. The music was loud enough that no one would be able to hear, but it was something intimate in a scene where the two of you were being gawked.

“Come with me,” you said.

“To wh— Oh!”

You slithered out of his hold and led him by the wrist through the crowd of onlookers to a more secluded spot near one of the giant windows in the hallway. Groups of people parted for you like the fairy tale scene you had imagined earlier. With your skirts flowing back and a handsome boy behind you, it certainly felt like a fairy tale. Once the two of you were alone, you leaned against the wall and looked up at him.

“So, who exactly is the guy beneath the mask?” you ask, pointing at him with the rose. “I wanna know more about him since he already knows so much about me.”

He pushed his mask up to his neatly combed hair and smiled at you, full dimples on display, galaxies in his eyes. “Just someone who thinks you’re a cutie pie.”

~ ad.gray

#stray kids #skz #bang chan #chan #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #fluff #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fluff #bang chan fluff #stray kids x reader #twice #20201203

229 notes · View notes

mandoalorian · 3 years

Note

hi i’d like max x reader where he’s having very stressful day at work like everything that can go wrong does go wrong and the reader is his gf and bc of all this stuff going wrong he forgets that she’s supposed to visit him at work so she comes in and starts talking about her day and how great it was and then he just shoots up and goes to hug her and starts kissing her and playing with her hair and she’s like ??? cause this never happens and he just lays his head on her lap and he rants about his day and she listens and she tries to comfort him as best she can thank u 🥺

Rough Day At Work [Maxwell Lord x Reader]

Author's note: Oh. my god. This is a long one. I write a lot of Maxwell fluff but this one is by far one of my favourites. It's a journey of pure, unadulterated sweetness with a sliver of comedy. And it's set at Christmas— perfect to get you in the festive mood! Reblogs appreciated because this isn't showing up in tags.

Word count: 6.5k

Warnings: food mention, drink mention, brief allusions to sex, Maxwell is ~stressed~.

Rating: PG-13

Masterlist in pinned! Requests open x

Maxwell Lord had his fair share of bad days. Things almost always went wrong in his line of work, but it was almost never his fault. He could always squander up an excuse or find someone else to blame. But today it was one thing after another.

He was late. He had a meeting with the board team first thing but as the Christmas traffic filled the bustling roads of DC, he had already missed the first twenty five minutes of the conference. He practically fell out of the black limo that drove him to work every morning, plodging his feet through the thick layers of snow. It was so deep this morning, the ice cold water seeped through his leather Armani shoes and even through his favourite cashmere socks. The ones with little purple polka dots. He shivered uncomfortably as the clumps of ice sat in between his toes, melting, and so every footstep made an obscene squelching noise. He didn't have the time to fuss around and change his shoes. The bottoms of his tailored pants were dripping. He bolted through the glass revolving doors of Black Gold Cooperative, trailing a pool of water behind him. His receptionist Anna, and his assistant Raquel, stood up abruptly, their eyes widening as they saw their boss in such a hurried frenzy.

"Mr Lord! You have your nine o’ clock meeting and it’s now nine twenty-” Raquel raised her hand and called for him, but he didn't bother to stop in his tracks.

"Yes Raquel, I know!" Maxwell yelled after her, already tapping his feet impatiently as he waited for the elevator. "Cmon, cmon…" he grumbled as it slowly made its way down from the 25th floor to the ground floor.

When Maxwell entered the board meeting, his cheeks were a rosy pink from the cold winter weather. His eyes were glazed and the waves in his dark blonde hair were falling out of place. He had styled it perfectly this morning, the same way he did it every morning. You had even helped him, brushing through his locks when he had hopped out the shower. But now he looked as though he had just run a marathon, breaking out in a cold sweat. He swore if he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror, he'd have a heart attack. But surely, the day couldn't get any worse. Right? Maxwell had made it to the meeting, albeit late. At least he was there.

Wrong.

"I am so sorry." he scrambled, plopping his briefcase down on the table and slipping past the many occupied chairs. He slumped down in one eventually, pulling out in a notepad and pen. "Bad traffic," he huffed. "Can someone give me the lowdown?"

He eventually looked up to see his company. Twelve older ladies in pink button down dresses and white frilly aprons, their hair tied back into matching low buns. Maxwell froze up, his gaze wandering from woman to woman as it slowly began to sink in.

"Mr Lord…" the woman at the head of the table said cautiously. She looked just as baffled. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I've worked for Black Gold Cooperative for five years now but never did I expect to see you in person."

Maxwell looked back at the other girls who were all nodding in agreement, beaming with excitement. "Uh." He didn't know what to say, but instead, he placed his pen and notepad back into the inside of his suit jacket pocket and stood up. "I think- I think I'm in the wrong meeting." he announced.

"We are the body of staff who are responsible for the cleanliness and hygiene of your company sir. We spend ten hours a day washing and tidying every surface, every inch of this building. We take great care of it." one of the ladies spoke up and Maxwell became even more confused. Although clearly, on a day like this, it didn't take much to confuse him.

"The cleaning staff have meetings in here?" He wondered out loud, immediately regretting the words as soon as they left his lips. He didn't want to come off as rude. "I mean, I'm your employer. Pft, of course I know that you have meetings. And I'm glad you do so. It's good to take direction!" he was doing that motivational voice he used on television, making the 60 year old cleaners swoon with admiration. "I- I should get going but. Uh, yes. Lovely to meet you all."

"Mr Lord!" A lady with ebony hair and crinkles by her eyes stood up, handing Maxwell his briefcase. He nodded appreciatvely and walked to the door where her hand met his arm and stopped him in his tracks. "Could I get your autograph, please? I'm just a huge fan of your infomercials."

Maxwell checked the time on his wristwatch. Almost half an hour late, but he couldn't deny one of his cleaners. Once upon a time he wouldn't have bothered giving them a second glance yet he leaned over the table and signed his name on a sticky note. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Pamela," she beamed brightly.

"Nice to meet you Pamela, have a good day." he pat her shoulder and went open the door when another voice yelled his name.

"Mr Lord!" a woman with white hair stood up, a grin pinned on her face. "I'm Doris," she introduced confidently, but her voice was shaky with her old age. "I remember when your father was on the television. I used to clean for him too, you know? Oh, he was such a lovely gentleman. And you look more and more like him every day. Such a handsome man, you are."

Maxwell stiffened up, his hand grabbing the door handle so hard he was sure his knuckles might've turned white. "Oh," was the only thing that could really leave his lips. He wanted to leave.

"Mr Lord, your father I mean-, every Christmas he'd give little old me a kiss," she recalled, her heart blooming at the memory. "Of course I wasn't old then. I was young. And beautiful."

Maxwell exhaled and nodded his head, unsure of really what to say or where this conversation was going. All he could think about was the board meeting that he was already extremely late for. Maxwell pushed down on the door handle and Doris let out a long dramatic sigh, making Maxwell pause once again to hear what she had to say. "I haven't been kissed like that, by a man as attractive as your father, in years." she sighed longingly, fluttering her eyelashes.

That was when Maxwell realised. He sighed quietly, his eyes scanning the room. All the cleaners were staring at him, expecting him to make his move on poor old Doris. Then, he turned back to Doris and offered her that familiar Hollywood smile. The same smile that the whole world was used to seeing on five o'clock television. He took her hand and brushed a soft kiss over her wrinkled knuckles before gently dropping her hand again. There was no denying the pink blush that coloured her cheeks. The action earned a few squeaks and squeals around the room and while they were all babbling with excitement about what they'd just witnessed happen to their friend Doris, Maxwell took the opportunity to run.

He did finally make it to the meeting. He squeezed past his business associates, trying to locate his chair around the table. In the process, he knocked over a cup of coffee. It spilled all over Maxwell, and one of his colleagues. Maxwell's pale blue suit jacket was now stained with brown espresso, and he knew it would take more than just a few washes to get the stain out. He muttered a small 'sorry' before finding his seat and taking out his notepad and pen. Just as he finished writing the date at the top of his piece of paper, the director of the meeting called it quits and everyone flustered out of the room.

All this had happened and it was only ten in the morning.

Luckily, that was the only meeting of the day and he knew he was going to be spending the rest of the day in his office doing paperwork. That was easy enough. Maxwell padded into his enormous office which took up the entirety of the top floor at Black Gold Cooperative headquarters. He shut the double doors, finding peace in knowing that there was no need for anyone to come in and distract him. Maxwell tugged off his blazer and hung it on the back of a chair. He unclipped his suspenders that held his tailored pants up, and threw them to one side, along with his shoes and soaked socks. He padded into the closet at the back of his office and shuffled out of his pants, changing into some grey sweatpants.

He smiled, beginning to feel warm again. Wearing the sweatpants reminded him of you and it made him feel like he was at home. He remembered a few weeks into your relationship; your surprise when you caught a glimpse of his wardrobe. Not a single piece of casual wear in sight. You wondered if Maxwell Lord had ever known the comfort of sweatpants and so, that afternoon, you went out and bought him a pair. They changed his life. Maxwell would always favour his suits, that's just who he was, but he would love to wear the sweats when he wanted to lounge about in the house.

He was tired. His hair was still damp, the dark blonde waves curling at the nape of his neck and falling out of place every time he tried to remedy it. He still smelled vaguely of espresso, and was still haunted by the interaction of Doris the cleaner. He pursed his lips together into a thin line at the memory of kissing her hand.

Maxwell walked over to his desk and sunk into his chair, holding his head in his hands. Finally some peace.

Until there was a loud knock at the door. Maxwell swung his head back and groaned. "Come in!" he shouted, quickly composing himself for whoever wished to see him. It was his blonde assistant, Raquel.

"Hi sir!" she beamed, waving her free hand and placing a glossy catalogue on the table.

"Raquel." Maxwell nodded politely, sitting up and looking at the catalogue she had positioned before him.

"For the Christmas gala," she explained, flicking open the pages and pointing out different things. She'd carefully highlighted and labelled everything she wanted to show him, making it easier for his conveience. "I was thinking huge black and gold balloons with the company name on. Gold confetti. Banners and streamers hanging from every corner. A buffet, and every table cloth will also have the company's name on, printed in small, glitter ink." Her loud and chatty voice was giving Maxwell a headache.

"Yeah, balloons with Black Gold Cooperative written on really scream ‘Have a Very Merry Capitalist Christmas’." he sighed, slowly looking up at her. She blinked a few times. "Well Raquel?" he quizzed, growing irritable. It wasn't her fault, it's just everything was beginning to build up. She blinked again, dumbfounded by his comment. "Is that what Christmas is about to you?"

"W-what do you mean?" she asked nervously, removing her hand from the catalogue and taking a step back from his desk.

"What about red and green balloons? We'll have a Christmas tree in the ballroom. We could even make it family friendly and hire a Santa Claus for the kids to meet." Maxwell suggested. "And no weird company merchandise."

Raquel blinked, not saying a word. It had never really dawned on Maxwell how much you had changed him. His staff realised practically instantly— from the moment he came into work after the first time you had spent the night, it was like he was a changed man. He held the door open for people, he wished people a good morning. And as your relationship with him developed, you opened up a brand new side to him. He became more affectionate and caring for those around him, a feeling he had shut off from the world for his entire life.

He had never cared for Christmas, never cared as much to host a Christmas gala either. His father died during the festive season and it hadn't been the same without him. His mother didn't do much to celebrate. Maxwell had everything he always wanted; all the new toys and fanciest designer clothes. But it meant nothing to him without his father. Christmas meant nothing to him without love. That's why it all changed when he met you. You finally brought love back into his life, and everything felt whole again. You completed him. You taught him how to enjoy events and celebrate. You taught him happiness but most importantly, you taught a cold and broken man how to love and be loved in return.

The Christmas gala was your idea. One night, around a month ago, you and Maxwell were both lying in bed together. Maxwell had expressed to you that he wanted to do something special for his staff at work. Over the past few years since he had met you, he'd slowly been softening with the people around him. Christmas time was no different and his staff were always jolly to receive a hefty bonus from him. But they didn't expect anything more.

You came up with the idea of a gala, and Maxwell couldn't help but smirk a little when you mentioned it. He knew that your suggestion was deeply rooted into the fact you had always wanted to attend a gala, wear a beautiful dress and have your hair and makeup done. More importantly, you wanted to go to a gala with Maxwell and have him by your side looking as handsome as ever. The prospect excited you so much. With Maxwell, you knew that you wanted for nothing. That he could give you anything and everything. But you would never ask. You wanted him to know that for as long as he was with you, you had everything you needed.

Normally for Maxwell, gala’s were a place for adults only. Bars that served the best alcohol and a place where men who were just as rich as him would meet and schmooze. Before you, gala’s were a fine opportunity for Maxwell to meet a lady and take her home. That's all he enjoyed them for. But you had taught Maxwell that there was more to life than wealth, women and good champagne. He was so sure you'd love the idea of turning the gala into a family friendly party, and he was certain that his employees (the likes of the cleaning staff, for example) would love the ability to bring their families to such a high class event.

"Don't worry Raquel," Maxwell smiled. "Forget about the party planning for now. I know someone who would love to organise the Christmas gala." Today was tough, but everytime he thought about you, he couldn't wipe the grin from his face. He was one lovesick puppy. "Could you bring me a coffee?"

Raquel nodded and picked the catalogue back up, padding out his office without saying another word.

At around twelve o’clock, Maxwell was about to take his lunch break- but the phone on his desk began to ring. "Maxwell Lord." he introduced himself, holding the phone to his ear. It was the CEO of Powergrid Electrics, an electrical company in Rome. Rude and unhinged, the boss man reminded Maxwell of a version of himself that he had left in the past.

Maxwell had almost sealed an amazing deal with the company, but it had seemed that the CEO hadn't received a vital part of the contract. Trying to regulate the anger that was building up inside of him, Maxwell shakily put the phone back on the hook and called his second assistant, Emmerson, into his office.

"It's impossible," Maxwell furrowed his eyebrows together in bewilderment, after explaining the situation. He scrambled amongst the papers that were stacked mountain high on his desk. "I put it in the envelope and had Raquel send it off to Rome last week. I remember… I know I didn't forget. I never forget." he said, trying to sound as composed and confident as possible. There was no mistake in the worried little warble in his voice, though.

Emmerson, Maxwell's second assistant, wasn't sure if he was going to regret his next move. "Sir," his voice was timid and small. Maxwell's eyes snapped up to meet Emmerson's and Emmerson felt his heart rate increase rapidly. Emmerson reached over Maxwell's desk, picking up a folded piece of paper with a sticky note on top that read 'For Raquel: give to Rome'. "Is it possible that this is the missing part of the contract? That maybe, you might have just, forgotten to give it to Raquel?" he said slowly, trying to beat around the bush as much as possible.

Maxwell slowly reached over to the slip of paper, unravelling it like he was scared to see what the contents would reveal. He sighed out loud when he realised he had, in fact, forgotten to give Raquel the document, and there was no one to blame but himself. He ran his fingers through his hair, contemplating what to do next. He didn't want to believe he was out of options. He wasn't one to give up, especially when it came to the sanctity of his business.

"I need you to go to Rome." He said immediately and Emmerson's jaw dropped.

"I- I'm sorry?" Emmerson quizzed, confused and still slightly afraid of how impulsive Maxwell was being. "With all due respect, can't you just call Rome and ask for an extension on the deadline?"

Maxwell scoffed. "Call Rome? I can't just call a country," Emmerson was about to interject to explain that wasn't exactly what he meant but Maxwell didn't allow it. There was something about the way Maxwell's brain worked… he didn't get where he was today from taking the advice of his assistants. "You will go to Rome and give Powergrid Electrics the remaining part of the contract yourself. I trust you."

"But sir-" Emmerson raised a shaky hand.

"Oh, I see, you're worried about accomodation," Maxwell assumed, chuckling lightly. "I'll get you a five star hotel and give you a spending allowance of three hundred euros a day, how does that sound? No need to fret. Hurry along now."

"Mr Lord," Emmerson deadpanned finally, causing Maxwell to look up at his assistant in bewilderment. Emmerson was still afraid of his boss, of course, but he knew he had to stand his ground. "I can't go to Italy."

There were a few beats of silence. "What?" Maxwell questioned. "Don't be ridiculous. It's a free trip of a lifetime. You have an easy job to do. You can spend the rest of the day souvenir shopping. I don't care. Just get the contract delivered." He ordered.

"No." Emmerson put his foot down.

"No?" Maxwell repeated, raising his eyebrows like he was due an explanation.

"Mr Lord, I didn't want to say anything because it seems… you've had a lot going on today. But my girlfriend, Katherine, she's due our baby. See, we're having a son. I'm not sure if you knew… I mean, you probably didn't know. But, I promised Katie- uh, Katherine, that I'd meet her at the hospital after my shift. I wish I could help you sir, I really do. But I love my girlfriend and I've been waiting nine months to meet our son so if you please-"

The old Maxwell Lord would've burned red with rage, firing poor Emmerson on the spot, right then and there. How dare he question Maxwell. How dare he deny Maxwell. How dare he choose his love life, his family over his job. But right now, Maxwell couldn't help the small smile creep upon his lips. He was overjoyed, just wishing Emmerson had told him of the amazing news before now.

"Congratulations," Maxwell said, his voice quiet but his eyes gleaming. "On the addition of your family. That's really great."

Emmerson stood as still as ever, blinking a few times. He waited for Maxwell to snap and finally lose it. He was waiting to get the sack. But nothing. "Uh, thank you, sir." Emmerson replied hesitantly, like he wasn't sure what to expect from Maxwell.

The following few moments of silence, Maxwell spent thinking about you. He thought about how radiant you glowed this morning and how he wished he didn't have to leave your side. You were the love of his life and quite frankly, since meeting you, he understood the priority of choosing love over wealth. He finally had someone he could hold onto during the dead of night, someone to ramble to about his feelings, someone he could kiss and love and cherish forever.

Maxwell Lord finally loved something more than his business and that was you. Emmerson coughed awkwardly, breaking the silence and Maxwell flicked his wrist up, checking the time on his gold Rolex. It was almost twelve thirty.

"Why are you still here?" Maxwell grinned, swinging his hand to point a finger towards the door. "Go! You have a son to meet!"

"Sir, I don't finish until five o’ clock." Emmerson replied, stiffening up.

"No no no! Go home, go see your girlfriend, please." Maxwell stood up and shook his assistants hand. "I have no doubt you'll be an amazing father," he said genuinely. "And I'll have Y/N send over some flowers and a donation after the birth."

"You- you're really letting me off work early?" Emmerson beamed and Maxwell nodded his head enthusiastically. "Oh how can I ever thank you?"

"I hear Maxwell is a popular choice of name for baby boys right now," the CEO charmed and Emmerson let out a small but genuine laugh. "Now go! Tell Katherine I send my love."

"I will do, thank you sir." Emmerson grinned, grabbing his jacket from the coat rack and merrily running out of the office.

Maxwell sunk into the plushness of his leather chair, still unable to escape the smile that played on his lips. He imagined the possibility of you, the love of his life, carrying his child. He thought about how beautiful you would look, how you'd glow, and how he'd simply give up everything to take care of you. Make sure you had everything you needed during your pregnancy. He imagined building the nursery with you and picking out some books on parenting, studying with you so he could ensure that he'd be the best father ever. He'd never wanted kids. In fact he hated the idea of having little mini Maxwell’s running around and causing fuss and torment, but the idea of you raising them alongside him made his heart flutter. He was certain of the unconditional love you’d have for them. Similar to the unconditional love he had for you.

His eyes darted back to the unsent report on his desk and he sighed. Guess I have to call Rome after all. He thought.

Maxwell was counting the minutes until he could go home and see you. He wanted nothing more than to curl up on the sofa with you, the fire on, and watch one of those cheesy Christmas movies you liked so much. He heard the doors to his office open, frustration racing through him as he prepared himself for the next bout of 'things going wrong'. He'd normally yell at someone if they entered his office without knocking but he was so tired. So so tired.

When he saw you, he swore his heart stopped. There you were, his blessing in disguise. His angel. You were wearing your red winter coat and knee high brown boots, and you plopped your purse and a bag on one of the many side tables in his office. You took off your gloves and pulled off your wooly bobble hat, stuffing them lazily in your pocket and offered him a happy smile. He scrambled to his feet, not taking his eyes off you for a second and ran up to you, sweeping you off your feet and spinning you around. You squealed, grabbing onto him for your life and he put you down, pulling you into a tight warm hug.

"You're freezing cold." he grimaced, pulling your hands into the pockets of his grey sweatpants in hope they'd warm up.

"It's snowing again." you whispered happily, smiling into his neck. He was delighted, having you in his arms and being able to smell the familiarity of your shampoo and perfume. He knew for sure now, he was going to be okay.

"I can see." he replied, moving one of his hands up to your face and padding out the pearly snowdrops that were balanced in your hair. "I am so glad to see you sweetheart." he hummed, sending vibrations through your body. You felt your heart blossom in your chest at his sentiment.

"I told you I was coming this morning," you giggled, eventually pulling away from him and taking your arms out of his pockets. You cupped his face and ran your fingers through his dark blonde hair, fixing it as best as you could. "I brought us lunch." you told him, fishing into the bag and bringing out boxes of pastries and cakes. "From that bakery we like."

Maxwell gasped and you looked up at him confused. "Baby, I completely forgot you were coming."

"I hate to say Max but you do look a little disheveled," you folded your arms across your chest and checked out your boyfriend's appearance. "What's with the sweats and… where is your tie and suspenders?" Your eyes met his feet on the floor and they widened almost comically. "Max! Where are your socks and shoes?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "Long story." he took your hand and pulled you over to the couch, pulling you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around him and he placed a hand on your thigh, pushing under your skirt and rubbing comforting circles into your skin.

"Tell me everything." you replied and he looked up at you with nothing but adoration in his brown eyes.

"Traffic jam on the way to work because of the snowstorm last night, and the streets were so busy with it being so close to Christmas. We couldn't get parked out front so I had to get out of the car and walk through five inches of snow to get into work. I was already late for my meeting. Soaking wet and uncomfortable," you let him ramble on, watching intently at the way his expression would change as he recalled different events in his day. You began to play with his hair, seeing that he was getting flustered at the memory of it all. "I was late for the meeting, I ended up in a whole different meeting. I didn't know the cleaners in this building even had meetings!"

"The cleaners?" you chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. "You sat in on a meeting with the cleaners?" Maxwell nodded sollemnley and you nudged him playfully. "I love that."

"Well, I didn't. They're all lovely women. But this one cleaner, Doris…" he fumbled around with his fingers. "I ended up kissing her." you pulled away quickly, knotting your eyebrows together. "No! No not like that," Maxwell said quickly, pulling you back onto his lap and wrapping his arm around you. "She's like 90, said she used to work for my father and every Christmas he'd give her a kiss. She'd start talking about how she's never had a kiss from someone as handsome as my father in years. So I gave her a polite one, on her hand. And baby, I ran. As fast as I could, I had to get outta there."

You smiled. "Max, you probably made her day. That was really sweet of you."

He brushed off your comment, taking a dramatic exhale and continuing his story. "Finally got to the meeting, spilled coffee over myself and one of my associates. But by the time I had finally settled, the meeting was over. So I went back to my office and changed out of my wet, cold, coffee stained clothes and sat down. Raquel came in. She was planning the Christmas gala but it all sounded so… corporate. Not what Christmas is about at all," he explained and you nodded in agreement. "Anyways I suggested that we change the gala this year so it's family friendly. In the spirit of Christmas."

"Oh Max!" you beamed, snuggling into his chest. He smiled to himself proudly, knowing that he had made you happy.

"You good with that?" he chuckled, running his fingers through your hair.

"Yes!" you squeaked, pushing yourself back up and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. "I have so many ideas."

"That's great honey," he laughed. "Because I told Raquel to forget about the gala. I figured you could plan it. You're great at stuff like that, and I know how much it means to you. I want the gala to be perfect for my staff and their families, and I trust you more than anyone else in the world."

"I can't wait," you smiled merrily, already weighing up the different ideas you had in your head. "Was Raquel okay with you taking the party planning duty away from her?"

"I think so," Maxwell replied. "She has a lot on her plate, being my assistant and all. It's a busy time of year and I think she'd appreciate having less to do."

"Well, it really does sound like you've had an eventful morning."

"Oh, I'm not finished," Maxwell grimaced and you braved yourself for the impending chaos. "Rome called and told me that the CEO of Powergrid Electrics only received half of the binding contract. So I was going to send Emmerson to Rome because I needed that contract in the hands of the CEO by midnight tonight. But Emmerson told me he couldn't. His girlfriend is having his baby today. A little boy. So I let him go home early."

"Emmerson's going to be a father?" you gasped and Maxwell nodded. "That's so wonderful! I should send him some flowers."

"I already told Emmerson you would." Maxwell grinned.

"Oh a baby boy too! How lovely. We have to go meet the baby when he's born. Please please please." you whined, fluttering your eyelashes.

"Okay darling." Maxwell pressed a kiss into your cheek.

You stood up and brought the bag over to the couch, taking out the little boxes and handing them to Maxwell. You opened them up and started to eat, as you told him how your morning had gone.

"After you went to work, I cleared up and did the dishes that you had left from breakfast. Max, I was soooo tired from last night," you blushed and his mouth twisted into a proud smile. "So I went back to bed and slept for another hour. Then I got up and took a bubble bath. Oh!" you scrambled around in your purse, taking out a fresh Polaroid and showed him it. It was a photograph of his white long haired cat, Lady, with bubbles balancing on her head. "She kept me company while I was in the bath." you smiled and Maxwell laughed.

"She looks so funny with the bubbles on her head." Maxwell took the Polaroid from your fingers and admired the cat. He was never particularly fond about animals, or having pets, but you loved them. In the first year of your relationship, Maxwell asked what you wanted for your birthday. As always, you told him that you didn't want anything materialistic, that he was all you needed. But you did tell him about an animal charity that you were so passionate about. He remembered leaving you at home and telling you that he was simply 'heading out'. He had planned on visiting the charity and making a donation in your name, as part of your birthday present. But he didn't leave the shelter empty handed.

A white fluffy cat with long whiskers and big blue eyes. Her eyes reminded him of sapphires. She mewled and padded towards him, her tail waving happily as she rubbed her cheek on his leg, circling around him. "Ah, she's a darling," the lady who was showing Maxwell around told him. "Unfortunately, she's been here with us longer than any of the other cats. She's not that good around people. But I must admit, she likes you a lot. In fact, I've never seen her so confident around another person before."

Maxwell dropped to his knees and tickled her head. She began purring erratically, rubbing her face along the edges of the rings on his fingers. "Nobody wants her?" Maxwell asked, not taking his eyes from the happy kitty. He picked her up, ignoring the white cat hair that malted onto his suit. She rubbed her soft face against his cheek and sniffed his cologne.

"No." the lady replied sadly. Maxwell smiled.

"I'll take her."

And that night, Maxwell came home with a new addition to the family. You were overjoyed, but no one was happier than little Lady Lord who had found her fur-ever home.

He placed the Polaroid on one of the side tables, promising you he would find a frame for it. "How was your bath darling?" he cooed, pressing his lips along your jaw.

You giggled, nuzzling your head into his shoulder. "Relaxing, lit some candles, done a little reading. After my bath I got dressed and tidied up the bedroom. I turned on the radio and they were playing Christmas songs. Oh! WHAM have just brought out a new one, it's really good. Hmm, me and Lady played for a little while and she let me brush her hair. Jeeves offered to drive me to the bakery but I really wanted to walk in the snow. Get some fresh air. And now I'm here! With you!"

It was safe to say Maxwell's morning was a lot more chaotic, but he was comforted knowing that you had been relaxed while he was going through all the antics.

"Your morning sounded amazing, darling." he kissed your forehead and you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach.

You let his lips brush over your skin, fall down to your nose, and eventually take place on your own lips as he leaned his forehead against yours. You giggled, his hair falling out of place again slightly and tickling you as he kissed you. You pulled him closer, encouraging him to deepen the kiss and laced your fingers in his hair. He pulled away to catch his breath but peppered small yet passionate kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“You’re being so affectionate,” you smiled, eyes sparkling with love.

“What can I say? I like to kiss you.” Maxwell exhorted and leaned in again, pressing another kiss into your lips. This time he swiped his tongue along the plumpness of your bottom lip, begging for entry. You pulled off him and he moaned. “Whaaat?” He pouted playfully and you rolled your eyes, earnestly laughing at how cute your boyfriend was.

“We shouldn’t do this at work,” you giggled.

“Baby we’ve done a lot worse than just kissing on this sofa, if you remember.” Maxwell charmed and you felt your cheeks heat up as you nodded slowly.

"The highlight of my day though, is being here, with you." you promised.

"Yeah," Maxwell hummed. "Me too."

"I'm proud of you." you said out of the blue, putting your sandwich down and wiping your mouth. Maxwell looked at you, confused. "You've had a bad morning. But you acted so selflessly today. Everything from signing autographs in your office to kissing that old maids hand, giving Raquel less work to do and letting Emmerson be with his girlfriend. You… you surprise me everyday Max. And I fall in love with you more and more everyday."

"I remember when we first met… I would've never dreamed of doing any of this." Maxwell admitted sheepishly.

"I know, I remember," you recalled. "I fell in love with the man you were then, but I somehow think I love you even more now."

And with that, Maxwell pulled you into a kiss. The curve of his nose nudged against yours and his hands pulled you into his lap, knocking the boxes of food onto the floor as you straddled him. "I love you so much." he announced.

Maxwell rarely said I love you's. But that was okay because you knew he loved you from his actions. You knew he loved you from the small kisses he'd give you on a morning, and the way he'd pull you into a hug every evening after work. You knew he loved you from the way he'd shelter you from paparazzi and squeeze your hand tight whenever you felt overwhelmed. Actions spoke louder than words. But coming from Maxwell Lord, hearing those three words struck you like a bolt of lightning. They were just words, but they meant everything to you.

He meant everything to you.

Permanent taglist~let me know if you want to be added: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first

#max lord x reader #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lord x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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poisonous-widow · 3 years

Text

One Step Forward, Three Steps Back

A/n: Hello everyone! I am back!

So ya'll remember my last bnha angst called 'Good Enough?'. Well I've re-made it to this beaut right here! I'm hoping this will be a short Fan fiction probably 10 chaps be the max (Hopefully) or even lower is possible \(0w0)/. They won't be adults in this one, still in UA and yes - the angst will be there. My Oc will be the main of this, but Y/n is apart, yes that's right - you guys are in this (Don't worry! You aren't the bad guy.......maybe).

I've also made this because I fell in love with Olivia Rodrigo's songs, the ones that I can relate to especially. And for this as well. I hope you enjoy this and tell me what you think in the end.

- Love you guys!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warnings: Cheating, Angst, Crying, fluffy fluff fluff!!

Additional info: Music videos/audios may be involved (Not in this one)

Main Characters: Katsuki Bakugou, Amicia Mizuki

Ages: 17-18yrs (Depending on other characters as well and their year)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER ONE - I still love you

~~~~~~~~~~~

We shared many memories. Love...

She’s been humming tunes in her dorm for the past thirty minutes. Cooped up in the corner of her bed, messy blankets, plushies and four pair of legs tangled together. Amicia cackles lightly, long thick lashes kiss her cheeks, lifting her novel she was currently reading - grazing her light forest green hues to her spiky blonde love. Katsuki releases a long deep breath, his head snugged into the thick comfy padding of his girlfriends thighs, rubbing his head further into her when he felt her cackles.

"What are you laughing at..." He grumbled out, a little muffled since he's laying on his side. Squishing his other face cheek.

Amicia giggled. It sounded so calm to his ears, soothing.

"Nothing~" Amicia mused, a smile playing at her lips as she moved her book to one hand, bringing the other down to caress his tuffs of hair. She gently scratched at his scalp with her nails, caressing in long strokes. She heard another long breath release out of him, the weight of katsuki falling onto her thighs.

There was a shift of movement and Amicia moved her hand, allowing Katsuki to roll himself on his back, eye-lids opening to those crimson daring eyes. "Don't lie to me shitty woman..". Amicia pouted, poking his nose in response. "Don't call me that".

"But you are a shitty woman" He smirked, seeing small fumes appear.

"You’re a shitty man then!" Amicia crossed her arms, looking down at her love with pouting lips and a frown that he would never admit was too fucking cute. He rolled again, this time on his stomach. Arms latched themselves around Amicia's waist, causing her to get a small shock. Katsuki looked up at her, crimson meeting green - summer rays swirling the gold speckles secretly hidden within the glimmering emerald.

Katsuki buried himself into her abdomen, kissing her stomach making Amicia yelp. "Katsuki..!" She squeaked in alarm, her hand touching his head with a tenderness he drowned himself in every moment they got like this. He looked up only to quickly kiss her again, grumpily groaning when she tried to push him away - only for the heavy male to halfway lay himself across her soft pudgy body. "What are you.." Amicia rubs his head, confused.

'You are my shitty woman, mine only." He groaned muffly. This made Amicia stop what she was going to do next. That small spark of shock - forming into love. "I love you too Katsuki" She smiled and hugged his laying body lovingly.

It's a cool night outside, but the room felt oddly hot. Warm candle-light fluttered against the tan wallpaper of katsuki's dorm room that scattered around the large shared futon splayed on the ground.

...Want...

Katsuki sat on the futon, arms wrapped around Amicia's waist. She was on top of him, her knees locked on either side as she slightly hoisted herself a bit taller. Their eyes closed in the moment and lips mounding into bliss, Amicia held katsuki's face as he securely held her in his arms. Parting away to breathe, eyes locking together in a mixture of colours and emotions only they seemed to understand without the need of words.

She peppered and nuzzled his face with tenderness, He kissed her neck and bare shoulder with fierceness. Sighs and contentment settled into her as katsuki removed more of her button shirt to nip at the flesh of her neck.

“Hey..!” She jerked away, opening her eyes and looking over to her shoulder where she could see the way his tongue slid across his row of teeth with that heavy smirk. Amicia shook her head, a smirk of her own appearing when she tugged the back roots of his ash-blonde hair into a small fist, causing a low grunt hiss to snake out of his mouth. “You little sh-” “Don’t ruin the mood my love~” She kissed a finger to his mouth - angered eyes - turning hooded and heavy.

Katsuki rolled to the side, toppling over Amicia where she laid on her back, he on top this time.”I hate you...” , She giggled at his words, sighed when he kissed her neck and further down a of his warmth. “I hate you so much, you do this to me...” He breathed against her warm honey skin.

“I love you too...” She smiles with closed crescent eyes.

The moment stops when his phone-screen turns on. A message, unknown. Who is it from. She goes to read....he pushes her away and takes the phone - but she had seen the name.

“Get out. GET THE HELL OUT NOW!!” He shoves her out.

...Hate....

A glass jar went flying across the kitchen of their shared apartment...

It smashes. There’s more screaming. Words flying at each other, next thing there is something more than verbal - physical.

It’s cold again.

Katsuki thrusts an explosion attack towards Amicia. It’s aggressive and filled with tendency to hurt - a lot. She dodges it, barely. She’s scared but she still fights for her ground. She refuses to cry and be weak to him. “YOU LIAR!! YOU FUCKING LIAR!!” She reaches him, punches him square in the nose. “YOU SAID SHE WAS JUST A FRIEND!” She wailed, her throat hurts. her head is throbbing.

“I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! DOES IT MEAN NOTHING TO YOU!?” Amicia clenched where her heart was buried underneath all that flesh, muscle and bone. Tears flooding down like two large blobs of streams.

“I HATE YOU!! I FUCKING HATE YOU AMICIA MIZUKI!!”

Blood and water stains the floor-boards.

“If you hate me that much...Then we are over”

...Betrayal...

She’s cold again.

She felt exposed - naked - even.

Mina hugged her side, the warmth radiating off her pink skin made the honey toned woman comfortable - just a bit - she smiled appreciatively. She was the first to know and your sister Y/n. The other girls who cared enough to visit her dorm in the time of need she really needed them. Then came the boys: Kaminari,sero and deku squad knew first. Then kirishima, he was last because Amicia knew that kirishima was Ka-Bakugou’s best-friend. He hugged her, she cried.

It’s only been a few days since the break-up. She left their shared apartment and lived with her best-friend. However, the news spread like wild-fire throughout UA - nosy bunches they all are. Amicia hugged her arms as she walked through the long hallways, eyes staring and mouths whispering.

For the next few days, they all tried to cheer her up:

“Let’s do this, get your mind off things!”

“You’ll feel better without him, promise”

“Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaa! Leeeet’s gooo steeal Mr. Aizawaa’s Beean-Baaag~!”

“Cm’on gurl! Sing for me, i miss that voice of yours”

“Mizuki-chan...mutter mutter...and then...mutter mutter”

It was hard. At first. But she managed to smile at least, her heart feeling lighter little by little each day. Amicia could run and chase her friends again. Laugh, cry, cheer, scream. But everyone now and then, she would look over her shoulder to spot any ash-blonde spikes in the distance - none - heart throbbing. She still misses him, the break of a heart still cracking in her chest.

...And the most painful...

Two weeks passed and Amicia feels a little more ‘normal’. Her head is held high, a smile on her face and her walk strides in a soft rhythm. She softens to a stop, green jewels wide as she stares ahead.

Spiky ash-blonde hair in the distance, baggy clothing and that oh-so-knowing posture spewing ‘dominance’. Crimson eyes, a cold and bored gaze.

Her heart thumps in her chest, her feels for him pulsing at the sight of him. They stare at each other for a long moment. Colours mixing again - like before. She snaps out of when she sees a bob of brown hair, pink chubby cheeks and beautiful big chocolate brown eyes comes closer.

Katsuki Bakugou.

Uraraka Ochako, Bakugou’s new girlfriend.

She stops just a few steps behind him, waiting for him to go to her. Bakugou still has his eyes on Amicia. There is a look in her eyes that bakugou can’t seem to read. Same to Amicia. She goes to open her mouth to speak but she purses them and closes her eyelids shut. Sucking in a shaky breath, Amicia straightens her back and lifts her chin, fingers splayed across her heart. She opens her eyes again.

She smiles, lovingly, softly. It scares Bakugou - just a little - only a little. She mouths something. He turns and leaves with his new girl, through the doors of UA and out of sight. She watched them go - him - go. Her hand drops to her side. Her lip is quivering. She purses it when she hears Y/n call her from behind.

“Hey! You good lil’ sis?” They look at you, leaning beside you.

Amicia turns her head, glistening emerald eyes sparkling with sun rays.

“Yes. Let’s get to class before Mr. Aizawa gives us a detention”

...Acceptance...

" I still love you "

- Amicia Mizuki

______________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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junquisite · 3 years

Text

Escapades

WORD COUNT : 2.1K

WARNING : Suggestive

GENRE : Con Artist AU

She was staring at the mirror, trying to tie her hair up in a decent style when a pair of hands creeped from behind around her waist and she felt lips brushing on her bare neck.

“This dress is too showy. I don't want him to touch you in this.” Seungwoo mumbled in her neck and she smiled at his reflection.

“Just one more day.” she whispered as his grip tightened on her waist and slid down slowly, lower with each passing second. She felt the brush of lips turning to kisses and she sighed.

“You can't leave a mark Seungwoo. We can't ruin everything today at this point.” Byul whispered and Seungwoo groaned but unwillingly pulled away. He stared at her back as she dressed up, saw her putting on the heavy necklace that old man gifted her and imagined the different ways he can have his way with her with her only wearing that necklace.

“What are you thinking of? Get your mind out of the gutter.” she said with a small smile playing on her lips which Seugnwoo returned slowly.

“How do you know what i was thinking of?” he asked as he went down on his knees to help her wear the new pair of heels she got with the expensive designer dress she was wearing, by none other than that old man who’ll have his hands around her soon. He decided he’ll make her keep the heels on too with the necklace.

“You just get this look on your face, I can tell it from far away.” Byul said as his hands slowly raised away from her ankle to her knees.

“You said no where where he can see right?” Seungwoo mumbled with his lips pressed against her thighs visible from the high slit of the dress till her mid thighs, his hands slowly creeping up and under the dress, dangerously close to where she wanted him badly.

“We need to go down.” she whispered and then gasped, her hand coming up to her lips to not let the sound pass as she felt him bite at her inner thighs. She heard him chuckle and looked down to see him peeking from in between her dress and whined as he went back in and she felt his lips trailed the inside of her thighs.

There was a knock on the door which made her curse as she quickly looked at it and breathed a sigh of relief when saw it locked from the inside.

“Who is it?”

“Miss. Kim, Mr. Kang is expecting you down.” Byul heard from outside and heard Seungwoo curse softly as he separated himself from her.

“I’ll be down in 10 minutes.” she responded and heard the servant scurry off.

She turned to see Seungwoo wearing his tie and went to straighten it as he smiled down at her.

“Ready to go Miss. Kim Jisoo?” Seugnwoo asked Byul and she smiled.

“I am. Are you ready Mr. Im Jongin?” she asked and he nodded as he gave her his hand and she grabbed it, a soft smile gracing her lips as they left the room and separated their hands - him taking his place behind her.

“Aaah there she is, the bride of the hour!” a lady almost shouted as Byul reached the main party area and she smiled as she approached the lady standing with her to-be husband, Seungwoo a close step behind her.

“Jisoo-ah, you need to wear this all the time now.” the man she was supposed to marry said as she smiled and took the ring box and put on the 6 carat diamond ring as the lady beside her gasped.

“That's an impressionable diamond I must say.” she said and Byul smiled, she could practically hear the envy in her voice.

“Mr. Kang was nice enough to buy the ring my heart was set on.” she said as she felt the man slip his arm around her and felt Seungwoo stiffen behind her.

“And who's that if i may ask?” the lady asked Pointing at Seungwoo and Byul heard the old man beside her scoff.

“He’s the kind caretaker of my Jisoo here. He’s Jongin, a caretaker and a brotherly figure for Jisoo sent by her family.” he said and Byul smiled.

“Your family must be rich enough to have a caretaker for you?” the lady asked and Byul waved her hand. “It’s just something they thought i must always have - some sort of protection.” and pulled herself away from the old man and bowed at them.

“I’ll be taking my leave for now.” and went away, Seongwoo following her behind.

“Caretaker. I’ll never get used to it.” he mumbled as she strayed to a corner with a non-alcoholic drink in her hand, him behind her like a shadow as she surveyed the room.

“It's perfect. You can always stay with me.” she whispered as she saw one of the servers coming to her with an empty tray and bow at Seungwoo who carefully passed an envelope full of money to him.

They saw as he disappeared in the kitchen and came back with a tray full of drinks and started serving them, the drinks blood red and tempting.

“Aaah I think he have had one too many drinks.” one of the ladies chimed, equally red faced as the one beside her - barely able to stay straight on their feet but sober enough to comment about others. Typical rich people behaviour Byul thought as she tried to stop her to-be husband’s wandering hands - t Least in front of the wicked ladies.

“I think it’ll be best if i take him to bed.” Byul said but one of the ladies grabbed his hand.

“Let your caretaker take him, have one more drink with us dear Jisoo!” the lady said and Byul threw Seungwoo a helpless look who just smiled at her but she could sense the smirk under it.

“Take care of him Jongin-ssi!” one of the younger ladies said and Byul refrained herself from openly glaring at her - her looks were not decent, she was practically undressing Seungwoo with her eyes.

1 hour and only one drink for herself later, Byul managed to send all the guests away. The servants were given a night off to cool off before the stress of the wedding starts from the next day and they were finally home alone - her, Seugnwoo and the old 40-something man she was supposed to marry.

Detective Park rang the bell of the huge house and wondered if calling it a mansion would be better as the door opened to reveal a clearly tired servant and went inside to see the mood getting gloomier with every step.

A 40-something man - Kang Harin, CEO of a small but flourishing fishery business in the particular area, was throwing a child-like tantrum in his expensive looking but bare living room.

“That bitch took everything! She left nothing! She even took my designer suits!” The last line would have made the detective laugh if he didn't know that one of those suits was probably more then his monthly paycheck.

“Mr. Kang, I'm Detective Park, if you can just list all the items missing? You can add more stuff later but off the top of your head, what all is missing?”

The detective would have been dumb to ask what hapepend. He knew what happened. It was not the first time something like this took place - he has been monitoring other similar incidents that happened in other small parts of south korea in the past 7 years.

A couple - one of them would woo a rich person, the other some sort of person taking an important role - enough to be let around all the time but not important enough to be shifted the focus on to. And then before the marriage they'll disappear - with everything the person owned that was worth anything. The material would be later found out at different pawn shops stating they never took any stuff to be caught but only took the money.

An on duty officer came to him and handed him a list and he went through it - the list of articles stolen as of now. It had everything on it- from the jewellery to cash from the locker, cash from the hidden locker, gold from the office, electronics like mobiles and even the computer from the office, TV set and some of the small kitchen equipments, a couple of suits from the man’s closet, all of the designer bags and heels, all the jewellery he ever brought her and all the jewellery he owned (chains and rings) and even a few of expensive vases and art pieces that hanged on the wall. They left nothing!

“And there are no pictures left?” the detective asked the officer.

“We even questioned the visitors from yesterday's parties. No one had any pictures and one girl claimed to have clicked some but she said her phone stopped working in the morning suddenly. Some virus. Traces of the same virus were found in the security camera monitors of here and near this house and in the computer left with the message.” the officer said and detective Park raised an eyebrow, a message was new.

He went to the said laptop, apparently it won’t work but stuck on the screen it was showing. A picture of a Napkin with a kiss stain at the corner saying, It was fun but this was last. See you never!

He wondered vaguely if it was a message for him rather than the old man since he was the leader of a team made specifically to work on their case. Then he wondered if this was actually true and their last crime.

“So we again have nothing?” he asked the detective who had followed him.

“The man claims that they looked exactly like the sketches we have from the cases before just different hair? And roles too apparently. She was a lady of an old family and he was her caretaker. Names were Kim Jisoo and Im Jongin.” and Park sighed.

“Let's get going then. There's nothing more for us here.”

A week later

“Can I see your passport miss?” the airhostess at the entryway asked and Byul passed hers. Kang Daeum, it read.

“And yours sir?” Seungwoo passed his passport, the name reading Jung Jihoon.

“Have a safe flight ma’am, sir.” the hostess said and bowed down and they bowed back.

The clicks of her high designer heels were loud in the silent hallway to board the plane.

“Can't believe you kept those heels.” Seungwoo muttered from beside her as she smiled at him.

“You first decided at the pawnshop that you wanted to keep the necklace.” she said, her eyes no doubt holding the teasing that Seungwoo knew was bound to come behind her sunglasses. But he would never accept he was jealous.

“I like it though. You can keep on the heels too with the necklace whenever we get to the hotel.” he said, smirking as she lowered her sunglasses to stare at him, “Only those things on you though.” he ended, her hand shooting up to hit him on the chest, ready to yell if not for being at a public place as he chuckled.

After showing their boarding pass and settling down in the first class seats, he turned to her when she sighed, sliding down slightly in the comfortable chairs.

“Maybe you should consider dying your hair, I like this on you.” he said as he tugged at the blond wig she had on and she shrugged.

“Why not. We’re going to Bali, might as well look tropical.” she said and he laughed.

“Why not pink then?” he suggested and she smirked at him. “Only if you do blue.” and he smiled.

“Deal.”

It was late, night Seungwoo assumed since it was dark but who knows where they exactly were. All he knew was there was a vast expanse of water underneath the plane and the flight still had more than 7 hours left.

He saw on the side Byul shutting down her laptop.

“Are you tired?” he asked and she blinked at him taking out her headphones and shrugging.

“I can use some sleep.”

“I have other plans.” Seungwoo said as his hands sneaked underneath the blanket she had on her lap, squeezing her thighs as she looked at him, surprised.

“How do you feel about joining Miles high club?”

The smile that adorned her lips said she was in, and when she got up leaving the blanket behind, asking the air hostess where the restrooms were and winking at him before leaving, Seungwoo knew he had hit the jackpot with her.

Bali would be amazing, he whispered as he got up himself.

#victonwriters #victon smut #seungwoo smut #x1 smut #victon seungwoo #han seungwoo #victon scenarios #victon scenario #seungwoo scenarios #han seungwoo smut

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collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

Nightmare - John B Routledge

Request: okay hear me out... i it would be super cute if u wrote a fic where john b has a really bad nightmare about the reader disappearing like his dad and waking up terrified next to the reader and she has to help him! it’s totally okay if u can’t, i know you’re probably super swamped right now

A/N: Some sweet JB.

Outer Banks Masterlist

///

“Fuck!” John B lurched forward in bed pressing his forehead to his knees and shutting his eyes as tight as he could. His heart was racing and he was covered in sweat. Ever since he’d come back from surfing the surge he’d been having nightmares about his dad’s boat. Pope suggested it had something to do with seeing Scooter’s Grady White out there, that maybe it had triggered something in him.

But the nightmares were worse now then they had been before. After Big John first disappeared John B was consumed with nightmares, he’d wake in cold sweats, alone, stumbling through his house in some attempt to find his dad but it was only him. Even then though, the dreams felt hazy, like he was looking at them underwater. These new nightmares felt real. One second he’d be drifting off to sleep and the next he’d be hyperventilating, at the peak of a panic attack as he opened his eyes from the most vicious of images. The Pogue or his dad’s boat or even the Grady White lately, going under. Flipping in a harsh storm with you on board. He would watch, helpless, as the boat capsized and you were thrown into the water, screaming his name against the thundering storm. Sometimes you were carried away from him by the waves and no matter how hard he swam he could never find you. Sometimes your life vest wasn’t on and he watched in horror as you tried and failed to tread water.

He scrubbed at his eyes, irritating them further, as he tried to regain his breath. He was in his room; he knew he was in his room. He felt a hand on his bare back and jumped, flinching away from the feeling. You turned on the bedside light and then sat up on your knees, climbing toward him and touching his back again. “John B?”

John B shook his head, he looked pale, as if all the color had drained from him. You wrapped your arms around him, guiding both of you back against the headboard, letting him lay with his head on your shoulder. He was shaking just the slightest as you kissed his head and gently shushed him, whispering over and over that it was alright.

He hadn’t told you about the nightmares but this wasn’t the first time he had woken up like this beside you. He kept his arms around your waist and, as he pressed his face into your neck you could feel the tears in his eyes.

“I’m right here,” you whispered, running a hand through his hair. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“The boat and...you just...were gone.” John B muttered; gasping breathes in between words as he tried to put his thoughts together.

“I’m right here,” you repeated, hugging him to you tighter, “I’m not going anywhere John B.”

“I can’t keep doing this,” he finally said as he became to regain himself. He didn’t make any move to sit up but his voice was coming back to him. “I can’t keep putting you in danger. If something happened to you-”

It was too awful to think about. John B had felt so alone after his dad went missing. Even with JJ and Kiara and Pope he still felt like there was this piece of his life missing. Like someone was supposed to be there and they weren’t. Getting involved with you had been the one thing that he needed the most and maybe he relied too much on you too often but he couldn’t help it. You’d brought back the good parts of him and the thought of losing you the way he lost Big John was too much.

“Hey, you’re not putting me in danger JB...if I didn’t believe in this, if I didn’t think that what we were doing was right and important than I wouldn’t do it. I would have bagged out a long time ago. If you say there is gold and Big John left you clues to find it than there’s gold and we’ll follow those clues to find it. End of.” You promised, “I trust you.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” John B said, “I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt.”

“You never could be.” You said, kissing his head again, “don’t get in your head like this, okay?”

“It just felt so real. I mean, I watched you go under and there was nothing I could do.”

“It’s a good thing I’m such a good swimmer than huh?” You teased in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“I just...”

“We’ll talk about it in the morning, okay?” You asked, “tonight, let’s get back to sleep. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

John B nodded, letting you maneuver your body and his so that you could lay down comfortably while keeping him in your arms. You continued to rub his back as he drifted back into sleep, whispering to him that you were here and safe and you always would be.

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife @freckled-and-daydreaming @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @howdyherron @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @tragicmisfits @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @ssprayberrythings @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @jjsthumbring @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @pogue-h

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colehasapen · 3 years

Text

(CHAPTER 1) ba’jurir STAR WARS

A03

If there was one thing that Cody had to choose that shocked him the most about bounty hunting, he would have to say it was the speed in which information spreads. As Kote Cerasi, one half of a mysterious bounty hunting pair, he’s become somewhat of a rising star among the Guild. As ruthless and efficient at his new occupation as he was as Marshal Commander of the Third System Army, his new position as one of the best in the Guild comes with a slew of priceless intelligence that he passes on to Organa and his budding Rebellion. He’s made a name for himself, and his code is already as synonymous with this rise in fame as his beskar’gam is; his preferred hunt is demogolke, those who dare lay a hand on children, and for those who had managed to catch a glimpse of the infants he and his partner toasted around at times, it wouldn’t have come as much of a surprise.

It’s his reputation that lets him hear the news first.

“Hey, Cerasi!” Cody barely tilts his helmet away from the bounty board as Karga approaches, a sly smile on his face. He’s considering a bounty on Bracca when he calls out for him, of a scrapper that had gotten too handsy with some well-off natborn’s daughter, so the other hunter doesn’t really hold his attention, even if he keeps himself aware of the man’s movements and location.

Karga’s useful for information gathering, but not much else in Cody’s opinion, though he had been slated for the position of a Contract out in the Outer Rim should a spot open up. Obi-Wan had decided that it would be beneficial for them to stay on his good side, to have their own in with the man for intelligence, but Cody didn’t trust the man as far as a cadet could throw him.

“Karga.” He greets with a gruff grunt, and the man watches him with greedy, intelligent eyes. “What can I do for you?”

Karga’s smirk widens, and he slides into the booth across from him, “Oh no. The question, my friend, is what can I do for you?”

Cody’s head tilts more, a sign of his attention, “A job then?”

“Something of the sorts.” Karga equivocates, and from under his buy’ce, Cody shoots the man a look that had once made his men fear the training coming their way if they didn’t get to the point immediately.

It had never worked on his riduur though, because Obi-Wan was an unrepentant chaotic bastard when he got into the mood, but enough of the gist of it gets through the visor to make Karga squirm. Though it could just be the gold-on-black jaig eyes staring him down.

“You’ve made a name for yourself, Mando.” Karga says, “And I know talent when I see it; you could be the best.” Cody hums non-committedly, tilting his head pointedly. He’s been the best before, but now he’s only interested in keeping his small family safe. “A little birdy told me that Bane’s been dethroned, and his successor is easy pickings.” Karga leans in close, voice hushing, “And I’d throw my weight behind you.”

“Oh?” Cody probes, uninterested, but it’s what the other bounty hunter wants to hear.

“It’s Boba Fett.”

Cody’s grip tightens on the datapad he holds, breath punching out of him and feeling like he had been gut shot. Boba, his brother, Jango’s only son while the rest of them were products and tools. Boba who had been proof that Jango could be a good father, a good person, that he could have loved them but chose not to.

Boba who was innocent of the blame for how they were treated, and who used to sneak into training with the CCs when they had all been the same size. Boba who had once traded spots with Cody, back when they were identical, who had once let Cody have a taste of his life, of a life being something other than a mindless copy. Boba who had seen his father killed in combat and fell into the wrong sort of crowd.

Boba who had helped kill Ponds. Boba who hadn’t been able to pull the trigger.

Manda - he was still a child, out there alone and picking fights with the likes of Cad Bane. He was still a brother, a free brother without family on his side.

Cody lowers the datapad slowly, his attention on the bounty hunter, and when he speaks, his voice is gravelly. “How much for a head start?”

He finds Boba on Vanqor, hidden away in a small apartment and nursing his wounds. He’d left Obi-Wan and the ik’aade on the Jate’kara, docked in the hangar, and sent Threepio, Artoo, and Arfour to collect the supplies they’d need to look after a teenager while he hunts his brother down.

He finds Boba bedridden and feverish, surrounded by the smell of sick, and as weak as a Tooka kitten. The owner of the building, an elderly Rodian, hovers worriedly behind him; she had been trying to care for him, Cody knows, but didn’t know much about medical care for Humans, hadn’t had the money for the proper bacta for a Human either. She’d been glad that family had shown up to get him the help he needed.

“Thank you.” He mutters to the Rodian, passing her a pouch of credits, before stepping further into the room. He doesn’t need to turn to know the woman had given them privacy.

Cody grimaces with disgust as he pulls his buy’ce off, staring at the child absolutely swimming in ratty clothes too big for his body, and the pile of damaged beskar’gam piled in the corner. Boba’s pupils are dilated, his face so pale it’s unhealthy and gray, and limp curls are matted to his forehead with a mixture of sweat and puss, originating from the infected wound on his temple that the Rodian woman had tried to wrap.

The whole room stinks, and Cody wonders just how long his vod had been bedridden.

“Boba.” He calls, forcing delirious eyes to meet his own, and Cody winces at the heat rolling off of his skin, hot enough to feel even through his gloves when he places a hand on the teenager’s sunken cheek.

The kid blinks at him slowly, confused. “Buir?” Boba warbles thickly, tears rising in his eyes, and Cody isn’t going to touch that with a ten foot pole. Instead, he turns his eyes to the crusty gauze wrapped around his head, gently peeling it away, and immediately hisses in sympathy. The bone had caved in slightly, the skin around it burnt, and at some point, the skin had been split open, ragged and painfully swollen, allowing old pus to crust over it.

“Dank ferrick, Boba, what did you do to yourself?” Cody hisses - he hadn’t brought the supplies he’d need to deal with this here. He’d have to carry Boba back to the ship. He curses again, replacing his buy’ce to bundle the boy up with his dirty sheets, noting absently that he’d have to burn everything Boba is wearing once he’d gotten him cleaned up, but for now, it’s not safe to leave Boba where he is and in this state. Karga wouldn’t be giving him much of a head start, and soon there would be bounty hunters out for his brother’s blood, looking to gain the fame of killing the one to defeat Cad Bane.

Boba leans into the touch when Cody lifts him, curling into his chest with a watery hiccup, the heat of his skin scalding through his kute. “I missed you Buir.” He rasps, head dropping against Cody’s shoulder. The kid is too light, too small, and Cody curses the Galaxy that had turned the happy boy he remembers from Kamino into this.

He had no lost love for Jango, no fond feelings for him, but Cody wishes he hadn’t made the choices he had, that had led to his death and to Boba being left alone in the Galaxy. He wishes Jango hadn’t died, if only for Boba.

He has a long road to recovery before him, but Cody would help him, would take care of him, because Boba is family.

Cody has very little family left.

Taglist: @a-mediocre-succulent @yellowisharo @spoofymcgee @roseofalderaan @everything-or-anything @bellablue42 @tumceteri-fratres @etainskirata @arkainea @phoenix1760

#cole writes #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #codywan #bounty hunter cody #boba fett #TBMOMAJ verse #in which obi wan and cody adopt children and fight fascist #bounty hunter obi wan kenobi #star wars #Post Order 66

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

Text

COSMIC - S3:E1; Chapter One, Suzie, Do You Copy? - [Pt. 4]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

Summer brings new jobs and budding romance. But the mood shifts when Dustin’s radio picks up a Russian broadcast, and Will senses something is wrong.

Warnings: Hopper being a c*p 🤢 [ACAB BABEY], mentions of animal death, very brief mentions of anxiety

**Y/H = your height, ex; short, tall etc H/C = hair color**

||𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"Alrighty. One scoop of chocolate, that'll be buck twenty five."

Steve places the cone in the girl's hands, smirking to himself when her hands meet his. With a shy yet charming grin he mumbles a soft 'there you go' and suddenly her hand is no longer touching his. The brief physical contact didn't seem to mean quite what it meant to him, as she looked rather eager to get back to her day at the mall. But Steve still saw a fighting chance when he spotted the gold letters displayed across her sweatshirt.

"Ah, Perdue." His eyes light up in recognition, and he sends her a silly smile. "Fancy."

She smiles brightly and Steve's spirits lift. She nods, handing over the money and readjusts her purse. "Yeah. I'm excited."

"Ah, you know I considered it." Steve nods, fingers flying across the register. "Perdue, but then I was like, you know what?"

A light air of resolve falls over him and the across the counter begin to shift as uncomfortable smiles flit across their faces. The second even trying to wipe the amused expression off of her face at Steve's obvious attempts at her friend. A knowing look is then passed on between the pair as Steve continues, seemingly unaffected.

"I really think I need some real life experience, ya know, before I hit college. See what it feels like to, kinda uh, like, I don't know," He shrugs with a charming smile that doesn't quite reach the girls who now boredly lick at their melting ice cream cones. "See what it's like to earn a working man's wage, you know and uh-"

The register he fiddles with decides his time is up, its circuits shorting out as they did every few weeks and stuck itself into one endless high pitched beep that cuts him off. Flustered, Steve attempts to save the conversation not before subduing the intrusive noise, as he mutters a quick apology.

"-I think that's really important, and uh,"

"Yeah, totally," She responds, choking back a pathetic laugh.

Rolling with the punches, Steve shrugs goofily still wearing his best smile.

"Yeah, anyways, this was like, so fun," he laughs, the nerves now overtaking him. "We should, like, I don't know, maybe hangout? Like this weekend or something-?"

Yet again, he is cut off as the change he intends to give her spill out of his hands and onto the counter.

"Oh, sorry about that," he fumbles as she begins collecting the scattered coins off the counter. "Uh, I don't know, maybe next weekend?"

"Uh, I'm busy." She laughs uncomfortably as she tucks the coins away into her purse.

"Oh, that's cool. And I'm-" Steve nods, scratching his head. "I'm working here next weekend so... the following weekend is probably better for me."

"Uh, no. I'm sorry, I can't."

Her friend begins to laugh into her ice cream and even she is biting back a smile as she hurriedly collects herself to leave and Steve nods.

"Okay," The girls chuckle to themselves as they make their leave for the door. "Thanks."

"I..." Steve stumbles, his voice awkwardly trailing off as they do. "This is my first day here, so..."

But they were already filing back out into the crowds, giggling between each other at his poor attempts. Not that he could blame them.

"And another one bites the dust."

He sighs heavily, head sagging over his shoulders before swiveling around to face the girl carrying a mischievous glint in her eye and that damned scoreboard. Scrawled across the top of the divided two sections; YOU SCORE, which remained completely blank, and YOU SUCK which carried a total of five--

"You are oh for," --now six. "six, Popeye."

Steve nods bitterly with his arms folded over his chest. "Yeah, yeah, I can count." He sighs.

"You know that means you suck."

Against all odds - and the bitter taste of annoyance on his tongue - Steve still finds a smile creeping up on his face, however forced.

"Yep, I can read, too."

The spark of mischief in her eyes is fueled like a small flame, and a cocky smile twists her lips. "Since when?"

"It's the stupid hat." Steve groans, ignoring her comment and saunters over to lean against the back counter. "I am telling you, it is totally blowing my best feature."

Robin tucks away the menu-turned-score board back against the wall before folding her arms on the counter, draping herself lazily in the back window.

"Yeah, company policy is a real drag." She drawls. "You know, it's a crazy idea but have you considered... telling the truth?"

"Oh, you mean, that I couldn't even get into Tech and my douchebag dad's trying to teach me a lesson, I make three bucks an hour and I have no future? That truth?"

Robin's eyes drift past his shoulder and she quickly gestures. "Hey, twelve o'clock."

Steve's head whips over his shoulder to find a small parade of girls striding towards the counter, reigniting the nerves in his gut. "Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Okay... Uh..."

He turns back to Robin, his eyes darting across the counter as his mind races. Robin can practically hear the silent pep talk he's giving himself.

"I'm going in. Okay?" He says, more to himself than her. He nearly whips around to face them had it not been for the sudden hesitation brought on by a burst of confidence. "And you know what?"

He rips the tacky sailor's hat off his head pulling a curl loose that dangled on his forehead as he smirks. "Screw company policy."

Less than impressed, Robin doesn't even attempt to hide her boredom. "Oh, my god, you're a whole new man." She deadpans.

"Right?" He shakes his head around on his shoulders in a goofy manner as he backs away, drawing out a weak chuckle from the girl.

In one step he whirls himself around to face the small posse of girls at a frightening speed, even startling several gasps out of them.

"Ahoy ladies! Didn't see you there," he shouts, propping himself up on the counter with his arms. Several girls in the group watch him wide eyed and still a bit off put. "Would you guys like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I'll be your captain. I'm Steve Harrington."

"Oh, god." The red head mutters to herself, exasperated as her friends begin to giggle.

"Can I get you guys a little taste of Cherries Jubilee? No? Anybody? Banana Boat? Four people, four spoons?"

Robin watches from the back room as the fire spreads, a wince overtaking her face as she steps back to her board, uncapping her pen as his boisterous voice echoes throughout the ice cream parlor.

"Sharing a booth? Anybody? It's hot out there."

Make that oh-for-seven.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"And I know this is a difficult conversation to have..."

Hopper's unsteady voice travels at a slow pace as he digests the words on the scrap of paper in his hands. His face is contorted in an uncomfortable grimace as he hears them leave his mouth but he tries to persist.

"but I hope you know that I care about you very much. And I know that you-"

"Eye contact-" Joyce softly reminds, from where sits opposite, her legs dangling off the empty pharmacy counter.

There's a brief lull in the station between songs before a familiar melody spills from the wire speakers in the corner of the store, Patsy Cline's She’s Got You. It's quiet and hard to hear but the lyrics still seep into Hopper's subconscious, briefly aiding his nerves in throwing his attention off course as he meets Joyce's deep brown eyes.

"And I know that... we both care about each other very much." Immediately he rejects the words coming off his tongue and shakes his head at her choice of words. "This does not sound like me at all."

"Just keep going. Come on." She reassures.

Hopper draws in a deep breath, clutching the makeshift script between his balled fists that were tucked nervously in between his knees. "Which is why I think it's important to establish these boundaries..."

He squints, straining against his anxieties to remember the words she had helped him brainstorm. "moving forward..."

he sneaks a peak at the crumpled up paper in his hands, earning a soft chiding from Joyce who shakes her head.

"No looking. You know this. Come on."

Another deep inhale brings an uneasy look on Hopper's face as he shakes his head, tucking away the paper back in between his knees.

"so we can build an environment... uh... where we..."

Joyce silently watches with a series of encouraging nods, her hands gently waving like that of an orchestra conductor.

"all feel comfortable and trusted and open..."

Joyce nods once more, a light in her eyes as that silently encourages him. That puts him at ease. "'Share our feelings'..."

"...to sharing our feelings-- This isn't gonna work." He shakes his head, giving into the discomfort building all around him and he rises to his feet. "Um, it's not gonna work. It's not gonna work."

"Yes, it will!" She scolds. "I promise."

He shakes his head as he expels another patch of nerves, and joins her on the counter.

"Oh, come on." She pleads softly.

"Maybe I'll just kill Mike," he grunts sarcastically. "I'm the chief of police, I can cover it up." [👁👄👁]

Joyce gives his knuckles a reassuring pat before she sends him another encouraging smile. Even as he leans against the counter that she is currently hoisted onto, he still manages to tower over her.

"You got this." She gives another reassuring squeeze, and Hopper feels like a cheesy bastard for noticing the timing of it all. The swelling of the music and the spark she left whenever their hands met in the past few months, but he didn’t mind. "I promise."

The music seems to grow louder around them, and she still hasn't taken her hand from his. He finds himself smiling down at her with that goofy smile he had been wearing a lot lately. It only seemed to make an appearance around her, and he knew this.

"I really don't know what I know,"

Joyce meets his eyes with a genuine look, something familiar brewing in both of their chests. And that scares her. Her mind returns to Bob and the grip of fear tightens around her heart as Hopper looks at her like that.

"You want to have dinner tonight?" He asks, finally breaking more than one kind of silence that lingered between them.

Her heart catches in her throat, and she looks away growing bashful. And uncertain. Joyce can still feel his eyes on her and as he grins down at her flustered expression.

"You can give me some more pointers."

"Oh, I... Um..." Her hand leaves his and settles on her knee, and she returns her gaze to him with an apologetic look swimming in her eyes. "Um, I... I have plans."

"Okay, sure." He smirks, much too enamored with the awkward smile that graced her face to be offended by her answer.

Another comfortable silence befalls them as they sit enjoying one another's company. But even this moment is short lived in the wake of the customer bell announcing a new visitor to the store. Joyce perks, gesturing excitedly to the front as she excuses herself.

"Oh, a customer." Breathlessly, she heaves herself off the counter and eagerly makes her way to the woman up front. "Hey, Carol!"

"Oh, hi, Joyce!" The woman beams as Joyce scurried across the store to meet her. "How are you? So good to see you."

Hopper watches the exchange from where Joyce had left him standing, his eyes locked on the woman who had so quickly and so sneakily became such a vital part of his life. It was only logical to him that this friend of hers, Carol was so happy to see her; Joyce had a way with everyone she met. Not a single person left her company without their day brightened. She knew how to make everyone feel welcomed, heard and loved.

"She's got you,"

Looking at her now, there was no denying it. Not anymore. Hopper wanted that for her, and he hoped more than anything he could be the one to give her that.

||𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

The sun beats heavily down on my neck and shoulders the most, and I shiver every once in a while when I feel a bead of sweat fall down my skin. With a groan, I readjust the backpack on my shoulders and put all my energy into just keeping up with Max and Lucas and not on the burning sensation on my skin.

"This isn't fair," I pout. "Heat's my whole thing, I shouldn't be sweating like this."

"Well, good news is we're nearly there," Dustin assures, though I do not feel very comforted.

"Aren't we high enough?" Lucas asks, tugging at the large bag he was lugging over his shoulder.

"Cerebro works best at a hundred meters."

I groan up at the sky as I continue the hike up.

I began to hear spouts of quieted laughter from behind me but it's quickly cut off by Max's flat remark.

"I'm pretty sure people in Utah have telephones."

"Yeah, but Suzie's Mormon." Dustin replies.

"Oh shit." Lucas says surprised. "She doesn't have electricity?"

She's five or six steps ahead of me with her back turned and yet I can still make out Max's eye roll. "Oh, that's the Amish." She corrects tiredly.

"Mormans are super religious white people," Dustin begins. "They have electricity and cars and stuff but since I'm not Mormon, her parents would never approve. It's all a bit... shakespearean."

"Shakespearean?" Max indulges, a smirk in her voice.

"Yeah," Dustin answers, puffing his chest out a little. "Star crossed lovers."

"Right."

"Well, regardless Dustin," I begin, sharing a smile with Will. "I can't wait to be introduced."

I see Dustin perk up even more, and my smile grows. "Yeah?" He asks hopefully.

"Yeah!" I answer. "I wanna be a good sister. Can't wait to repay you for being so cool with me and Will, ya know?"

"Guys?"

I bite back a laugh but my smile is still triumphant. Dustin stops in his tracks, the others stopping as well seeming more than relieved. When Dustin turns to look at me, his face is hardened completely in a threatening glare.

"If you do or even say anything, I swear I will-"

"GUYS!"

Me and Dustin break away from our small fight and everyone turns to find Mike and El several feet down the hill. They're standing hand in hand and sending us all weak apologetic smiles and I feel my heart sink.

"This was fun and all, but uh..." Mike trails off, tapping his watch obnoxiously.

"I have to get home." El finished.

All mischief I was previously feeling with Dustin vanished, quickly replaced by guilt as I stole a quick glance at his saddened expression and the duo before us.

"We're almost there!" He says, completely bewildered and I can hear the hurt in his voice.

"Sorry man," Mike says, not sounding very sorry at all. "Curfew."

He starts to back away down the hill and he takes El's hand and whispers something to her that I don't catch.

El sent us all a warm look, as if nothing was wrong and for the first time I was upset to see her smile.

"Good luck," she says, before following on Mike's heels with an elated giggle.

I stare after them, my eyes burning holes in their backs and my hands no doubt burning holes in my pockets if I wasn't careful enough.

"Curfew at four?" Dustin asks, finally catching on to the majority of our summer without him.

"They're lying." Lucas huffs.

I see Will shrug angrily next to me. "It's been like this all summer."

"It's romantic," Max offers but even she doesn't sound so convinced.

"It's gross."

I shake my head, letting out a short sigh.

"It's... not healthy." Another flicker of anger attacked me suddenly, and I looked at all my friends bewildered before my glare landed back on the retreating couple. "And what the hell happened to 'friends don't lie'?"

"I don't know but it's bullshit." Dustin replies, his voice sad and filled with disappointment. "I just got home."

I look back over my shoulder and give my brother a sympathetic smile but I know it won't fix anything.

"I'm sorry Dustin. I really didn't think they would do it this time. They seemed so excited for you to come home."

He meets my eye and nods. If I look close enough I can see him rebuilding himself.

"Whatever... They're loss, right?" He smiled at us all and gestured to the hilltop behind us. "Onwards and upwards."

He takes off for the hill at unnatural speeds for our condition and cheers excitedly into the air. "Suzie awaits!"

Well shit, more climbing.

I groan, head landing on Will's shoulder in a tired pout. My voice isn't alone for as soon as I do I hear Max and Lucas throw back similar whines at the remaining trek ahead.

By the time I pick my head up off of Will's shoulder, everyone else is already several steps ahead. I sigh, ripping my stiffened and tired legs from where they rooted into the ground and start after them. Readjusting the backpack over my shoulder, my eyes drill into the top of the hill- the finish line - as I push ahead.

"Think they'll carry me if I fake a leg injury?" I chuckle to Will under my breath.

There's a small silence aside from the distant giggling of El and Mike as they descend the hill and the panting of the others as they run out of breath from the climb above us. I look to my right where Will was previously, only to find him several steps behind me. His back was turned to me and he was nervously clutching the bag of wires he had been carrying.

I took a few cautious steps towards him, my heart pounding for reasons I did not understand.

"Will?"

He scrambles back, jumping from one foot to the other as if dancing on hot coals and it looks as if he sees something in the grass.

"What, what is it? Will!"

He snaps out of his trance, turning to me wide eyed and now several steps closer to me. I quickly bridge the gap to stand by his side, searching his eyes carefully. He casts one last lingering glance out onto the grass where he was previously standing before meeting my eyes. There was something he was holding back, something deeply uncertain in the way he held himself and I got a sinking feeling in my gut.

A sinking feeling not unlike the night I found him outside the arcade. Anger quickly bubbles to the surface at the thought of something else getting him, and without a second thought I take his hand in mine.

He seems to relax a great deal at my touch, and he looks greatly reassured and instantly so am I.

He was still Will.

There was a silence that hung between us as he put on a smile for me. It was far from genuine, that I knew and the only thing it reassured me of was the fact that something definitely scared him.

Will looks past my shoulders, and gestures. "Come on, we better catch up. We've got some revenge to enact." Another forced laugh is let loose and he starts off after them.

Tries to at least, but he's pulled to a stop when I don't move an inch, my hand still tethered to his. He stops, looking back at me curiously.

"Will, you know you can tell me anything right?" I see a flicker of fear in his eyes. "I'm always going to be here for you, no matter what. And so are your friends. Well,"

I laugh bitterly.

"you know what I mean."

Will presses his lips into a flat smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, and nods a little too eagerly.

"I know," he reassures. "I promise."

One final flicker of fear flashes in his eyes as he seems to purge it from his system, quickly replacing it with a bright and happy expression. He tugs gently on our interlocked hands and gestures up the hill.

"Now... you ready to meet Dustin's first girlfriend?" He asks with a growing smirk.

I shake my head as a small laugh bubbles up despite the anxiety brewing fresh in my stomach. It still lingers in the back of my mind, but slowly boils down to a simmer, melting away as I meet the now genuine smile of Will's and I find myself giving in to the temptation of blissful ignorance. My legs begin carrying me to his side and quickly we start pacing up the hill with matching grins.

He might be able to tempt me with the offer of getting back at Dustin for now, but there's still a thought - a feeling - burning in the back of my mind. Something is definitely up with Will. The problem is, I don't know what and even worse, I don't think he knows either.

||𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

The endless parade of rats dart through the overgrown blades of grass, blending perfectly into the summer breeze passing through their surroundings. An undeniable instinct draws them onward to Brimborne Steel Works as sure as it set their skin ablaze in a horrendous flameless fire that ignited their insides just from their path even mingling with the Y/H, H/C girl who lingered nearby. Even a slight change in direction of the breeze had given them, the hosts, a feeling similar to standing atop a fresh layer of cooling magma that sent them scurrying off their path and was even strong enough to send pins and needles in the heels of their masters previous host.

They don't know their master, of course, or what a master is or why they have blended colonies. All they do know is the unceasing pull in their gut to follow orders. Orders to scavenge the unscavengable, feed on the inedible, and flee, flee... Flee.

And now hundreds of them scurry across the dying grass surrounding the abandoned steel works where they soon disappear inside. The wearhouse floor comes alive as hundreds more file in from every nook and cranny that can possibly be found. Their speed is fast enough to create its own gentle breeze that sweeps away several stray leaves that have collected on the concrete over the years as they head for a single steel stairway.

The enclosed space is soon overflowing with a sea of rats that create a symphony of pitter patter as their tiny feet scuttle down the metal staircase and into the deep lake of shadows that sat under the wearhouse. The only light that found its way down in the depths of Brimborne was the skylight leaking in from the doorway that illuminated the only possible clue to the sudden phenomenon;

Scattered across piles of glistening pink and red jelly were the hundreds of rats that had found their way home. The new home promised to them by the seemingly never ending pull in their gut. But the pull had mysteriously stopped when they reached the basement. But the presence of something dark and sinister remained.

The driving force - the pull - had not vanished but had instead morphed into a warm buzzing that grew intensely worse. It grew hotter and hotter, shaking their small bodies harder and harder as it spread to every cell at unnatural speeds that crippled them. They twitched and squealed in discomfort as they fell to the floor, their last cries for help before erupting into the very goo that they laid in.

The basement was filled with pop after sickening pop as the rats exploded into nothing, all of them and their remains glistening in the single beam of light just outside of the realm of shadows that held the true monster.

This monster that had poisoned Hawkins before. This monster that had spread its rot and death, and inevitable decay with everything it touched. However...

This was not the return of the Shadow Monster.

For the Shadow Monster had never left.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · All links are provided in the comments might not be accessible via the app BUT should work on the mobile website and desktop website. Please use them. Possible Warnings to black readers, and any other readers of color who might be triggered I have included several petitions to save POC facing the death penalty. However, first, here is the masterlist of black mental health resources if you need them. I've posted it many times but mental health is so important, and getting treated properly by people who truly understand you and your experiences can make all the difference, im sure. All my love 💓

Black Mental Health Carrd

[picture text id: there are other people on death row who can still be saved, petitions below]

Below is a link to @ SUNSETSAPPHICS twitter thread from the picture up above filled with several links that each take only a couple seconds to sign each, that i strongly urge - that I ask you to sign. You could potentially save a life. Please sign, spread the word anywhere and everywhere, tag people on your message board, tag people here, make a chapter about somewhere, idc just let your voices be heard and make a difference in these people's lives! Save. A life! It has happened before and we can do it again!

[link]

Petition to Abolish the Death Penalty

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag List: @dickkwad @aimee-lucass @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa @ @miscellaneoustoasts @happyandlonely-blog @missmulti @youpi-chan @peeperparkour @ba-responds @bibliophilesquared @blogforhoes @witch-of-all-things-soft @shawkneecaps @whothefuckstolemykeds @mirdall @fishswimbetterunderwater @daughter-of-the-stars11 @stranger-things4 @kpopanimegirl @nightbu-g @lozzybowe @bluechildrenlickmytoes

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slater-later · 3 years

Text

Clarence x Reader Flirt at the Bar

Audience: General

Warnings: None, flirting

Notes: At Y/N, insert your own name, pronouns, and preferred complimentary words. That way, Clarence uses what you like!

Read below the cuff!

For: @da3m0ns-exe

The two of you had met at an Irish pub a few blocks down the street. Dimly lit under the cheap green ‘chandeliers’, at least, they were trying to be, hanging over a narrow line of booths. A green shamrock sign buzzing in the corner window, listing O’ Conners next to the four leafed sign buzzing beside it.

It was a fine dump, gritty and warm and thick with cigarette smoke. A few old geezers sat at the bar, buzzing back large thick dark beers as they chatted in Greek. It was Detroit after all, and everyone was welcome. The D brought everyone together. And if you had a few bucks to spare, it would make your night worth while. The jukebox buzzed in the corner, firmly set from the 70’s and stacked high with classic 45’s. A quarter would get you two songs, and it would flip through the rest. Buzzing Marvin Gaye’s Through the Grape Vine through the open speakers. There were a few TV’s in the corner of the bar, one showing a Tigers baseball game and the other the racetrack. A chestnut filly bending over the corner and splitting from the pack. Her jockey lit a firecracker from out under her behind as he rode her to the front, cracking his crop as they crossed the finish line. Taking home 50k- something a brod in the corner was upset by. Throwing her hands up as she watched, swearing! Because she had bet the bar that #5 would win. California Folly, the chestnut mare, bit her for the win, and she slapped up her cash to the house. Her buddy chuckled to himself at her anger. The bartender greedily took her cash, smirking, as he slipped it into the cash register. He changed the chalk boards odds for the next race. A commercial flashed across the screen.

It was a bettin’ bar, and it was a Friday night. That meant, the race tracks were on. They even caught the signal from the tracks out West. Meaning people could get drunk and lose their money all night long. At least, far enough into the night to be firmly fucked by 10, and either pissed from losing their money or giddy because they made a decent buck. Either way, it meant the crowd pounded back drinks. The bar took home a load whether it was packed full or filled with crickets.

Clarence was seated up at the bar, his army jacket slipped off and hanging on his chair. He slowly leafed through his comic, head buried deep in his book. He slowly drank, the rum and coke sitting at the edge of his lips, relaxed and quiet after a long day at work.

He had closed up shop and came in for dinner, a burger and fries, and read the newest edition of Deadpool in his freetime. He actually had a small stack of them next to them. He had cashed his check and sorted the freshly delivered boxes before he locked up. Making a mental note to pay the old man in the morning- he would stuff the bills in the register tomorrow morning.

The new stuff sold fast, and that was exactly why he needed to make his pick before it hit the shelves. He had to be strategic! Take advantage of the perks of running the store!

You slid into the stool a few spots down, gesturing over to the bartender as he made his way over. He was built, wearing a plain black shirt that hung over his body. A gold chain that hung from his neck. He looked kind and quiet, gentle. He had worked there for several years.

“Whatcha’ having?”

“Pabst,” You nodded, popping out your wallet.

“Pint or pitcher?”

“Pint.”

“Alright, but they’re $7 until 11.” He collected your cash and made his way up the bar, pouring your drink.

Clarence’s nose was in the comic, one hand holding the bridge of it while the other slowly set down the beer. Reaching out for a fry and mindlessly dabbing it into ketchup before it crawled to his mouth. Slowly inching closer.

His long and shabby fry broke off, falling into his lap and getting on his jeans. You couldn’t help but to laugh. “You okay over there bud?” The bartender handed you your beer, curling in the glass as you took a sip. The foam made a fine mustache on your upper lip.

“Jesus!” He bit, pissed. He had just gotten to a good spot- he fucking didn’t want to stop! “I don’t know man.” He shook his head, nabbing a handful of napkins out of the dispenser and cleaning his lap.

He finally looked up as you set down your glass. Catching the side of your face- “I ain’t pulin’ your chain, but ya got somethin’ on your face,” He grabbed another handful, passing it over. “A lil’ on here,'' He rubbed his upper lip, brushing his faint five o’ clock shadow.

You grabbed a napkin from him, quickly wiping it away before you got too embarrassed. Shit happens. “Thanks,” You muttered with a smile, softly laughing. Folding it afterwards and placing it under your glass.

He nodded, reaching for his comic again.

You were in a good mood and company always made it better. You had the urge to chat, he was attractive, after all. “So, whatcha readin’?”

He looked over, eyebrows raised. “It’s uh, Deadpool. Issue #7,” He put his thumb on the page and flopped it over to the front. Reaching out his arm to show you the cover. “It’ll hit the shelves tomorrow.”

“How’d you get your hands on that?”

“Oh,” He flashed a guilty smile. Caught. “I work at the comic book store down the street, this is next week's issue,” The cover showed Deadpool stepping forward, gun in hand, his red and black latex suite dressed with a heavy white jeweled overcoat and flashing plants. He was wearing the iconic Evil Presley suit, black wig and sunglasses and all. Finger-pointing at a very unpleasant Cable, probably cursing Wade for being alive. Or was it that he can’t die?

“It’s the new Deadpool and Cable issue. It’s a new series they’re doing, do you wanna look?” He offered it and you happily accepted. Taking your time as you flipped through the pages, reading the inside insert. The introduction.

He rattled on, “It’s not as good as some of his other series but then I saw the front cover. I wanted to grab it before we ran out. I’m a big Elvis fan,” He smiled softly. Watching you read.

“Oh?” You peered up, raising an eyebrow. A hook- Elvis wasn’t exactly your man, but it didn’t deter you. “Is he your favorite?”

He beamed as he sipped his glass, nodding as the glass left his lips, setting it down on the wet napkin. “Favorite? It doesn’t begin to describe how much I love that man,” He could rattle on for forever. Even blab again about how much he wanted to fuck Elvis. But, usually, that wasn’t the most widely loved small talk conversation? He was better off tabling that conversation for a later time. Unless he wanted to blow his chance when flirting with a hot person. A man needed to get lucky sometimes, alright? Sheesh, he didn’t think some bisexuality was a bad thing. Isn’t that, a, you know? A sexual fantasy for some folks?

He drilled a finger into the side of his temple, elbow up on the bar as he watched you. How your feet shifted in your sift as you curled up closer to him, leaning in, tenderly turning the page of a secretly, newly loved comic. Mashing up the two things that made him bounce up and down with pure excitement. He was delighted.

“I’m a huge fan, I’ve always been since I was a kid. My dad used to listen to him while I was growing up, and I’ve had the itch ever since. He changed rock n’ roll forever, for the better,” He would watch old tapes of his dancing and performing on stage, having become familiar and comforting to his body. It was something he could return to, regardless of how he felt, and know he felt comfort in.

That, and watching him dance up on stage was light lightening. A friend and a lover.

“What’s your favorite song?” You smirked, flipping a page. You were more interested in his eyes than the panel. Wondering if he had caught on.

He slid from his seat to the one next to you, dragging his beer along with him. The bartender snapped up his long forgotten dinner. Wiping down the table. “Do you mind?” He gestured to the seat, checking in.

“No,” You shook your head smiling, your delight so easy to read. “Not at all,” You swore you could feel your heart skip a beat. Your body felt fresh, warmed by the flash of heat spreading through your cheeks. You hoped another drink of your beer would help, at least to calm the giddy building up inside of you.

You would cut yourself off at two beers. At the rate of your drinking, you’d been in the hole after three. Too drunk to drive and by the soft patter of the rain outside, you didn’t want to be stuck in the rain. Trying to wave down a cab as it poured, head buzzed and tired, ready to flop down in your bed and forced to make it back. Getting fucked up was fun, but getting home could be a challenge.

The thought already sounded miserable. You’d much rather be here, with the jukebox, under the warm hum of the bear and its speakers. It switched over to You’ll Never Find Another Love Like Mine by Lou Rawls.

“Good,” He smiled with a surprising amount of soft charm. Voice low as his pinky mused with his lip, eyes slow as they took in your body.

He had to look away.

FUCK! It wasn’t polite to do that shit, he was either going to get a drink thrown in his face again or something!

He kept his eyes up at the bar, tongue flashing across his teeth as he chuckled to his mind. He could be so fucking stupid! This Y/N was going to beat him.

He fisted for his cigs in his flannel pocket, offering you one.

Okay, this guy was an idiot, but a cute one.

“Thanks,” You took a cig and slipped it between the side of your lips. Grabbing your lighter in your coat pocket, prepared as a common smoker should. You lit both of your cigarettes.

“So, you didn’t answer my question,” You shot, releasing a draw downward.

He snapped it out of his mouth, square in hand as he shook his head awake. “Shit, what was it again?” He laughed, he was losing his head around you. You sucked all the smarts out of his brain.

You elbowed him lightly, amused. “What’s your favorite Elvis song?”

He paused for a moment, getting his mind in gear. Quickly shuffling the different songs on his head- “Hound Dog, and then Blue Suede Shoes, and All Shook Up,” It was the fast, catchy beats of Elvis’s drawl that got him. The electricity that he exuded, that made him want to dance and grab the hand of a friend, a stranger, even an old person!

It made him want to boogie to the music.

You snickered, he hit right on the money. Damn, this guy had taste. Of the few you knew well, those were it. “Where does Jailhouse Rock rank?”

“8th,” He said clear as day, pointent. It was clearly not his favorite, but a hot contender. He had, in fact, listened to every single god damn song Elvis had published. Including the Hawaiian soundtrack album, which was a partial wash. He thought Elvis was at best when he was shaking it for a crowd, not trying to play at movie making. Yet, it hadn’t stopped him from consuming them all. “I paused not because I didn’t have a top three, but because…” Shit, he got himself in a hole? Wasn’t he playing the ‘cool guy’ really well?

“Because?” You flicked into the ashtray, bringing your arm in for a draw. Raising your eyebrows at him as you drew, feeling the air.

“Because I was thinking about you,” He slipped both elbows on the bar, facing forward towards the line of liquor and head turned towards you. Smirk painted on his lips, shameless in his expression, “You’re very Y/N.” He smiled, eyes stilling on you as they peered into yours eyes, then passed down your shoulder. “And I don’t normally get to talk to a Y/N like you.” Usually, they either weren’t interested in talking about comics and Elvis. So, what was there to talk about? Stupid small talk they he didn’t know much about? It was much harder, trying to find a Y/N with similar interests.

Your face felt warm again. You finished off the rest of your drink. Quenching your fuzzy head with the sharp inhale of nicotine, trying to peel the flush off of your cheeks. You couldn’t hide it- his soft pink lips looked beautiful when they moved. Especially when they were saying such sweet words.

You slicked a hand across your face, hiding the bite of your red cheeks, “How about we get a booth in the corner? And you tell me a bit more about yourself?” It seemed like a good idea. And it would give you a moment, to collect yourself, before continuing your chat.

You raised a hand to the bartender. He turned and you held up two fingers. A pint for you each.

“Hmph!” His spiky eyebrows peaked up, elated. “Sounds good to me!” He snickered, collecting his stack of comics and waiting for the drinks to come. You two stepped to the back to back of the bar, sliding in next to each other at the dark spot in the room. A place, where neither of you would be bothered. Holed up, until the bar closes, chatting about sweet nothing while you got to know each other. Maybe get, caught in the rain together, under his umbrella. Before turning in, to his apartment.

It was, in fact, closer than your apartment.

#true romance #christian slater #clarence x reader #fan fic #tristen writes #enjoy Ben!#This was fun

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mason-knight · 3 years

Text

from X (they were talkative tonight)

It took most of the day before Mason was able to grab a moment with Marie, and by then the hour was late and he had to track her down in her quarters.

“Nice digs,” he says, walking into the spacious room. It surprised him, he wouldn’t have expected anything this comfortable on an Alliance ship but it was just one more thing to add to the list of readjusted expectations when it came to the Alliance.

But then he spots Nico lounging by the viewport and suddenly the luxe cottons of the bedspread and the soft lighting from the lamps and the extra plush pillows make a lot more sense. He raises an eyebrow, and Nico jerks one shoulder up in answer before turning back to the datapad in his hands and ignoring him.

Nice to see somethings didn’t change.

“Masey,” Marie smiles as she motions for him to slide the door shut behind him, only for Maddox of all people to slide through the gap before it seals. Mason throws the other adept an irritated glance before choosing to ignore him and he wonders briefly when did their little squad become just an anti-trust exercise of who could pretend the other didn’t exist the hardest.

A pair of certain gold flecked eyes comes to mind before Mason ruthlessly shoves them aside - along with the heavy ache in his chest they try to drag with them. Case in point.

“What can I do for you?”

“Just checking in,” he says, although there’s more to his visit than that. He’d spotted her in the small crowd of crew and marines as the captain made his welcome speech earlier and he had recognized her stance and her mildly humming signature straight away.

A fury.

Marie gives him a disbelieving look as she pulls off the jacket of her uniform. “Really? You didn’t do that earlier?” she says dryly.

“Looks like Huntsman has something on his mind,” Maddox mutters, making himself comfortable in the middle of the wide bed that takes pride of place in the XO quarters. He throws a hand over his eyes and sighs loudly, and that’s all it takes for Marie to cross the room and rub her fingers over his scalp gently. Maddox rumbles something Mason can’t hear before she smiles down at him and plants a quick kiss to his cheek.

It was still the weirdest fucking friendship Mason had never been able to work out and he darts a glance to Nico, wondering how the grumpy, uptight Italian took the casual affection between his girlfriend and his fellow phoenix, only to find Nico quite clearly doesn’t give enough of a shit to be concerned.

Mason frowns, waiting until Marie turns her attention back to him. She raises her eyebrows expectantly as she starts to kick off her boots. “So, you have something on your mind. Speak.”

Mason pauses, wondering exactly how to broach this before opting to take a leaf out of Maddox and Nico’s books and go for direct.

“What’s with the fury?”

Marie doesn’t look surprised by his blunt question. She glances down, working on her other boot and yanking it off before she stands up to answer him. He folds his arms across his chest, the concern floating inside him making his jaw turn hard.

“You have four phoenix on board,” he tells her, like that should be obvious. And it should be. Granted, Ajax wasn’t in fighting shape yet, but Ben and Nico and himself were all salivating for a fight.

There’s a muffled “Could have been five,” that comes from Maddox and those four words send ice flooding down his spine.

“Shut up, Ajax or I’ll shove you out the fucking airlock.”

Maddox props himself up onto his elbows slowly and looks directly at Mason, eyes cold. “I’d like to see you try.”

“That makes two of us. Might be worth tearing half the ship apart to put you in your place once and for all.”

“Like you could take me, old man.”

“Maybe I should finish what the phantom started-”

“That’s enough!” Marie’s yell is the only thing that makes the red around his vision recede and Mason is immediately pissed at himself and more than chagrined by Marie’s furious glare. It’s always been Ajax’s unique little skill, he always knew just where to slip the knife in and twist and make it fucking hurt.

Marie jabs him hard in the chest, wincing when it doesn’t give under the soft flesh of her finger. He spares a second to hope she didn’t hurt herself.

“No one is putting any holes in my ship,” she continues angrily. “Jesus Christ, if you’re both finished with the dick measuring contest, will the two of you kindly get lost? It’s been a long day and I’m tired and I think I want Nic to give me a massage on the inside-“

“Can I help?” Maddox asks hopefully.

Marie plants her hands on her hips and glares. “That was a one time thing,” she hisses and Mason has to stop and rewind that moment in his mind to make sure he’s heard it properly.

“Wait, you fucked Ajax? And Nico let that happen?”

Maddox snickers. “Nico was there-“

“Holy shit!”

Marie pinches the space between her brows and takes three deep breaths, clearly trying to find her calm. Mason casts a glance at Nico, still engrossed in the datapad and pointedly ignoring everything. He finds himself eyeing Nico in a new light suddenly. “Wow, I’m kinda impressed, Zeus. Didn’t think you went for that.”

Nico levels a stare at him over the datapad but says nothing.

“Right,” Mason rolls his eyes. “Good talk, mate.”

He turns his attention back to Marie, only to discover she’s apparently done with all of them. Her uniform pants are peeled off and so is her singlet. She’s about to remove her bra when she levels a baleful stare at him, gesturing for him to turn around but he doesn’t bother to budge.

“What? We’ve all seen it,” he says with a shrug.

“If you put this in your spank bank for later, I’ll sic nico on you,” she threatens.

Mason offers her an exaggerated leer before he glances at Nico, just to be a pain in the ass. “It’d be worth it.”

“Oh for god’s sake,” she mutters, turning her back and pulling off her bra to quickly swap it for a sleep shirt.

“I don’t know why you’re bothering,” Maddox says idly, now sprawled back on the bed with his hands behind his head and staring at the ceiling. “He’s just gonna tear it off you anyway.”

“Not as long as you two assholes are still here. Seriously, Mase. What is it? I know why he is,” she swats Maddox’s boot. “But why are you here?”

Mason pulls his attention back and all his good mood and humour dissipates like smoke on the wind. His expression turns serious, recalling the reason why he’d sought her out in the first place. He could have asked the Captain, he supposes but he was still finding his feet around the other man. He had the ability to be much more candid with Marie. He wanted to know more. He wanted to know why there was another formidable biotic on the ship. A biotic that they didn’t need.

“Why does the Alliance need the phoenix and a fury all in the same place?”

This time it’s Marie who folds her arms across her chest. She looks tired and Mason has a sudden bout of regret for bringing this up now. “You sound a little put out about it, Mason.”

“Maybe I am. You don’t need her.”

Marie tilts her head, eyes suddenly hard. Mason knows he’s just pissed her off, but he’s not sure it’s in him to feel bad about it. When they had approached him about making the SSV Berlin the base for any phoenix led operations, no one said shit about having a fury along for the ride too.

“She’ll give you a run for your money, Mason. So, you’d better check that ego.”

“An unenhanced, unaugmented biotic with a standard alliance issue amp?” he scoffs. “Not bloody likely.”

Marie plucks the datapad out of Nico’s hand but he doesn’t protest when she flicks it to Mason. He catches it easily, frowning at the scrolling text. “What’s this?”

“Have a read of her file,” Marie tells him and Mason scans the screen, his frown slowly morphing into surprise and something else that leaves him cold.

“Bloody hell.”

“Yep,” she says sweetly. Mason suspects she’s enjoying this a little too much. “Better get used to not being top dog around here anymore, Huntsman. Who knows, maybe she can even teach you a thing or two.”

#marie miller #maddox gibbons #mason knight #nico morrisini #eva novakov #SSV Berlin #look i didn't know he felt this way until i was just minding my own business having a shower and he started yelling about it #and demanding to talk to marie #sooooo #i dunno if it's gonna be a thing or what #but he is Big Concern (read: actually jealous)#byyye

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sleekervae · 3 years

Text

The Neighbour [1.3]

Masterlist

A/N: I’m in a really good mood today and found the motivation to write! Super fluff ahead!!

When Eva woke up, not having remembered falling asleep, she let the light seep in behind her eyelids, floating shapes dancing in her vision before she even thought about opening her eyes again.

She was surrounded by a cloud of warmth, a thick cologne which she had grown too attached to for her own good and his hand was in her hair, tangling and untangling the curls, brushing gently as if distracted by something else, but wanting her to know he was there nonetheless.

She slowly opened her eyes, readjusting to her own living room, the memory of being on the sofa with him before she'd drifted off slowly coming back to her. She glanced down at her lap, his lap, then followed the brightness of his phone in his hand as he typed, closed and opened another app with his free hand, "Rem?"

He flinched, unaware that she'd woken because she was so peaceful, so still. "Yeah?"

"Am I your lock screen?"

Eva stared down at the picture that glowed through the oncoming dark, half confused, half endeared by the silent gesture and the meaning it held.

"Oh, shit," Remington giggled nervously, his cheeks already a flushed pink as he pulled back slightly to look at her, "You weren't supposed to see that, Eva,"

"When did you take this?" she pushed. The girl she looked at seemed so different somehow, so unaware of what was coming, but the laughter and happiness radiated off the screen and it could've only been the company she was with, the ease, the delicate carefree comfort he brought her.

Remington swallowed, "The album party..."

Eva nodded, "This was before the patio?"

"Before the patio. Still only seems like yesterday, you know?"

She smiled with endearment, "Yeah. How long has it been, a month?"

"About that, I think," he smiled back at her, the light reaching his eyes. "I only changed it the other day... now that I know that we're... together... you just looked so pretty. I know you weren't feeling too good, but you were glowing to me," He stroked his fingers through her hair lovingly again. "It's just -- my favorite picture of my favorite girl,"

Eva felt her heart leap in her chest and leant to press her lips to his without second guessing it, the familiarity of kissing him, of being able to kiss him still yet to settle as reality.

He moved his lips with hers eagerly, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, drawing her breath from her lungs effortlessly. She tasted so sweet, so addictive that he knew he'd never have enough.

"You know that picture we took in the bathroom last week?" she whispered against his lips.

"Yeah,"

"We should take more like that. I don't take a lot of pictures of myself, but I'd like more of us,"

"I'd like that, Eva... I'd like that very much,"

The clicking of spokes echoed through the tunnel, the lights above flickering over the girls' heads as they whizzed towards the light at the opening. Eva and Shy were neck and neck as they pedalled on their bikes, giggling and urging the other to hurry so they could beat the guys as they closely followed one their skateboards. Of course, they were proudly repping the new skateboard that would soon be out on the merch market.

"C'mon! C'mon! They're right behind us!"

Eva was unsure how a competition between the bike and skateboard arose, but she was too caught up in the thrill to care. She gripped the leather-worn handles of her yellow bike tightly, flying out of the street tunnel beside Shy. Pepper and Pluto sat in their baskets at the handlebars, too enthralled with the wind whipping over their faces to care about each other.

Remington had to wonder to himself why he didn't just take his car to the park; his own ego assuring him that he and Emerson could totally beat the girls there. Maybe if he was on a bike, then he may have had a chance. The skateboard was utterly useless in this situation as the girls became smaller and smaller in the distance.

"Hurry the fuck up, Emerson!"

"The boards aren't motorized!"

The girls came to the park quickly after, dismounting and coming to stop under a shady tree. Shy put Pepper down in the long grass and she immediately went bounding around, excited to explore and sniff all the new smells. Pluto took a look around the open park, glaring in dismay as to why he wasn't at home and decided to settle into the roots of the tree. Pepper then came trotting over to Pluto, in her excitement tumbling through the grass and rolling into Pluto. The tabby glared at the pomeranian and batted her away with his tail.

Though Eva was almost certain they were in the middle of nowhere, no other cars or people in sight for miles, she was more than happy to set up their picnic. She whipped a blanket over the grass and Shy began to pull food and drinks from her backpack. She looked out across the street, just able to get a glimpse of the guys coming their way.

"Maybe their next board should be electric," she grinned.

"And give them a fair chance?" Eva shook her head, "Where's the fun in that?"

Remington and Emerson finally made it to the open park, their legs sore and shoes scuffed from kicking at the ground over and over. They grabbed their board and jogged to meet the girls under the tree.

"Next time... we're taking the car," Remington huffed.

"It was your stupid idea to race, anyway," Emerson grumbled.

"But when I come up with a stupid idea, you can talk me out of it,"

The girls smiled coyly at the guys, "What took you so long?" Eva asked.

They sat down with the girls and took a moment to collect themselves. Surrounded by tall green grass and inhaling crisp air which made them feel distinctively far from home in the city, they were heading up to a small bank. The heat was palpable already, but the linen material of Eva's white sundress which stopped just above her knees, the hems frilly and delicate, provided a welcome breeze. She shifted to her knees as she helped Shy set up the food they brought.

Remington laid back in the grass, admiring the way the light dazzled between the gaps in the branches, then angled his face again to admire Eva, how effortlessly pretty and ethereal she looked amongst the natural landscape, "Did I mention how beautiful you look in that dress?" he muttered.

Eva lifted her head, looking down at her outfit then blushing at him, "A few times, yeah,"

"Just had to drive the point home," he grinned.

Emerson couldn't help but roll his eyes at his brother's sweet talk, "You guys are gross," he chided playfully.

"Look who's calling the kettle black," Shy chuckled, tossing a grape at the drummer. Emerson tried to catch it in his mouth but it bounced across his cheek and fell into the grass. He was quick to grab it before Pepper or Pluto could.

Remington pulled some of the drinks from his own bag, canned spiked sodas and juices. He grabbed a Nude seltzer and popped it open, unprepared for the fizz and carbonated shower that sprayed over him and the blanket briefly. The others giggled at him and Eva took a napkin to wipe some of the soda from his cheek.

"Thanks," he muttered bashfully.

The four kids shared in vegetable chips and vegan BLTs, with some fruit and two-bite brownies for their dessert. Pluto and Pepper had the opportunity to snack on some pieces of apple and banana. Eva was surprised to see her tabby not trying to start a fight with Pepper.

"You can never go wrong with brownies," she said, popping the little bite of goodness into her mouth.

Shy hummed in agreement, "I wanted to bring the whipped cream too, but I couldn't find it," she said.

Remington and Eva glanced at each other warily, wondering if they knew where the whipped cream actually went. Remington quickly cleared his throat.

"Uh -- I used the rest last weekend," he said, "We made chocolate pudding,"

"Yeah," Eva nodded quickly, "Rem's a secret gourmet,"

Emerson cocked an eyebrow, "Since when?"

"Since Eva," Remington grinned with pride.

The boys had brought out a soccer ball and decided on a quick match in the grass, with Pepper running between their legs to join in the fun. The girls had a different idea, however. Eva needed a new photograph to post along side a piece for her blog, and she asked if Shy would be willing to model. Of course, Shy was more than happy to oblige her.

They picked a small bouquet of daffodils that were growing just a few feet from the tree. The young model kneeled next to the winding roots, tossing her head back and clutching the vibrant yellow bouquet to her chest, her dark brown almond eyes staring into Eva's soul through her phone lens. Shy was easily one of the most strikingly beautiful women Eva had come across, and what made it better was her heart was practically made of gold.

"Wow," Eva breathed as she stared at the photo, "Emerson! I think I'm love with your girlfriend!" Shy bursted into giggles.

Emerson scoffed, "It's okay, I don't blame you!" he called back.

"How'd the picture turn out?" Shy asked, coming to take a look for herself, "Nice! You into photography, too?"

"It's an amateur hobby. I get most of my stuff from Pinterest," she replied.

"You ever think of modelling yourself?" she asked the young writer.

Eva shook her head quickly, blushing, "Me? Oh -- gosh, no!"

"Why not? You're fucking gorgeous. Not to mention so many girls would kill to have your naturally full lips," Shy said.

"I appreciate that. But I think I'm just more comfortable behind the camera, you know?" Eva replied.

Shy smiled and nodded, "I get it. But... if you ever change your mind, I'm expanding my business to a clothing line and I could use some cute models in the future,"

Eva blushed at the idea. Her, a model? Sure, she was confident in her body and what she wore, but she hadn't done a lot in terms of putting her actual face out into the digital media world. It might be fun, though?

"... I'll think about it,"

Sharp grass sliced at Eva's shins as she jogged through the plain, her fingers intertwined with his, the warm palm of his hand so familiar that she would have followed him anywhere. Looking up at the high tree tops, the bright blue sky and the sun peeking through, flooding their picnic spot behind them in a golden glow. Remington wasn't all too sure where he was taking her, he just wanted a minute to have Eva to himself.

The colours were vibrant, rich green tree tops, his pastel pink hair losing its sharp spike and falling over his face, complimenting his pale skin so gorgeously as he turned around while pulling her along. The melodic tone of his voice only drew her in further, she could barely keep up, her sneakers dragging on the ground as she followed Remington, kicking up tiny stones and branches.

"Where are we going?" her voice carried with the wind.

"I don't know," Remington shrugged, smiling gleefully at her, "But that's part of the fun, isn't it?"

She chuckled, "So help me God you get us lost, Remington,"

"We won't get lost," he flashed her that heart-wrenching smile that had her falling head over heels for him all over again. The way her fingers were wound around his made his skin tingle, and his breath hitched in his throat when he decided to stop, spun around and twirled her into a nearby tree, pinning her against his chest. His wild eyes flashed with excitement before he closed the space between them and pressed a deep kiss to her lips.

Her own lips parting, she moaned into his mouth, instantly desperate for more. His hands moved instinctively to hold her hips and she inhaled sharply when she felt the bark indent her skin, her arm wrapping slowly around his neck, her other hand now letting go of his to move slowly into his hair, her nails scratching lightly at the back of his neck, tugging gently on his soft pinky/brown locks as her lips moved eagerly with his.

"You dragged me out here to fuck, then?" she drawled amusedly, her voice nothing but a hint, her tone needy, already eager for more as his calloused fingertips dug into the material of her dress clinging to her hips.

"Have you seen yourself in that dress, darling?" he rasped, his lips were red, his chest flushed, eyes half-open, yet fixated on her flawless features. The glint of mischief in her eyes, the clear determination, everything about her excited him to a new level he never knew he could have, "You're something out of my dream,"

"How original," she chided, squealing briefly when he lifted her by her thighs and kissed her again. Her legs came to wrap around his torso, humming softly, only his hands on the tree keeping her off the ground. She was weak for the way his fingers stroked her skin tenderly yet held her so possessively that she knew she wouldn't have been able to pull away and deny him even if she wanted.

And his lips were on her neck in an instant, driving her wild as he licked and bit, not abashed about leaving a mark. She tilted her head back until she bumped against the tree, her stormy blue eyes slipping shut. The only thing she could feel was a cool breeze ghosting over the bare skin of her legs, his warm hands squeezing her thighs, and his chapped lips ravaging over her neck and chest like she was his final meal.

Her eyes fell open for a minute, mesmerized by the sun peaking through the treetops above, reaching them even in their spot of seclusion. The branches danced and swayed in the wind, and Eva had a brief thought slip through her mind.

"Remington," Eva gasped, pushing at his chest lightly so he'd pull away.

"Mhmm?" he looked up at her with dark, lustful eyes.

"... Can you climb this tree?" the bottom branches were low enough for him to grab a hold of, and it had dawned on her that she'd never seen him climb anything, despite how much he bragged about it.

Remington took a wistful glance at the branches, smiling easily, "Is that a question or a request?"

"Well, I've never seen you climb," she shrugged back.

"Piece of cake," he set her back on her feet, but she leaned against the tree for a moment longer so she could collect herself.

Remington took a few steps, like he was gearing up to run a track race. With Eva standing well out of the way, he took three long steps before he leapt up and grabbed the first branch. The bark on that particular spot was weak and he stumbled to the ground, "Shit!"

"Jesus!" Eva gasped, "Okay, don't do it if it's gonna' cost a trip to the ER,"

"It's okay," he assured her, rubbing his palms on his jeans to take the sting out, "Just a fluke,"

He backed up and tried again, this time gripping the branch tightly and pulling himself up. Eva stood back in awe, his forearms clenched tightly and the veins in his biceps popped, but he showed little overall effort as he maneuvered his way to sit on the branch.

"See? Piece of cake," he simpered.

Eva crossed her arms over her chest, "How's the view?"

Remington smiled down at her, "Pretty fantastic, not gonna' lie. Care to join me?"

"I would love to, but I don't possess any upper body strength, whatsoever," she said.

"That's no problem," he jumped back down and stood behind her, gripping her hips tightly "Do you trust me?"

Eva glanced at the branch warily, standing over her head at a good eight feet. Her fingertips couldn't even brush the bark if she stood on her toes. But she looked to Remington, nodding slowly. He counted down from three before he hoisted her up and Eva quickly grabbed the branch, heaving herself to sit at the spot where the branch met the trunk. Remington hopped up right after, pausing briefly as the wood made a lowly creak, but he relaxed when they were still in the air.

"Piece of cake," Eva mocked.

"Yeah, 'cause I did all the heavy lifting," he nudged her gently, "Literally,"

"I didn't ask you to lift me up here" she pouted.

"But it's more fun with you up here," he lifted his head and caught her lips in a kiss before she retort in any way, holding her in his arms and deepening their kiss.

She hummed softly, parting her lips and cupping his face into her hands, unable to pay attention to anything beyond Remington's lips moving hungrily with hers, his body pressed up against her.

There was a brief moment when Eva forgot where she was as she went to plant her hand behind her, only instead of a solid ground her fingers brushed thin air and she jolted, breaking their kiss and staring down at the ground.

"Fuck," It didn't seem all the far down from the grass, but up here she felt like she was miles up.

Remington chuckled, "You okay?" and she nodded, pink tinting her cheeks. He pulled her tighter into his embrace, willfully ensuring that she wasn't going anywhere, "Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you,"

The sun eventually began to settle into the horizon, maybe it was four or five o'clock now? Eva was tired but happy as she sat against the tree trunk at their picnic spot, Remington's head in her lap and she threaded her fingers through his pink hair and they conversed amongst themselves. And then her attention was captured when she heard a sultry request.

"What poem are you gonna' use with the picture, Eva?" Emerson suddenly asked. Eva was taken aback for a moment, her tongue suddenly running dry.

"Erm -- j-just a new thing I wrote a while back," she said, "I kept meaning to put it up, but it always needed some tweaking,"

Remington glanced up at her, "... Can we hear it?"

"Yeah," Shy nodded, hope glimmering in her dark eyes.

Eva relented faster then she usually did, perhaps because she knew they would continue to bother her about it until she would just buck up and read it. And she knew Remington would never make her do anything she wasn't comfortable with. Besides, they had all read the proses she had posted already, what actual difference would it make for her to read aloud?

"Okay..."

She grabbed her bag and fished out her notebook, only having to flip to the first few pages. She settled back against the tree trunk. She inhaled to gather herself as her eyes scanned the words she had written only a few months back. Funny, how her writing looked so different compared to how she wrote now. The emotion was different...

"I thought you were so mature when I met you

because we were 18 and you liked pistachio ice cream

and you smoked weed.

And I thought, "what are the chances you'd like someone like me?"

And you never did."

Despite Eva's misgivings, she had a natural storytelling voice. Calm and soothing, Remington had quickly fallen in love with the sound. There was an eternal softness in her voice, a magic that transformed every word she spoke into something more, something special. It relaxed Remington more than he thought possible. His heart was full, content.

"And eight months ago, seven years later,

I met someone who spends his summers in Long Beach, NYC

and studies law as a hobby

and I thought, "he's so accomplished, why would he ever like me?"

And it turns out he never actually did either,

at least not enough to make it real."

Emerson hugged Shy tightly, resting his head on her shoulder as they were both hanging on every word. Her fingers splayed through the grass, twisting, tugging blade by blade surely the same way these characters had to Eva's subject.

"Then I got drunk one night and I texted him

and I asked him "why I wasn't good enough?"

and he said that I was.

He liked me all along, I just refused to see it.

I was the one who decided I wasn't enough.

Sometimes we actually can't see things that are so obviously right in front of us

because we feel we don't deserve them.

And all I could think about was how different my life would have been

if I realized that at the ice cream parlor seven years ago,"

#palaye royale #Palaye Royale imagine #Palaye Royale fic #remington leith #Remington Leith imagine #emerson barrett #sebastian danzig #palaye positivity #emo boys #fluff #summer love #boy bands #band imagines #band imagine blog #band blog #poetry #original story #original female character

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nilesflynn · 3 years

Text

September, 2015 - Pembroke, Maine (Part 2/2)

I honestly thought it’d be over.

I thought maybe she’d be smart enough to listen when I told her to run away as fast as she could.

I guess I was wrong though.

Loki and Zevi chased each other back and forth around my feet playing our version of cops & robbers: Soul Collectors & Reapers.

Michael was yelling at someone on the phone upstairs loud enough that I could make out his side of the conversation with relative ease.

The rotary phone on the wall was ringing off the hook.

All while Echo paced in endless circles in front of the counter, rambling on and on, about what I’d lost track half an hour ago, only occasionally picking up a lot of excited “I knew it!”

I leaned heavily on the counter.

I wanted to swear at her, but I didn’t want to do it in front of the pups.

“Oh my God, finally real proof, like legit proof that this is real!” My gaze narrowed slightly.

“You can’t share this.” Echo froze, her expression slowly deflating as she turned to look at me dead on.

“But,” her pale green eyes were filled with a mix of frustration and confusion, “you hunt these things, right? The dangerous ones at least.” I nodded slightly in slow confirmation. “Don’t you want some credit—a thank you every now and then?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

“You didn’t thank me.” I pointed out and she frowned.

“I had it handled.” I scoffed. “Wouldn’t it at least be easier if there were more of you doing it?” And that actually earned a dry laugh from me.

“No,” I spoke simply, “I’d have more messes to clean up.” Echo’s look slowly changed, her face turning stiff as she glared at me.

“I finally have proof, solid, undeniable evidence that monsters are real—the supernatural is real, it’s all real; I finally have proof that I’m not crazy, and you’re saying I can’t share it?” I didn’t really understand why she was having such a hard time with this, “They all think I’m crazy, do you know what that’s like?” I set my jaw, resisting the urge to snap a reply, “My own family thinks I’m crazy and I finally have the chance to prove that it’s not just in my head!” She fell silent for a moment, but still I said nothing, waiting for the rest of it,

“You know, I think I know why you won’t let me write about it: you’re a fracking, selfish bitch.” I didn’t mean to react, I swear, but suddenly my canines had sliced into my lip again and my eyes flickered into red gold with pupils constricted to narrow slits.

“Are you Reyna Wildes?” I guess they took my silent glare as confirmation, because they kept talking, “Thank you for your service.” A part of me would’ve been happy for the thanks, “if it’s not too much to ask, could we get your autograph?” But I’ve never thought of myself as a hero, and I was in a bad mood that seemed to just keep getting worse.

“I’m not asking you to not talk about it for my benefit, I’m asking for my kids, and everyone else,” I paused as I thought about it, “actually, I’m not asking at all, I’m telling you.” She grit her teeth and started to reply but I didn’t give her the chance. “You still don’t get it? How about this,” I cocked my head to one side, a malicious grin plastered to my face, “go ahead and talk about it, but if any of it goes online,” I grinned wider, “I’ll destroy everything important to you.” Because that’s what’ll happen to us, I left the words unspoken because I thought she’d understand without explanation.

And she really did seem to at the time.

I didn’t find out what she did until I got back from dropping Loki and Zevi off at school.

There were cars lining both sides of the street as I turned onto it, some of them with back windows plastered with stickers for Bigfoot, Area 51, and quite a few had one with “Don’t be blind, Broaden your mind” paired with an image of Echo’s seafoam green VW bus and the words “The Echo Phenomenon” in bold, 70s style letters.

My grip on the steering wheel tightened as I pulled hurriedly into my space in the alley, and I was halfway out of the driver’s seat by the time I turned the engine off.

I started to bolt through the back door, but I was in such a rush I’d nearly forgotten to lock my Jeep.

I jerked the door open again so hard that I almost stopped to make sure the hinges were okay before I locked it.

The back door slammed behind me and seventy something sets of eyes, including those of Michael, Jesse, and Echo, all landed on me.

God, I hate crowds.

A beat later and the people started chattering away again and asking Echo for autographs while Michael and Jesse tried in vain to usher them back into the actual shop.

They hadn’t just invaded my shop, they'd invaded my home.

A trio of strangers sporting homemade t-shirts for The Echo Phenomenon approached me, if hesitantly, with something between admiration and awe in their eyes.

“Reyna Wildes!” I tilted my head slightly towards Echo, watching her with one eye as I stared after the smoke that escaped my lips to join the pillar that rose from the blazing fire before me, “What have you done to Emerson?!” She stared in disbelief at the flaming bus. I exhaled slowly, pinching my cigarette between long fingers and tapping it lightly; the ash seemed to me to fall from the end in slow motion.

“Fuck off.”

My heart started pounding in my head.

A beat.

I shoved my way through the crowd to the lockers under the stairs, ignoring what was beginning to sound like a million voices all trying to be heard over each other.

A beat.

I fumbled with the lock, swore, tried again, and finally pulled it free leaving it crushed on the floor.

A beat.

I pulled a gallon can of gasoline from inside.

A beat.

I slammed it shut.

A beat.

I shoved my way through to the front door.

A beat.

The door slammed hard enough to rattle the glass panes.

A beat.

My stride carried me across the street in a few seconds.

A beat.

I tried the back door of Echo’s VW bus, and to my brief surprise, it was unlocked.

A beat.

I jerked the door open hard enough I was pretty sure I’d damaged the hinges; this time, I didn’t care.

A beat.

I emptied the can, dousing the inside with gasoline.

A beat.

I pulled a pack of cigarettes from my pocket, pressing one between my lips.

A beat…

Magic snapped to life on my fingertips and I lit it.

A beat…

I inhaled, relishing the temporary sense of peace that finally started to set in.

A beat…

I flicked the little flame into the back of the bus, stepping back as the fire roared to life, destroying everything inside the little bus.

It took a few minutes for the strangers inside to start to notice the blazing fire outside; a few minutes of much needed silence alone. The strangers began coming out onto the street at a small trickle at first, but the more that came, the larger the groups became.

“Exactly what I said I’d do.” She stared at me in disbelief, “I told you to run from here, and you didn’t listen,” I took one last drag on my cigarette before dropping it, putting it out under the toe of my converse. “I told you that you couldn’t talk about this,” I stalked towards her, “I told you why you couldn’t,” I grabbed her by the front of her shirt, forcing her to meet my gaze, “and I told you what would happen if you didn’t listen.” Echo looked away, tears welling in her eyes as her gaze was drawn like a moth back to the flames.

“I had to—I—” She stopped, swallowed, and began again, looking back at me as the tears began to track down her cheeks. “They thought I was crazy, I had to prove I wasn’t,” she shook her head slightly, “You wouldn’t understand.” I laughed aloud at that, forcing her back as I let her go.

“Stop patronizing me!” She snapped at me and I closed my eyes, exhaling through grit teeth as I pressed my knuckles against my forehead, “Just because you’re too old to understand doesn’t mean you can talk down to me like I’m some child!” I don’t remember ever talking down to a child, I’ve always had a soft spot for children, but I didn’t see how that could help me at all.

“I wouldn’t understand?” I laughed again, “You’ve seen my eyes, you’ve seen them change, you have to have figured out I’m not human, like you.” Echo shrank away from me, but I wasn’t finished now she’d set me off, “You wanna talk crazy? I could turn feral any second and massacre everyone around me. You wanna talk about how the world;s turned its back on you because of it?” I laughed harshly, my teeth bared as my eyes flickered red gold, “All you have to do is keep your goddamned mouth shut and they’ll accept you.” I’d started out shouting at her, but now, my voice grew quiet, soft even, as if I was just realizing myself how much this was killing me, “but me? It’s in my genes, I can’t escape it like you can,” I forced a small, tired smile, “so I push my loved ones away, I distance myself,” I stepped back slightly as I felt myself begin to slip into oblivion, “and the more I care about them, the harder I push.” My thoughts had turned back to the rain and the Scotch, the cigarettes and the wood floor boards beneath my back.

To the oblivion and the blood.

I took a deep breath.

Echo glared at me, her pale eyes filled with anger and grief.

“Get your hands off of me!” She clawed at my fingers and finally managed to pull away, but it only took me a second to catch her again. This time, rather than continue to fight with her, I threw her over my shoulder, wincing when her shouts turned into screams so close to my ears and lancing across my vision. I finally set her down on the other side of the bus, backing her up to the wall.

“I’ll stop treating you like one when you stop acting like one,” my voice was a snarl.

Echo turned with an unintelligible exclamation and started to storm away, but once again I found myself reacting without thought. I grabbed her by the upper arm and she started shouting again, trying desperately to break my grip as I dragged her around the burning bus.

“‘How it affects everyone involved’? It put your shop on the map, it—”

“Would you shut the hell up for five seconds?” She snapped her mouth shut as I growled the words and I breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank God.” I muttered the words before looking up again, “Alright, you obviously aren’t going to turn your back on this like I told you to, but—”

There’s just so much Goddamned weight on my shoulders…

I took a deep breath.

...All I’m trying to do is live my mother fucking life…

Echo stared at me in confusion as I stepped back.

...Supposed to be happy, but I’m only getting colder…

I fished my cell phone from my pocket and checked the ID.

...Wear a smile on my face, but there’s a demon inside…

I breathed an exasperated sigh, running my fingers through my hair.

...There’s just so much Goddamned—

I answered, covering the mouthpiece with my hand for a moment as I looked back at Echo.

“Go inside, use the shop computer and take down the post. Send those people home, and then find Jesse, she’ll explain why you can’t just post these things without thinking of how it affects everyone involved.” She wore a look of furious disbelief as I started to return to the phone.

“No,” I cut her off, “I’m sorry, could you give me a moment?” I spoke quickly into the phone before shooting Echo a sharp glare, “It didn’t put my shop on the map, it caused a bunch of complete strangers to invade my home—” I broke off as the man on the phone said something I didn’t quite catch about my pups, “Wait, what?” Echo started to make some retort but I held up a finger to signal her to wait with a sharp look before turning partially away from her.

“This is Miss Reyna Wildes, correct?”

“Yes?” I swallowed a rising sense of dread.

“Your two sons, uhh,” he paused, and I could hear the rustling of papers, “Ah, how interesting, Loki and Zevi Wildes?” I hesitated a moment, not sure I wanted to hear why he was calling.

“Yes,” my voice was low, quiet with worry.

“Yes sir, I’ll be right there.” I hung up the phone and swore loudly, punching the brick wall beside me hard enough to tear open my skin and crack the brick. “I have to go.” Echo’s gaze narrowed.

“Well Miss Wildes, this is the Director at Willow Creek Academy and, well all I can really say over the phone is that your boys were involved in a fight on the playground today and... it—it’s best you just come talk to me, this is a little difficult to believe.” My sense of dread returned and I swallowed again.

It didn’t help.

“You can’t just—”

“I can and I will!” I rounded on her, cutting her off, “Go back to the shop, Echo.” My voice was a warning, and I walked away before she could respond.

-----

“So,” I paused to lick some of the ice cream from the side of my cone, “why did the bully suddenly escalate to violence?” I took another bite, “I thought they normally stuck with one method.” Loki shrugged, his mouth covered in chocolate ice cream.

When I finally finished talking to the school, I had a pretty good idea of what had happened. One of the larger boys, who the boys admitted had been verbally bullying them since they'd started there, got frustrated because Loki and Zevi would always either ignore him or, occasionally, Loki would make some smart remark right back. So he and a few others ambushed Zevi on the playground, though thankfully he wasn’t hurt beyond a few scrapes and some bruising from when they’d pushed him down. Loki, gods bless him and have mercy on whoever messes with his brother, ran to tell them off despite their size, though judging from the black and blue bruise that had quickly formed across his cheek, it hadn’t gone well. So he’d retaliated in kind, sending two of the boys to the hospital and the third home to his parents.

I was quite proud of them, actually.

And I thanked God that neither of them had changed.

Mrs. Marsh—the woman meant to be ‘supervising’ their recess—had apparently not seen any of this, but the school operated on a zero tolerance policy when it came to physical violence, and so there we were: sitting on the curb out front of an ice cream shop with heaping cones…

Of course, my swearing at the Director for not getting both sides probably hadn’t helped.

“He said now he had proof we were a family of freaks,” I stared at Zevi as he paused to wipe caramel from his mouth and lick his fingers clean for what I was pretty sure was the twelfth time he’d done it since we’d sat down, “‘cause of something called…” He trailed off, his nose wrinkling as he tried to remember. “The Echo something?” I felt my jaw tighten and I let out a frustrated growl.

“Do you know what he’s talking about, mum?” Loki spoke around his last mouthful of cone and I nodded slightly.

“Sadly.” I swallowed, “remember the woman that was in the shop this morning?” Both pups nodded, “She fancies herself a... supernatural investigator of sorts, is the best way I can think to explain it, The Echo Phenomenon is her podcast. She wrote about my last case and included at least one photo of the shop,” I paused briefly, “probably even used my name, now that I think about it.” Zevi’s milky blue eyes widened slightly and Loki swallowed his mouthful, almost immediately pressing his small fist to his forehead as the brain freeze kicked in. I climbed to my feet, popping the last of my cone into my mouth as I did so.

“Are you going to talk to her?” Loki was quiet.

“Yep,” I was trying to avoid the subject with them.

“What’re you going to say?”

“Go wash up, boys.” Loki looked a bit disappointed at the lack of answer, but still they scrambled to finish up and hurried ahead to the restroom.

-----

Most of the cars were gone when we got back, and Echo’s bus had been put out, but everything inside was black and charred. I pulled the Jeep into my space in the alley and got Loki and Zevi out of their car seats before letting them inside.

“What happened?” Michael looked up as I closed the door behind us and Jesse crouched down to fuss over the pups while she examined their already fading bruises.

“Where is she?” Both of them pointed towards the door into the shop. I paused beside Jesse as I crossed the room, placing a hand on her shoulder so that I could speak without the pups hearing. “Would you make sure they don’t go into the shop? Keep them entertained?” Jesse tipped her head slightly to one side.

“Reyna…” She spoke slowly and I forced a smile.

“I’m not going to kill her.” She raised an eyebrow and my smile slipped, “Please, Jesse, just keep an eye on them for me.” Finally she sighed, wearing a bitter sweet smile that somehow still managed to be gorgeous.

“Hi,” her voice cracked slightly when she finally fractured the silence.

“Always, Reyna,” I matched it briefly, giving her shoulder a light squeeze in thanks before I approached the door.

I paused, struggling to contain my hurricane of emotions; yes, a lot of what I was going through at this particular moment was at least in part because of Echo, but I didn’t need to take out twenty-three years of mostly hell on her simply because she was the most recent thing to screw me over.

I took a deep breath, sliding into a slightly more bitter version of the same mask I'd worn when hunting.

I found Echo pacing in front of the counter again when I finally opened the door.

She stopped when I closed it again behind me, her pale green eyes filled with guilt as she met my gaze for the briefest moment.

“Hi.” My tone was low and clipped as I leaned back against the door, crossing my arms across my chest.

“You heard the phone call I got earlier was from the director of the preschool my kids go—” I stopped, correcting myself, “went to?” She looked about to reply, but seemed to think better of it, choosing instead to simply nod slightly. “Well,” I held her gaze, “he was calling to tell me that my two year old boys had gotten into their first real fight.” I couldn’t help the brief, bitterly sarcastic smile.

“I—I’m really sorry about the post,” she started slowly, but the more she spoke the more her words seemed to run into one another, “I didn’t— I didn’t think it would go that far, or…” She trailed off when I simply continued to study her with a bored expression. “Jesse explained why you were so mad,” I raised an eyebrow at her and her voice faltered, “are—why you are so mad.” She fell silent again, worrying the hem of her shirt while the other clung protectively to her messenger bag. We stayed like that until the weight of the silence grew to be too much and Echo began to squirm, making it clear that I was going to have to say something eventually.

I exhaled slowly and Echo’s gaze snapped to me before flicking away again.

“Wh—What happened?” She spoke with more than a little hesitation.

“Zevi is blind.” She winced, “And small for his age. He was jumped by three of the larger boys. They shoved him down and Loki, being how he is, tried to stand up to them, by handling it diplomatically. They punched him.” Her eyes widened in horror.

“Oh my god.” I ignored her quiet exclamation.

“Long story short, Loki sent two of the boys to the hospital and the third to his parents with severe bruising.” She stared at me in confusion, “They’re not human, Echo. None of us here,” I gestured to the shop, “are human. You putting that thing online, it risks all of us.” Echo looked horrified.

“I—I didn’t think that—”

“No Echo, you didn’t think. You didn’t listen. That’s it. End of story. And now? My kids have it on their permanent records that they’re dangerous; they’ve been blacklisted, no school in the country will take them. Mention Jesse and her career is over no matter how good she is. Michael was in hiding. I said that I’m always cleaning up after other hunters? When hunters screw up, people die. This job isn’t like the books, it isn’t something you do as a hobby; this job is our lives. You invaded my life with that post.” I paused, letting that sink in, “And that’s not even including the hundreds of people out there that want me dead,” Okay, so hundred might’ve been a bit of an understatement when I think about it. Echo gulped.

“Reyna,” she spoke softly, “I had no idea. I’ll take it down, I swear, I was just waiting for you to come back and…” She trailed off as I shook my head, my laugh harsh.

“You still don’t get it?” Another harsh laugh, “You think taking it down now will fix it?” I shook my head, “Go, just leave.” She started to protest, but I didn’t give her the chance, “It was too late the second you hit ‘update’. What comes next? That blood is on your hands.”

#of monsters & nothing #of monsters and nothing #om&n #monster hunter #monster #echo #hunting journal

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jinmindeulle · 4 years

Text

valtameri | jwy (1)

the zeemeermin and the piraat

word count: 2.4k

pairing: jung wooyoung x reader

genre: pirate au, mermaid au, pirate!wooyoung x mermaid!reader ∣ angst, fluff

warnings: none that i had noticed?

a/n: here i am once more! lately i’ve been obsessed with ateez as pirates and mermaids so i came up with his one at 2:52 in the morning hehe! as always thanks for your support, especially to my beautiful @myghibli for creating these amazing banners ♥

a/n 2: if you wish to be part of my tag list for future updates please do not hesitate and let me know! i’ll happily add you! ♥

i highly recommend you to read the introductions first, as the story will make more sense for you with that information! read here:

ATEEZ crew

the mermaid world

link to valtameri’s masterlist here

happy reading!

A full moon was adorning the night skies, sprinkled with shining stars and no clouds in sight. The sea was calmer than it had been in months. A warm breeze caressed her wet skin, making her sigh in contentment. Those were the nights when she felt truly happy, slightly forgetting about her life deep down the blue ocean.

Leaning on the same rock as every night but still keeping her body inside the water, she fixated her eyes in the direction of the pirate ship she wished to spend the rest of her life in. Daydreaming for a moment, she imagined herself on board of the Destiny, standing on the edge of its forecastle deck, feeling the wind through her dark blue long locks while smelling the ocean breeze.

The small smile that had appeared on her lips suddenly faded away, because the tough reality hit her in the form of a green-lilac mermaid tail. Warm tears welled her eyes and slowly went down her face. However, she tried hard not to let more out when the soft sound of running water reached her ears.

That wooden little boat was making its way towards her.

She used the back of her hands to erase any sign of fallen tears on her cheeks, and the smile that she had previously plastered on her face made its way back.

“Sorry for the delay, zeemeermin. Captain needed me to set the sails properly before going to sleep.”

“It’s okay, piraat. I was just enjoying the calm water. It’s been days since the sea was this nice.”

“I know, right? Your father must be in a good mood tonight.”

His soft laugh never failed to mesmerize her. The mere sound of his voice sent chills down her spine, but his high-pitched laugh made her feel joyful. Made her feel alive. His bright eyes reflected the moonlight and looked like two big lanterns with the ability of guiding her all the way home through the wide deep ocean. However, she knew she would never need those, because his eyes were her home. His perfect plump lips formed the big bright smile that she was so used to seeing every night. That didn’t make her immune, though. By just looking at his lips, she felt the urge to feel them closer and caress them with her own. She was sure that if she dared to just touch them with her fingertips, her heart wasn’t going to be able to take it.

Even if she felt like her world was falling apart right in front of her eyes, meeting him at the same rock every night was keeping her from falling as well. The way he kept eagerly meeting her there, always bringing a new story to tell her and make her feel better — even if he didn’t know that — made her feel good. Worthy. Loved.

“Did I tell you about that time when Yunho hyung replaced me at weighing the anchor because I had back pain and fell into the ocean?” his high-pitched chuckles made a comeback as he abandoned the safety of the boat just to sit down on the huge rock. The new proximity made her take deep breaths to try and slow down her sudden rapid heartbeat, but they didn’t help as he took her hand in his and started giving it soft caresses. He kept going on and on about the hilarious happening, his eyes so scrunched up and teary while recalling that story that she had to laugh at his expression, slightly forgetting about the skin to skin contact.

“Yunho seems like someone who would do that” she laughs, enjoying the precious moment.

“I still don’t get why he insisted in doing it when all of us know that San hyung is the best at replacing me.”

“But just at your job, piraat.”

His deep brown eyes looked at her own with a glimmer that she had never seen before. They seemed to reflect surprise, happiness and a little bit of relief.

“Right” he muttered, a content grin on his lips that reached his beautiful eyes. She felt how he squeezed her hand with his, and her heart felt like it was being crushed with it.

“Do you know when is it that you’re going back to sailing in the open sea?”

She internally cursed. Why did she have to bring that up? Was it necessary to keep reminding them of their inevitable parting every time?

“Probably in two or three nights, according to Captain.”

His demeanor quickly changed, just as it did each and every time she asked him that exact same question. His eyes were now fixated in their interlocked hands, no longer looking at her with that longing expression on his breathtakingly gorgeous face.

“I wish I could go with you.” She let out a sorrowed sigh, feeling the tears welling up in her eyes once again.

“I wish you could too.” At his confession, sadness overcame her soft pretty features, making both of their hearts ache. That’s when the pirate decided that that topic of conversation had to end there. “Are you coming tomorrow with your father?”

She used her free hand to wash away the tears that clung to her eyelashes and took a glance at the pirate ship that slowly swayed far away by their side. “I think so. He told me he needed to meet up with your Captain before you leave for some exchange of gold, or something like that.”

“Yeah, Captain informed Mingi hyung about that over dinner. Is that Arnav coming too?”

That last question was thrown at her face with such distaste, that she had to look up, smiling at his disgusted expression.

“He’s father’s second hand so yeah, he is.” She grinned, pinching his cheek at his cute pouting face.

“I don’t like him. Neither does Captain or any of my crewmembers.”

“I know. I hate him too, Wooyoungie.”

His pouting lips instantly turned into a wide smile, white teeth showing from side to side. The truth is that her calling him Wooyoungie rarely happened. They were so used to referring to each other as those mysterious Dutch terms that he sometimes forgot about the joyful feeling of hearing his nickname leave her lips.

The following hour was filled with stories, laughter and slight skin to skin contact. Neither of them had dared to go further than that, even though they both were fully aware of what was going on between them. The reason behind their nightly escapades was what kept them functioning during the day, wishing deep inside that sleep time arrived soon so that they could go out of their pole opposite worlds and meet up for a couple of hours.

Sadly, the parting hour quickly arrived, and with downhearted expressions on their faces, they said their goodbyes.

“At least we get to see each other two times tomorrow” he breathed out, leaving a soft sloppy kiss on her hand. She thanked the night skies for the darkness that covered her reddened cheeks, and with a content sigh, she nodded.

“Not the same as at night but at least it’s something. Have a good night, piraat.” She muttered, watching him go back to the wooden boat. Once he was positioned, hands over the rowing sticks, he sent her one of those beautiful, heartwarming smiles and whispered “You too, y/n”, only to start rowing his way back to the pirate ship.

She stayed there, leaning in that meaningful rock until all she could see was a little dark dot climbing back to deck. As he disappeared, she decided that it was about time to go back as well.

Looking at the bright stars one last time and wishing to see them again the following night in the presence of her favorite human being, she dove all the way down the wide deep ocean to what her fellow mermaids and mermen called home. At that moment, and just like every time she thought of the term home, she came to the conclusion that her definition of that word was nothing like theirs.

The sun was up once again, reflecting over the ocean and giving it a turquoise glimmer. Far away and deep down, y/n was quietly murmuring her favorite song, sadness visible over her features. Her mother had sung it for her each and every night to lull her to sleep, especially when she was having trouble to find her way towards Morpheus’ arms. She had never felt such grief and misfortune in her entire life — even when she thought of her desire to become a pirate — than when she lost the most important being for her. Her mother got her in a way that no one had; she had held her when she felt like her mermaid body had her real self trapped inside, and had given her advice when her father declared her the next in line for ruler of the seas.

After meeting Wooyoung, y/n felt like a part of her that had long ago died with her mother was reviving, was blossoming in a new way. That pirate was giving her hope through his loving glances, warm caresses, fond smiles and reassuring words. She was sure that she was never going to be happy if she had to live like that for the rest of her life, hiding her encounters with the pirate from everyone and merely being with him for a couple of hours at night. But at least it was something. Something to which she could cling to until the string was cut off.

“Father wants us in the meeting room now.”

Her younger sister, Gali, was fluttering in front of her, a tough look in her features. Her mid-long mahogany hair floated around her head, making her look even more intimidating. When they went to the surface together, she actually seemed like a cute little mermaid, but down the sea, she could pass like a siren merely by her harsh features — which only softened when being around her crush, Arnav. Y/n had always wondered what she had done to her sister for her to hate her so much. Even after their mother’s passing, Gali had never given her a fond look or a hug. If she had doubted her mother’s fidelity to her father, she would surely believe that there was no way they could be sisters.

Gali didn’t wait for y/n’s response and just swam her way out to the meeting room. The older sister fluttered still for a couple of minutes, until she snapped out of her bubble and began swimming to the point of meeting. While she passed by all of the different buildings, she wondered if that was what humans experienced everyday on land. She had a vague idea of how life was there thanks to Wooyoung, who had showed her plenty of books with pictures and illustrations of some of the nearby islands. He had also mentioned that some people believed that deep down the ocean, a lost city called Atlantis existed. The illustrations that she had seen were actually pretty accurate, although her “city” was nowhere near that utopian society that held enough wisdom to bring world peace.

Without realizing, she reached the meeting room. Bowing to the merman guards that fluttered by the main door, she made her way inside.

Her sister was already in front of their father, using her hands to comb through her hair. Right, Arnav was there as well. The big muscular merman was discussing something with the King of the Seas, paying no attention at all to the younger mermaid who had fully blushed by just being near him. Y/n didn’t get why Gali was so deeply in love with that arrogant being. Only his worked-out torso could have made her fall for him, because his face was nothing like Wooyoung’s, and his long tail was an ugly mixture of black and green scales. Disgusting.

“Oh, good. Y/n is here”

Her father looked at her with serious blue eyes that surely took after the ocean he was born into. While staring at them, she realized that her father had never looked at her like her mother used to. Was he only able to love just his wife? Not even his daughters?

“This is going to be quick as we must go up for our meeting and exchange with the ATEEZ crew.” He stated, deep low voice resonating in every wall of the room. “You both know it by now, but you may be realizing that I am getting old and I will not be able to continue my ruling properly. As I told you years ago, y/n is to follow the linage and will be replacing me soon.” He prompted his wrinkled, large hand to Arnav’s direction and kept on talking. “However, I do not wish for her to rule alone.”

Oh, no.

Y/n’s world was already falling apart, but it just never seemed to stop.

“You may marry Arnav in the next few weeks and take my place right after the union is consummated.”

She felt like throwing up. A gasp went out of her mouth, pure disbelief, grief and desperation taking over her. She felt her tail go numb, barely holding up. The mermaid was not able to hear anything around her. Her sight was blurred, a huge lump forming in her throat.

“Ar… are you…?” y/n muttered, trying to recompose. “Are you forcing me to marry him?”

As she recovered her hearing, and although the voices still resonated far away from her, she could hear Gali crying like a baby by her side, making a fuss like she was the one condemned to a life full of lies and misfortune.

“I am not forcing you, y/n. I am looking out for you.”

Y/n felt like her whole existence was a joke, life and destiny laughing at her with joyful tears in their eyes. Tears that she would never feel if she ever married that stupid creature and stayed the rest of her life under the sea.

“Right” she let out a sarcastic laugh and waiting no response, swam away and out of her disgrace.

With full speed, one that surely was propelled by her anger, y/n made her way towards the only place she knew somebody was going to actually listen to her and help her out. That dark cave was her only way out.

next ↬ chapter ii — union

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