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sashi-ya · 6 months

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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 28: FLESHLIGHT adult! Ichigo x F! Reader x adult! Uryu

requested by: anon ➡ would you write a fic for day 28 with Uryu and Ichigo and a afab! reader? thanks! wc: mdni. ichigo and uryu are adults. threesome. using reader as "a fleshlight". DP. some homoerotic action, but very subtle (you can think what you want), oral, creampie implied. wc: 1,7k masterlist.

Drunk, but not with alcohol. Lovers, haters… enemies, brothers.

The gathering had concluded. Their friends have taken their leaves. And the last one to abandon Ichigo’s house, was, of course, Uryu.

The tangerine haired young man plays on his bed, with some particular gaming console. He bounces his right foot, as he do… unaware of the blue haze that’s about to struck him.

“Kurosaki!” he screams, snatching his Switch from his hands. Ishida, a young soon to become doctor, forces Ichigo to stand up all of a sudden from his bed.

“What the fuck? Give it back, it’s not mine!” Ichigo protests, trying to reach for the console.

Uryu puts it down the desk as well as his glasses, and immediately after pounces on his friend.

“I told you once and a thousand times to stop flirting with (Name). I fucking hate you” Uryu grunts, trying to hit his friend but getting his fists stopped by Ichigo’s quick reaction.

As the ginger boy holds the onyx haired one’s wrists, he tries to understand what was exactly happening.

Uryu seems to have tears on his eyes. After all that happened, after the emotional spiral that they both had to face when younger, this felt to the Quincy like the worst of treacheries.

“Stop. STOP ISHIDA. I haven’t been flirting with her! I am not into (Name), why are you- STOP!” Ichigo tries to inject some reason into Uryu’s mind -even if he lies-. But the Quincy looks now more like a rabid cat than a man.

“I am tired of your shit… I am- why? Why would you… I saw you hugging her, I saw her sitting on your lap tonight…” Uryu mumbles, finally falling over his friend chest. He has ran out of strength, and the depression wins against confrontation.

Ichigo sighs. He, for sure, didn’t realize how bad his actions could hurt his friend. He proceeds to place his hand on Uryu’s not so wide back and lets him calm down with the safe embrace of someone he used to hate but loves as a brother.

“It wasn’t at all my intention. I’m sorry” Ichigo whispers.

Uryu clenching to his friend’s white shirt, stays carving his nose into Ichigo’s chest.

“I know…” he murmurs, almost like a little kid.

“Ichigo I think I forgot my – oh-“ you stop yourself right by the entrance of the substitute Shinigami’s door.

Truth is, you weren’t expecting to interrupt such an intimate moment. But it certainly startled you… while it was expected for them to love each other like brothers, sharing a bed in such conditions caught you by surprise.

Immediately after, they both separate and start stuttering to explain you something. You, on your side, don’t really need much explanation… though it was a little disappointing in a way that they were together; after all, you were actually struggling because you seem to like both.

“It’s ok guys! I am not telling anyone unless you say so! I am happy for you two. I think I forgot my Nintendo switch in here, but I will text you tomorrow!” you quickly say, trying to go away as soon as possible… as much as you liked both, and the scenario represented a pleasant homoerotic imagery, you weren’t invited to their “after party”

Ichigo pushes Ishida to the side, and fast enough stops you from walking. His strong hand around your wrist, makes you internally shiver.

“Listen, you are getting it all wrong! We weren’t doing that. We were just fighting!” he tries to explain, a little too desperate for you to believe in him.

You look at him, up and down. Ichigo looks visibly troubled, his breathing accelerated, and his hand clenching to you intensifies.

Soon, he is not the only one trying to stop you from leaving… and maybe, also trying to move Ichigo away.

“(Name)! I am not into men! Much less Kurosaki… I… In fact, I…” Uryu stutters and closes his beautiful deep blue eyes for some seconds before continuing. “In fact, I am into you. I want you. We were having a discussion because of you!”

Ichigo and you widen your eyes; despite his friend knowing, it was still a big deal for Ishida to finally confess in such way.

You take some time to even react, however your eyes fix into his with shining stars.

“Uryu I… I…” you try to think for the right words; you like him, but you like Ichigo as well… and he hasn’t let you go, either.

All of a sudden, the sweet voice of Ichigo breaks the silence. While being pulled to your left by Ishida, you are being pulled by him to the right.

“(Name), I like you too!” he confesses. Leaving you all doubly perplexed. “Chose one of us, the other will back up”

Ishida, who instantly realizes he wasn’t wrong, decides to focus on you before attacking Ichigo for lying to him. While Ichigo, looks away with a slight blush on his cheeks you haven’t seen before.

A wild idea comes to your mind… why choosing, if you can have both?

“I won’t chose” you speak. They both look at you defeated. “Share me” you purr. They both let your wrists go. “I want to be used by both of you” you finish.

And with no mediation, you are surrounded by two needy creatures; both driven by desire. Apparently lust can help the differences set in between two men in a blink of an eye.

You receive kisses on each side of your neck, their playful noses inhaling the scent of your skin and sometimes their fingers even meeting as they slide on your belly.

Slowly, but surely, your clothes end up on the floor and in between kissing, biting, and moaning you fall into Ichigo’s bed.

The Quincy(ies) and Shinigami gloat to see your legs falling a little spread, your arms behind to help your back remain a little erect and the bouncing of your breasts.

“I am going first” Ichigo grunts. “No fucking way, I am going first” Uryu growls. “Didn’t I tell you I wanted for you to share me while you use me?” you moan, spreading your legs wide open to flash them with the very tempting entrance to heaven.

Ichigo and Uryu look each other, and run to you with no hesitation. Both jumped in the bed, with Ishida in between your legs and Ichigo kneeling right next to your face.

While the dark haired one fingers your entrance and uses his tongue to trace circles around your clit, you choke with the dripping merciless sex of Ichigo.

“Use her like a fleshlight” Ichigo claims in between panting, as his dick reached the back of your throat, and you gag.

Ishida stops, leaving his lips posed on your femineity as he looks at Ichigo with eyes on fire. He is probably questioning Ichigo for those words, that indeed don’t sound like him at all.

You stop the oral delight, and with lips still shiny from Ichigo’s precum you moan; “Please… let me be your fleshlight, Ishida-kun ~”

Uryu closes his eyes and sighs loudly; his breathe cools the juices of your cunt and you squirm. He then proceeds to stand up and opens his shirt, while his pants fall to the ground and are sent flying to the other side of Ichigo’s room.

The Quincy looks at you, with his dick in his hand. You are so glad to finally discover what’s beneath that particular clothes of his. His delicate hand lifts his shirt just above his belly, exposing soft marked abs over pale skin.

He then, as he kneels back in between your legs, wipes the little drops of sweat on his forehead moving his black bangs to the side.

“A fleshlight you said? Like a piece of silicone? Is that what you wanna be for me, (Name)?” he asks, serious than ever, with trembling lips of desire and want.

“Ye-yes, like your beautiful little doll to fuck, Ishida-kun” you purr, and feel how Ichigo’s fingers bury, pinching your cheeks.

“God, (Name)… how can you be that much of a slut?” he asks, pumping his dick, with the veins of his hand protruding visibly.

You smirk at him, with puppy eyes and sticking your tongue out. You are ready to receive his load on it, as well as Ishida’s sex penetrating you really good.

And it’s actually even better than what you were expecting; Ishida’s hands slide down your waist to the small of your back to lift your hips up. You can feel his hardness entering you, stretching your walls, going deeper the more he bucks your hips up… because he knows exactly how to make you moan.

“Ah… fuck…” you swear, as cumming has became an imminent happening. “Are you cuming, mh? Are Ishida’s thrusts that good, baby?” Ichigo asks, on the verge of bathing you with his seed. “Bet both dicks inside of you will feel amazing, mh?”

You turn your eyes white, imagining to be double penetrated by them had to be the last push for you to jump into the abyss of climax.

You feel the warmth blessing of the Strawberry Shinigami on your mouth, overflowing the limits of your lips and running through your cheeks, neck, chest, breasts.

You taste the salty product, and even choke with it. Uryu’s rams are violent, so improper, so out of character of what he might look like he could do… they are literally merciless; he is using your cunt as a real fleshlight.

You tremble, every muscle in your body spasms, and orgasm hits you like never before. You grip to the sheets, but regardless you cuming, Uryu keeps fucking you.

“Ishida, lay back, let’s fuck her together” Ichigo suggests -orders-; Uryu obeys, fighting on the verge of climax won’t do for him.

As his back hit the bed, Ichigo manages to crawl behind you and lifts you up from your arms. You, still cumming, almost losing conscious from overstimulation are now on top of Uryu -whose hips haven’t stopped fucking you yet-

“Now, bend a little over him (Name)” Ichigo helps you, while your arms have reached his nape from behind.

A single hand is enough for him to guide his dick inside you, shamelessly grazing his friend’s.

“Kurosaki…” Uryu grunts, staying still just enough for his shinigami friend to fit inside.

“Ishida- not now” he grunts, moving you back to the previous position. Both, inside of you, now feels like exploding your overstimulated womb. A womb asking to be blessed by more than one race…

“Guys… please, don’t stop ~” “No worries, (Name)… you are just like our favourite toy”

taglist: @miabiaria @carmenthedreamer @stygianoir @electronicwitchcollection @aizenwifey @deputy-videogamer @efrodd17 @mizugami @uzxotic @cyberdazetragedy @bookandyarndragon @fushiguroshotwife💖

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vikkirosko · 6 months

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Hihihihi :DDD

Can I request Phoenix and Miles adopting a male teen reader with a punk/gothic style? It can be seperate ofc

(because I lack a father figure in life)

Here's the background info about our spunky reader.

The reader is around 13-15 years old in foster care, he is always forced to move in with different foster houses, no matter how much he tries to prove that they can be worth something (oop abandonment issues 😜)

Basically, his parents left him in the dump when he was an infant, leading up to their arrest and losing their parental rights. Nobody in his biological family wanted to take him, thus turning him in for foster care.

The reader is the definition of a typical teen, he dyed his hair, skateboards around the streets, spray painting murals and street art with kids around his age (legally ofc).

The reader's personality really fits the whole 'Don't judge a book by its cover' thing. He's a sweet and laid back kid, often running around the streets and helping the locals with their errands. He can be cunning, compulsive, and sarcastic at times, often having witty banters with the local kids in his age.

The reader is doing his usual errands when he witnesses the murder first hand, thus turning him into a key witness to the case. And now we meet both Nick and Edgey.

They both find it surprising that he's actually very cooperative and polite in contrast to his looks.

While gathering his testimony and his background info, they learn about the reader's past and current situation.

They then started to develop a father and son relationship throughout the trial, answering the reader's questions about their work, the reader rambling on about their current interest, and even helping the reader in his homework.

After the trial concludes and fast forward to a few months later, they have a little surprise for the reader and they pull out the adoption papers.

(Yes you can adopt a child in foster care if the biological parents' rights gets terminated by the court.)

Also sorry if it's too specific Kdhdndhsk-

Platonic headcanons Don't judge a book by its cover

⚖️ Phoenix Wright x teen male!Reader 🚲

You met Phoenix during one of the investigations. You were a teenager who was problematic in the eyes of society. That's what the police thought when you told them you witnessed a murder. They didn't believe you, thinking you were trying to interfere with the investigation, but Phoenix believed you. He knew from his own experience that it was not worth judging people by their appearance, so looking at a teenager with dyed hair, in a black leather jacket and with a skateboard, he was sure that you could really help him get to the truth and protect his client

You were talking in his office and then he found out that your appearance and your character were very different. Behind the gloomy exterior was a nice guy, polite and ready to help with the investigation. You tried to tell as much as possible of what you remembered and agreed to stay in the office until the investigation was completed. Phoenix was afraid that the real killer might try to get rid of you, because you were a key witness. He offered to call your parents, but you said it wasn't necessary. You openly told him that you lived with a foster family and that they didn't care where you were if you didn't cause them problems

Phoenix sincerely sympathized with you and did not understand how it was possible to treat you like this. During the time that he conducted his investigation, you seemed to him a good child. You chatted a lot, he helped you with homework as much as he could, you talked about art, because as it turned out, it was interesting for both of you, and Maya joked that you looked like you were father and son. This confused Phoenix, but the very thought did not repel him

After the completion of the trial, Phoenix continued to communicate with you. You saw each other often and he cared about you much more than your foster parents. A few months later, he called you to his office and said that there was something important that he had to tell you. After that, he took out the adoption documents. All these few months he has been preparing everything so that he can adopt you. When you found out about it, you couldn't hold back the tears. You were happy that a real father would appear in your life who really cares about you and who loves you

⚖️ Miles Edgeworth x teen male!Reader 🚘

Prosecutor Edgeworth has always taken his job seriously. That's why when he found out that there was a witness to the murder who saw everything that happened, he decided to talk to this witness himself. He was surprised when he saw a teenager with dyed hair, a black leather jacket, pierced ears, leather bracelets with spikes on his hands and a skateboard. You were the witness

At first he thought it would be a problem to get information from you, but it turned out not to be so. You didn't hide anything and were ready to help the investigation. Miles also took a responsible approach to finding out more about you, because he could not ignore the fact that you could lie and be associated with the killer. But it wasn't like that. You were an orphan with a difficult past and an equally difficult present. That's why you preferred to be in the police station or the prosecutor's office than in your temporary home

He didn't mind you being in his office. You didn't cause him any problems, you could talk peacefully, you were a smart and polite guy, he even helped you do your homework and explained topics that you didn't understand when he had free time. Several times he took you to a cafe so that you could eat properly. He acted like he was your father. You didn't have a father figure in your life, but Edgeworth handled that role well

After the completion of the trial, the prosecutor continued to spend time with you. The police are already used to seeing you, because you often came to Edgeworth. A few months later, when you came to him, a surprise was waiting for you. Adoption documents. Edgeworth wanted to adopt you, if of course you didn't mind. He wanted to become the same person for you as his father was for him. He wanted to give you a good life and a loving family that you deserved more than anyone else

#Ace Attorney #Ace Attorney x Reader #Ace Attorney headcanons #Phoenix Wright #Phoenix Wright x Reader #Miles Edgeworth #Miles Edgeworth x Reader

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hoestories · 1 year

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34F

This past summer, I rented a house for 2 months in Miami to work on a project. My boyfriend visited me the 2nd week. We were getting frisky in the pool when the landscape/pool guy showed up. I quickly put my bikini top back on, wrapped myself in a towel and went back in the house. My boyfriend asked me what happened, and then called me a prude. It really ticked me off, maybe it was the way he said it. I’m not a prude, I just didn’t feel like having all out sex in front the guy, not the mood. Anyway, a couple of weeks later after my boyfriend left, I was laying out and working by the pool. I was wearing a one-piece suit I just bought that is low-coverage in the back (a bit like a thong) and that is also low-cut in the front to highlight my (really nice, actually) boobs. The same landscape/pool guy came to work. This time I didn’t go in and actually turned on my belly to show him my cute bubbly butt. He was definitely giving me looks. I mean, he was literally staring, haha. I walked by him and said hello when I went back in. He looked at my boobs, for sure. Because I’m no fucking prude, I concluded, I actually posted sexy selfies of my bathing suit on Instagram which I never do. My boyfriend DM’d me not 5 minutes later to take them down. I did take them down, fine, but it got me even more mad. Fast-forward to my last week at the rental, I wasn’t feeling like working and was totally bored one day. So I drank three glasses of wine mid-day, and I got incredibly horny. I didn’t have sex in weeks, so I went to the bedroom, got naked, found my dildo and started going up and down and inside out. Through the window, I saw the landscape/pool guy show up to work. I continued moving the dildo around, it felt so good. My dildo is a small 4 or 5 inches rubbery penis, which I like, so I left it inside of me for a while and just squeezed it while I gently touched my nipples and clit. That usually does the trick for me. I don’t know what got into me, but I grabbed a towel, my glass of wine and walked outside to lay on a lounge chair with the dildo still in my pussy. The guy wasn’t particularly attractive, but when he greeted me and smiled, it made me even hornier. I was squeezing the dildo harder and harder between my legs. I was moaning quietly and was really squirmy, and the guy noticed. He stopped what he was doing on the other side of the yard to look at me. I swear to god I never thought I’d do this, but I took the towel off and laid there naked in the sun, facing him. I took control of the dildo and started going in and out while pressing on my clit with the other hand. He seemed to really enjoy the show. He walked closer to get a better look, but he took out his phone like he was going to video me. It freaked me out and I covered. He saw that and put it away so quickly and walked closer to my side of the pool. I gave him a look to stay there. I then spread my legs even more, rubbed my clit harder while going in and out even faster. I don’t usually go that hard with my dildo but putting on a show was part of the turn on. He pulled his pants down, took his dick out and started stroking himself. Watching him watch me sent me over the edge. I was furiously fucking myself at this point. After a few minutes of hardcore self-fucking, I came hard from rubbing my clit, and felt another orgasm coming from the dildo action. I was moving so much that my boobs were bouncing, my whole body shook like I was having a seizure. I came again as I watched him jerk off as hard as I was and I loved seeing his cum drop into the pool. l giggled, grabbed my stuff and ran inside the house. I hope you like my little hoe story and I hope my boyfriend reads this one day. I secretly wish I let the guy take the video and posted it on Tumblr for everyone to see it. Fuck you dude for calling me a prude.

#hoe stories #hoe is life #go hoe or go home #slutty confesions #thank you!

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pharahsgf · 7 months

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Sorry to crawl into your asks but I just need to unleash this for a second but whenever people are like “Wei Wuxian is avoiding dealing with his first life! He needs to confront his trauma’s and stop acting like they aren’t there!” I’m always like bestie while avoidance isn’t a healthy coping mechanism,,,that’s also not the point??? Like WWX (in my opinion) is so five stages of grief coded and like in his second life, he’s in the acceptance stage. He regrets the losses of course, but he’s not just pretending he’s moved on? He sort of has moved on. He’s like that happened and it sucked but I’m going to focus on the present and what’s happening now the best I can and be happy with my loving husband and like that’s not perfect but its also so much healthier than what everyone else is doing??? Like there’s no xiaxia therapy but Wei Wuxian focusing on the present and not letting the past consume seems a hella of lot better than seclusion, eternal rage & plotting vengeance for like a decade? Stop trying to make the ending a secretly bad ending! It’s a happy ending because Wei Wuxian is loved and at peace in his life and that is enough for him!!! Stop putting it on him to fix all the problems of the past and let him focus on a content future and comfortable present where maybe things are perfect but he’s happy and that’s good!!! Let Wei Wi

i'd definitely put some question marks behind wei wuxian's mental health post-canon but i cannot for the life of me imagine why anyone would posit obsessive stagnation or self-flagellation as healthier for a survivor of extreme trauma than....... living a healthy life with a solid support system. especially in cql where wei wuxian literally does take the time to process everything that's happened and concludes that he'll be at his happiest by lan wangji's side like what is he doing wrong here

i feel like i've been able to observe a decent amount of the conversation on this topic (ie i avoid it like the plague and tumblr helpfully puts it on my fyp every single day) and as far as i've seen most of this ire directed at wei wuxian for 'moving on too fast' is just people who view him as a perpetrator of the tragedies that occurred being mad that he gOt AWaY wItH iT tOo and was afforded a relatively happier ending than jiang cheng, lan xichen etc. which ofc massively disregards the actual themes of the story and betrays a misunderstanding of why characters like jc and lxc ended up where they did.

wei wuxian went through way too much to end the story truly unbothered but i can't fault a trauma survivor for having to rely on potentially inadequate coping strategies in the absence of modern mental care. he ends the story the safest and most cared for he's ever been and tbh that's all that matters. Let Wei Wi

#replies #anonymous

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p5x-theories · 8 months

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In the event there's a moment similar to when Morgana leaves the thieves, in the event that it happens to Luffy I have thoughts. He doesn't seem like the type to get (I want to say) insecure or anything, so rather...

Luffy simply says he has to step out for a bit and he'll be back in a short while. This somehow evolves into him getting into some sort of wacky shenanigans that takes him days to escape from.

Or, and this is more of the serious option, he leaves to do some scoping on his own, but finds someone (potentially a future Wonder Squad member, who for this, we'll use Polter). Polter sees the app on her phone, and Luffy concludes this person might be similar to the others. He's expecting her to ignore it or try deleting the app, but instead, she taps it and goes into a Palace. This surprises Luffy as anyone else would try to ignore it or get it removed, and since Polter doesn't have a WS outfit or powers yet, she's in danger. Luffy goes in after her.

Flashforward to when the Wonder Squad investigates the palace, they find Polter and Luffy. Polter wants to be a Phantom thief and is having an absolute joy out of it (I...GUESS she somehow manifested the costume? Not sure how Haru did it but didn't awaken her Persona), while Luffy is trying to be the responsible little fella and get her out of danger. He's been at this for days. Help him.

Polter concludes that she's some sort of magical girl-esque hero and Luffy is her familiar/spirit guide, that or she isn't planning on giving up her powers. The others try talking her down, but she isn't listening and runs off, dragging Luffy away yet again. Surprisingly, she can move really fast. That or phase through walls.

Haha, that would be so funny, and I can see it happening, honestly! Whether Polter or someone else, I love the idea that Cattle just went ahead to scout or something, and gets dragged into keeping a future teammate who can't really fight yet alive in the Metaverse. Because he really would, I think!

(As for Haru's partial awakening, I believe the explanation was that she knew what she wanted on some level, but she still had reservations about it? Sort of like she found her conviction but couldn't quite commit to it yet, which we also see a bit with Sumire finding her conviction but not properly awakening because she didn't actually know who she was yet. I could see them putting another spin on this concept in P5X, or I could also see Cattle just doing a better job protecting them than he did Wonder at the beginning, haha, and accidentally not giving them the chance to fully awaken.)

#theories #cattle #polter #etriansquad-yssey

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thetypedwriter · 2 years

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The Final Gambit Book Review

The Final Gambit Book Review by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

This book was so bad, but I loved it anyway.

It was like witnessing a slow moving, inevitable car-crash. Or watching a new episode of The Bachelor. Same thing.

In many ways, this book was poorly written, terribly developed, too fast-paced, lacked characterization, missed depth, and was laughably ridiculous.

However, I found it so entertaining.

The Final Gambit is the third and final installment in The Inheritance Game trilogy. If you go back and read my previous reviews on the first two, many of my critiques are the same for the third.

This concluding novel solves the final mystery of Avery Kylie Grambs, who became the sole inheritor of Tobias Hawthorne’s fortune of billions in the first novel. Along with the billions, Avery also received death threats, myriad enemies, puzzles upon riddles, and complicated relationships with the four Hawthorne brothers: Nash, Grayson, Jameson, and Xander.

I won’t describe the first two books in detail because that would take forever (and if you’re reading this, you probably already have some idea of what’s going on).

This book immediately picks up where the last book left off. The overarching mystery of why Tobias Hawthorne picked Avery over his four grandsons to become his inheritor influences every other mystery the book presents. It finally gets solved as Avery and company work through the final puzzle.

Without a doubt, the best part of this book are the puzzles. Without it, this book is nothing. They’re not even particularly clever or well-written, but they are fun. This book, perhaps more than any other, has made me realize how far and how successful a book can be based on a titillating plot alone.

The riddles involve chess sequences, twisting hidden handles, allusions to biblical passages, vintage wines, words etched in gems, and breaking into tombs. The riddles, along with the incredibly short chapters, keep you going as a reader, even though it’s a detriment to the story as a whole.

For example, there were places and scenes that Barnes really should have written out and shown to the readers and just…didn’t. The whole beginning with Jameson taking Avery out for her birthday was simply summarized and never actually shown. This is a terrible choice as a writer as it takes away any hint or flavor of nuance from the plot and characters.

Even Jennifer Lynn Barnes seems to be aware that the puzzles and mystery are the best parts of her novel as anything else she focuses on, fails utterly. Her characters are unbelievably weak, unimportant, and all blend together.

Avery has no characterization other than being unrealistically altruistic and intelligent. This is a complete shame considering she’s the main character and we’ve spent hundreds of pages in her head.

Her sister doesn’t matter at all. I can’t even recall her name one day later which is just pathetic. Avery’s best friend Max shouldn’t be in the story. I actually have no idea why she is other than Barnes trying to show that Avery has friends outside of her feeble romances. Barnes doesn’t even do it successfully as Max plays no crucial role in any way shape or form.

The four brothers probably have the most characterization, which is deplorably sad seeing as they’re as one dimensional as a sheet of paper. Even at the end of book three, I can hardly tell Jameson and Grayson apart which is a huge problem.

Jameson’s only defining characteristic is that he’s hungry (which Barnes reminds you of a hundred times) and that Grayson wants to be perfect, but isn’t. Also Grayson has icy-colored eyes. Barnes never lets you forget that. Nash continues to be a ridiculous cowboy for no apparent reason and Xander’s cheer and extroversion make him as complex as a cookie.

Other characters including extended members of the Hawthorne family, the Laughlin family, and Thea and Rebecca are so unimportant and forgettable that I won’t even discuss them further.

The characters in The Final Gambit Do. Not. Matter. At. All. At all, at all. I can’t stress this enough. If Barnes didn’t already have a horde of nameless characters, she decided to add more to the shapeless batch in this novel.

Arguably, two of the biggest characters she introduced were Eve, granddaughter of Tobias Hawthrone, and Vincent Blake, supposedly Tobias Hawthorne’s greatest enemy and yet no one we have ever heard about before in any of the novels.

These characters were…lame. That’s the best word I can use to describe them. Barnes needed a big bad for the last novel which just so happened to be Vincent Blake—another intelligent, cocky old man that underestimates Avery because she’s young and female.

Barnes’ characters are so…bad. They lack any depth, complexity, growth, or development. The relationships between any and all of them was paltry at best. Barnes tries really hard to make you as a reader think they matter and that they’re super convoluted with deep emotional ties.

They’re not.

I can’t say anything else more about the characters than I already have. Apart from the characters (or lack thereof), the other aspect of the book I found inadequate was Barnes’ writing itself. It read as very juvenile, simplistic, and repetitive.

Now, I’m not saying you have to be Shakespeare in order to be a good writer.

Benjamin Alire Sáenz, for example, author of Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe is an incredible writer that uses very basic language. And yet, every chapter of his packs a punch of emotion and heart.

Barnes’ writing does not.

It doesn’t pack anything at all except to explain herself a million times over and over again and tell us that Grayson has gray eyes and a stiff body.

The amount of times she would repeat certain lines from her own story aggravated me to the nth degree. It was incredibly annoying and also needlessly useless. It made the book longer than it needed to be and she would also flashback to things that literally just happened.

Absurd.

I’ve complained a lot about this book, but like I said at the beginning, I still found it enjoyable despite myself. Normally, every single aspect of this book would make me hate it. Because it’s so fun and entertaining to try and solve the puzzles and watch them unfold though, the book overall gets a wobbly thumbs up from me.

Just keep in mind that fun is all this book has to offer.

The second you want more from the characters, plot, or development, you will be disappointed.

Recommendation: Barnes really should write crossword puzzles for The Washington Post with all of her riddles and puzzles and clues. Books? Not so much.

Score: 7 (really should be a 6, but you saw why above).

#the final gambit #the inheritance games #the inheritance trilogy #Jennifer Lynn Barnes #ya fiction #YA Books #YA literature #book blog #book review #favorite books #top books #popular fiction #Popular Books #Book Recommendations #book rec #YA Book Review #book recs #7/10

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fantastic-bby · 2 years

Text

The King and His Angel Teaser

Jung Wooyoung got taken in by his uncle when he was eight. He learned how to ride his first bike at thirteen. He attended his first race when he was sixteen. His uncle died when he was eighteen. He bought his own bike when he was twenty.

Wooyoung’s 25 now and his life seems to have only begun.

Pairing: Street Racer!Wooyoung x Street Racer/Doctor!Yeosang

Word count: 1601

Warnings: -

...

“I have plans with a friend,” he shakes his head. She pauses in her movement, hand pulling out of the beige handbag slowly. Wooyoung gives her a strange look when she looks him up and down before gasping.

“You’re going on a date, aren’t you?”

“W-What?!” Wooyoung exclaims. “No, I’m not!”

“Oh my god, you actually are.” Her jaw drops as she watches Wooyoung frantically move around, amusement written on her face. “I was just messing with you to see how you’d react, but it seems like I was actually right.” Wooyoung purses his lips together and looks away, failing horribly at trying to hide the way his face and ears turn red. “So, who is it?”

“I-I don’t know if I wanna say…” he trails off. Wooyoung honestly doesn’t know how she would react if he told her that it was the same man who would partially be responsible for whether or not her company successfully partners with an entire hospital.

But then there’s also the factor that Wooyoung would actually be explicitly coming out to her himself.

“They're somewhat part of this field.” Wooyoung’s words come out slowly—carefully—trying not to accidentally say something he would have to further explain.

She narrows her eyes suspiciously but shakes her head with a smile, “that’s fine. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to; I was just teasing. Just ride safe and let me know when you’ve gotten home.”

“Okay,” he nods. “Oh, where do I leave the coat?” Wooyoung still has on the borrowed coat that his mother keeps lending him, but the woman gives him a look, tilting her head as though she’s visually analysing him for a moment.

“Keep it,” she concludes. “It looks good on you. Almost like you had chosen it yourself.”

Wooyoung pauses before he looks down at the long black coat hanging from his shoulders. It fits him more than the coat that he had borrowed the first time he had visited the office, which honestly makes him wonder whether she had specifically bought it for him.

“It’s starting to get colder anyway. You’ll need it when winter comes,” she says with a fond smile on her face.

“Is it Autumn already?” Wooyoung mutters, hit with the strange realisation that the seasons are changing way faster than he had initially thought.

Time is moving way too fast for Wooyoung to keep up and now he remembers that he’s known Yeosang for almost four months.

“Time moves a lot faster when you’re older,” she claims with a chuckle. “Before you know it, you’re in your mid forties, with a family and leading an entire company.”

“You make it sound like you blinked and now you’re here,” he laughs.

“I really might as well have,” she sighs. She loses herself in her thoughts for a moment. Wooyoung stays silent as she stands still before she smiles, “that’s how life works. Let me know when you’re free so that we can have dinner together. Kimmy just messaged me asking whether you’re coming for dinner.”

“Did you ever tell her who I was?”

“A few times before,” she nods.

“I’ll text you on a day where I don’t have anything going on,” Wooyoung reassures her. “I’ve had to move almost half of my morning shifts to the evening so that I’m more free in the day. Hasn’t really given me time to race,” he explains as he follows her out of the room and towards the lift.

“Are you managing alright? Overall, I mean.”

“It’s been alright,” he shrugs. “I visited Uncle’s grave a while ago… with the person.”

“They accompanied you to his grave?”she repeats.

“Yeah,.” Wooyoung nods. “They were the one that actually offered to come with me. I told them I was thinking of going and they immediately asked if I wanted them to keep me company. I like them a lot,” he mumbles.

The confession leaving past his lips makes the back of his neck and his ears heat up, hand raising to rub at the growing blush. If Wooyoung’s being honest, he hasn’t even told San or Mingi about the relationship he’s built with Yeosang, and he sure as hell isn’t ready to tell her that he’s gay.

“They sound wonderful,” she hums.

“They really are.”

There’s a fond smile that lingers on Wooyoung’s face as he leans against the glass wall of the elevator, the smile making his mother smile as well. The more she stares at him, the more she’s reminded of herself when she was younger.

That feeling of being so infatuated and in love with someone without even realising it until you’re so far deep that it feels impossible to actually come back out of it.

“If you really like this person, hold onto them,” she says after a moment. “Hold onto them for as long as you’re able to.” Wooyoung doesn’t face her when he nods.

“I’ll try.”

Wooyoung:

I’m coming back late I have a thing with Angel

Changbin:

Just say you’re getting laid and go, dude

Wooyoung:

I’M NOT

Changbin:

Uhuh “A thing” Sure

Wooyoung:

… You’re only getting microwaved dinners from now on

Changbin:

Suck my dick I have Jeongin’s grandma right downstairs and she makes the cosiest mac and cheese ever

Wooyoung:

I hate you sm

Changbin:

“Oh wow,” Wooyoung breathes out as he pulls his helmet off. Yeosang had taken him to a market further into town where the streets are busier and the lights are just a bit brighter.

“It’s here every night,” Yeosang says as he gestures to the market. “It’s a lot of street food, but if you’d prefer, we can stop by somewhere else…” he trails off with his body language becoming more awkward.

Wooyoung quickly grabs onto his wrist and shakes his head, “I don’t mind. I think it’s nice.” Yeosang visibly relaxes as he smiles.

"In that case, fancy a walk through to see what they have to offer?" Yeosang gestures his hand to the market and Wooyoung excitedly nods, unknowingly still holding onto his wrist.

The blond leads him into the market, stopping at a few food stalls and a few accessory stalls.

“You’d look cute in this,” Wooyoung claims as he lifts a plastic tiara off of the table and onto Yeosang’s head. “See? Like a prince!”

“Come on,” Yeosang scoffs as his face starts to turn red. He pulls the tiara off and places it back onto the table.

“You’re handsome enough to be one, you know?”

“Stop,” he grumbles as he pushes Wooyoung’s hand away. He tries to poke Yeosang’s cheek, only to earn another swat. “Let’s see you in one, huh?”

“Oh, I’d be more than happy to do so,” Wooyoung smirks as he picks one of the tiaras up and places it on his own head. “I’m a pretty little princess, aren’t I?” Wooyoung even takes the extra step in picking up one of the pink hairpins and clipping it into his hair, “Yeosang, aren’t I pretty?”

Yeosang stares at him with his mouth open, baffled at how far Wooyoung’s willingly taken the gag. “Wow,” he laughs.

“Yeosangie,” he coos and takes a step closer, “it even lights up!” Wooyoung presses a button on the plastic tiara and the bright LED lights in the pink gem lights up.

“Oh my god,” Yeosang cringes as he takes a step back. “I’m gonna pretend I don’t know you.”

“But I look so pretty!”

“You can stay here and play with the pretty tiaras. I’m gonna look around to see if I can find something for my mother,” Yeosang chuckles as he takes a step back, which only makes Wooyoung let out another laugh before he puts all of the accessories back down onto the table.

“What does she like? Maybe there’s something here that suits her.”

“She keeps saying that she likes whatever I give her, but I know that she really likes anything golden.”

Wooyoung links his arm with Yeosang’s and proceeds to pull him about the place aimlessly. There really isn’t any sort of direction as to where they’re going or what they really want to get, but they stop to see everything.

The buzz of the market fills both mens’ bodies the longer they spend there and it gives Yeosang the chance to see Wooyoung’s eyes glow in a way that he’s never seen before; a glow that he’s so fucking grateful to see.

After months of knowing Wooyoung and seeing how he seems to lack any sort of glow; how he just seems to carry himself around the place like his body is some sort of an empty shell without any life in it.

But now, Yeosang sees life behind Wooyoung’s eyes.

And it’s fucking beautiful.

He doesn’t even realise that he’s been staring at the biker for way longer than what is considered normal, but Yeosang doesn’t turn away even when Wooyoung turns to look at him questioningly.

“Got something on my face?” he asks as he raises the sleeve of his coat to wipe at his cheeks; thinking maybe there’s tteokbokki sauce remaining on his face.

Yeosang shakes his head with a laugh as he raises his own hand to grab onto Wooyoung’s wrist, pulling it down to his side with a fond smile on his face, “you’re beautiful, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung’s eyes widen immensely, face turning red and mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Yeosang keeps the smile on his face.

“W-Wha—”

“I don’t think you realise just how beautiful you look like this,” Yeosang continues.

“Like what?”

“Happy.”

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adamwatchesmovies · 1 year

Text

Fast & Furious 6 (2013)

I don’t want to make excuses for Fast & Furious 6 but it's endeared itself to me enough that I will anyway. All of this film’s problems are not its fault; they’re issues the previous installments in the series brought and this one is stuck fixing. Though not as good as Fast Five, this is nevertheless a worthwhile sequel that delivers fast-paced action, good humor and plenty more of the characters we’ve come to love.

Dom Toretto (Vin Diesel) and his “family” have become fugitives after the events of the Rio heist (see Fast Five). Then, they're approached by DSS agent Luke Hobbs (Dwayne Johnson) with an offer they can't refuse. He promises them amnesty and information on a woman who appears to be Letty (Michelle Rodriguez). In exchange, all Brian (Paul Walker), Mia (Jordana Brewster), Roman (Tyrese Gibson), Tej (Ludacris), Han (Sung Kang), Gisele (Gal Gadot) and Dom have to do is capture former special ops soldier Owen Shaw (Luke Evans).

The film’s biggest problem is that 6 in Fast & Furious 6. All of the bonuses from an established franchise also come with a lot of baggage. Letty was killed in Fast & Furious so to explain how she can be here again, the film has to spend time explaining how she developed amnesia. We know from Tokyo Drift that Han was alone in Tokyo before he died. This means the romantic plot between him and Gisele must be developed further, reach its peak and conclude in this film. These are speed bumps along the racetrack but the upside is the damage has been dealt with. That final scene during the end credits confirms we are now moving on. Not that what we saw here was bad. Actually, it’s quite good overall.

Justin Lin continues to show off his growing directorial skills. There are A LOT of characters here but they’re extremely well juggled, often in clever ways. Through the way Tej and Roman joke, you understand them as individuals, and as part of a team. By contrasting the relationship between Letty & Dom and Mia & Brian, you understand how far these people have come, and where they want to go. Gisele and Hobbs’ new DSS partner Riley Hick (Gina Carano) come up with a plan that’s radically different from the boys’, showing you how resourceful these unconventional heroes can be. If you’ve got a favorite, no problem. Everyone gets a chance to shine.

With so many heroes… how does the villain fare? Quite well, surprisingly. Owen Shaw is a great heel because his schemes always kinda go according to plan. He’s continuously putting our heroes in some kind of gambit where both outcomes will somehow benefit him. His criminal associates are "evil versions" of the Fast and Furious gang, making the relationship between the heroes make you "understand" the villains too. Credit to the casting director for finding a big dude so big he dwarfs both Vin Diesel and Dwayne Johnson.

While the 130-minute running time may seem unnecessary, it’s a breeze to get through. You love the characters and when they are pitted against the villain, it’s exciting. While this picture’s climax may not beat the Rio heist, it comes damn close. The action is varied, with both serious and comedic hand-to-hand combat sequences, the series’ trademark scenes of car pornography and rip-roaring chases too. This is the kind of sequel you wish all sequels could be like. It retroactively fixes/improves the previous chapters, delivers more of what you want to see and – most importantly – perfectly understands what the series needs. (Theatrical version on Blu-ray, November 2, 2018)

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bbyheedeungie · 3 years

Text

The Lost Girl | Peter Pan! Ni-Ki AU

Pairings: ni-ki x reader

Genre: angst, fluff, fantasy

Warnings: Mentions of depression and anxiety. Please read with caution. And if you're ever going through smtn rn, you can always talk to me :)

"Take my hand, we'll fly off to somewhere you will never have to face your problems ever again." The strange boy offers, his eyes glinting with mischief. And without any hesitation, you entrust him with your life as you jumped off your window and into his arms, joining him in his flight back to Neverland.

———

Life sure does sucks sometimes, well— most of the time. After your parents' divorce, you were left in your mother's custody due to your father's infidelity. Don't get it wrong, you loved both of your parents dearly despite their flaws. But loving them separately, it takes a lot of time to get used to. And with your failing grades and getting diagnosed with anxiety, you conclude that life is indeed a bitch.

Tonight was one of those nights. Helpless nights where you're curled up in the corner of your room, contemplating if your life was even still worth living. The emptiness inside you felt like a black hole, consuming you from the inside until you can't breathe.

You wanted to reach out to someone, anyone.

Please, help me. You felt like drowning, mind clouded with so much darkness.

So dark, please get me out of here.

But then a spark of light danced in front of your eyes, you thought you were seeing things. You blinked once, twice, thrice, all the while keeping your eyes trained on the tiny light's movement as it circled around your room and then finally, landing on the palm of the boy who stood by your windowpane.

Your heart leaped from your chest, quickly standing up from your crouched position.

"Who are you?" You demanded, but in a hushed tone.

"You're tired of living, aren't you?" he asks you back. His lips curling upwards just enough to become a smirk.

"So what if I am? Are you gonna murder me?" You spat, but actually fearing for your life for once.

"Oh no, no. I can't murder you, you're going to be my new playmate." He says, now striding towards you.

"We're too old to play. Stop fooling around and tell me what you want from me." You said, gritting your teeth. You were trying to be tough, but the boy seems to be seeing through your facade as he leans down to your height and taps on your nose lightly.

"Cute. I'm definitely going to keep you." He mumbles to himself, smiling wickedly.

At this point, you were unsure if you were delusional or just dreaming. Either way, everything felt so real. From his touch, to the many emotions he was making you feel. Fear, confusion, curiosity.

The blonde boy pulls away, suddenly walking towards the window. Everything was happening so fast, next thing you knew he'd jumped off.

"Wait, no!" You panicked, immediately running towards the window and looking down to where he was supposed to have fallen. Cold, crisp air enveloped you, making you shiver.

He wasn't there, you panicked until you looked in front of you where the boy floated in mid air.

"You're.." You trailed off in disbelief. I have got to be dreaming.

"Live a little, Y/N. You'll see, it's not so bad." He says, moving closer to you. You stood there frozen, unable to comprehend what is happening.

"How do you know my—" He cut you off by offering his hand. Was he actually asking you to jump off the freaking window? Your apartment was at the 4th floor of the building. But if this is just a dream, then why not ride along right? But there was also the thought that maybe this is it, maybe he's the voice in my head coaxing me to finally take my own life.

"Take my hand, we'll fly off to somewhere you will never have to face your problems ever again. We call it the Neverland." The strange boy offers, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"But how do I do that? How to I fly?" You ask him, still unsure.

"Just think happy thoughts and have faith in yourself. You can do it, I believe in you." He smiles warmly, and your heart fluttered, actually feeling reassured. But there's still one more thing.

"Uhh, hate to break it to you, but having happy thoughts isn't really my forte, depression and all." You say hopelessly. He shooked his head.

"Just because you're not happy now, doesn't mean you were never happy at all. Come on, there must be something you have somewhere, a happy memory." He coaxes you. You think of that time when your parents' would surprise you with breakfast in bed for your birthday every year until last year when they separated. They'd sing you a happy birthday, and they'd envelope you with their warmth as they hugged you. You'd laugh together and joke around.

"Close your eyes, keep on remembering that memory, and just believe." With a deep intake of breath, your knees buckled in fear yet you do as he says and without any hesitation, you entrust him with your life as you jumped off your window and into his arms, joining him in his flight back to Neverland.

"That's it, you're doing it sweetheart. You can open your eyes now." Your eyes fluttered open, bewildered by the sight of city lights so far down below. The boy has released you from his arms, now only holding you by the hand as he leads you. Your flimsy night gown did nothing much to shield you from the chilly air, making you shudder.

"Magical isn't it?" He says, looking down below as well before capturing your eyes with his. Your heart thumped in your chest, blood rushing to your cheeks as you looked away.

He looked ethereal, with the wind in his blonde hair and the moonlight making his skin appear translucent. He was magical himself.

"I never got name, yet you know mine." You stated, and he shot you another one of his mischievous grins.

"My name? They call me Ni-Ki." He says simply. You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Who calls you tha—"

"Hang on tight!" The boy shouts in excitement. Suddenly the direction of the wind changed, but you couldn't pinpoint it. Around you, the night sky and the lights below had morphed into an abstract of colors.

"What's happening?" You screamed.

"We're entering Neverland!" He replied.

Your flight became turbulent, as if stuck in a whirlwind as the colors became more and more vivid until finally engulfing you whole. You shut your eyes, kinda believing this is where you die. Yet once you opened them again, you were met by the sun shining brightly upon an island down below.

"Welcome, milady. I hope you enjoy your stay here." Ni-Ki let go of your hand briefly just to bow courteously in a joking manner. You snorted, laughing heartily then eyes widening at the sound you just made. It's been so long since you've last heard your own laughter. The boy seemed to be aware of this, with the proud smile on his face yet he said nothing.

"Come on, I'll introduce you to the others." He led you down to the shore, guiding you as you land gently on the warm sand. From there on, you walk towards the jungle. You would've mistaken this place as another country back in your world if only there weren't pixies flying around. You stare at them in awe as the gorgeous little creatures waved at you.

My dream just keeps getting weirder and weirder. You think to yourself, still not fully convinced that this is real.

In the middle of the jungle, there is a clearing where a snug little cabin stood. The both of you stopped at your tracks.

"Lost boys, assemble!" Ni-ki suddenly shouted, making you flinch slightly. Out of nowhere, boys came out from all directions.

Two of them jumped off a tree, one crawled out of the bush, one simply just walked out of the cabin with another boy following behind with his mouth stuffed and you lost track of the others as all of them tackled Ni-ki into the ground.

"Ni-ki! How was your trip?" They asked.

"I was gonna get to that." He said, pushing the boys off him and getting up.

"Everyone, this is Y/N. She's going to be a lost boy." He announces, and the boys made sounds of protests.

"But she's a girl!" One of them whined.

"A lost girl, then. So be nice to her." Ni-ki shrugs.

"This is Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Jungwon, and Sunoo." Ni-ki introduces. You spoke a soft hello as they gathered around the two of you.

"I wonder why Ni-ki chose you." Jay says, examining your features. You blink at him in confusion.

"Is she just like us?" Asks Jungwon.

"Sure is." Ni-ki confirms, and suddenly you were engulfed in a group hug.

"I'm so sorry." Jungwon says, patting you on the back.

"There there, you'll be happier here with us!" Jake exclaims. You wanted to ask what they meant, but decided against it.

"So how old are you guys?" You asked instead, and they laughed at this.

"Don't ask, we don't know either." Jake says jokingly.

"Who needs to keep count when we're not going to age anyway?" Sunoo says, munching on a piece of bread. You were about to answer when Ni-ki butted in.

"Guys, guys, mind if I borrow Y/N for a while? Just to show her around." The boys look at him teasingly.

"Okay, show Y/N around then." Sunghoon says with a smirk, implying something else.

"You just want her all to yourself." Jungwon says, sticking his tongue out childishly in which Ni-ki replied in the same manner.

Once the two of you are far enough from the rowdy group of boys, Ni-ki decided to break the silence.

"Sorry about them, you'll get used to them soon enough though." He says, scratching the back of his neck. You chuckled.

"I like them." You confessed and his face lit up at this.

"Really? I mean, they are like my family but I do admit they are very chaotic." He rolls his eyes, the smile never leaving his lips.

"They're great people, this whole experience has been wonderful, Ni-ki. Thank you." You say truthfully. Ni-ki stops to face you, stepping closer.

"If that is so, then you want to stay here right?" He asks hopefully, taking your hand in his.

"In here, you don't have to be sad anymore. We can go on many adventures, we'll just play around and never have to worry about anything. Don't you want that, Y/N? Don't you want to be a lost girl?" He continued.

"I don't know, Ni-ki." You say, conflicted as emotions stirred inside you.

"Please, won't you stay with me? If not, just say the word and I can take you back if you really wish to." Ni-ki says, leaving the decision up to you.

#enhypen #enhypen ni-ki #enhypen riki #nishimura riki #enhypen au #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #kpop imagines #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen jay #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen jungwon #enhypen sunoo #kpop au #enhypen fantasy au

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ssahoodrathotchner · 3 years

Text

Pictures of You

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: you lose your memories of the last few years, including the ones of your relationship with Aaron. The rest of the team thinks it’s hilarious.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: memory loss, swearing, some angst, hospital, talk of injuries, team shenanigans and fluff

A/N: okay this was a lot of fun to write bc soft!Hotch rights !! also really wanted to make the team play a larger role in a fic so here we go :)

Masterlist

---

You wake in a hospital bed, Morgan by your side, and a godawful pounding in your cloudy head. With a groan, you try to raise one of your hands to cover your eyes as Morgan’s head shoots up to stare at you with a relieved smile.

“Hey,” he says, catching your hand before you can lift it higher, “Don’t do that. You had a nasty fall, Princess.”

Satisfied that you won’t make any more moves towards your head, he sits back down at your side.

“Should I even ask how you’re doing or…” he trails off when you glare at him. “I’ll go let the team know you’re okay. Boss Man will be happy to hear you finally woke up,” and with that, Morgan is up and out of the room before you can even open your mouth because what.

Shifting around in the bed, you try to gauge just how injured you are, but the soreness in literally your entire body coupled with the haziness in your mind from the constant pain makes you conclude that you’ll leave it to the doctors to tell you what’s wrong. Sighing, you gently tilt your head to the side and observe the various beeping monitors.

The door opens and as you turn to see who it is, your mouth opens in disbelief. There’s no way. There’s absolutely no fucking way. This is fake. This is a dream. Your stomach simultaneously drops and fills with dread. How is this possible?

“You’re dead. You’re dead. We buried you,” you say in a rush, as none other than Emily fucking Prentiss stops by the side of your bed, looking at you confusedly. “Does this mean I’m dead? Are you a ghost?” you wonder out loud, and Emily looks behind her as the rest of the team, except Hotch, file in behind her, seemingly fine with her sudden appearance.

“How are you here, why are you here, what happened? You died. You’re supposed to be dead which means I’m probably dead,” you continue to ramble, frantically looking from at each member of your team and then back to Emily.

“What? Y/N, you aren’t dead. Just like I’m not dead,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“But you are,” you say shakily, chest tightening as your breaths become shorter and shorter.

“Y/N…” she says slowly, softly, “I faked my death four years ago.”

And with that, your ears rush and your mind goes blank. No no no no no no we buried her six months ago, she’s dead. You don’t notice the rest of the team trading glances around you as the world you thought you knew shatters and reforms in your mind.

“No,” you croak, throat suddenly constricting, but Emily only looks at you worriedly, Reid slipping out the door behind her.

“Y/N, can you take some deep breaths for me?” and your head turns to find JJ at your other side, hand on your shoulder. “Let’s breathe, you can do this,” she says, taking exaggerated breaths to demonstrate, smiling gently as you cooperate.

Reid enters, now, followed by a doctor who, immediately upon reaching your side, proceeds to shine a light in your eyes and asks you to complete all sorts of short tests while the team looks on.

“Now, Agent Y/L/N, Dr. Reid informed me that you seem to be having some memory issues, which is normal,” the doctor assures you, “especially with the head trauma you endured. So, tell me what you can remember and we’ll go from there,” he says with a helpful smile.

Fuck. What do you remember?

“Well…” you trail off, trying to pin-point an exact moment. “I remember Emily—Agent Prentiss’—funeral because it was six months ago, but apparently—” your eyes slide over the rest of the team, “—apparently, it was more like four years ago,” you finish slowly.

“And that’s as recent as you can remember?” the doctor pushes. You nod your head. “Well, Agent Y/L/N, it seems that you have post-traumatic retrograde amnesia, which isn’t a surprise, as I said before. My guess is that it’s temporary, and that you’ll recover your memories in time.”

“Any ideas how long?” Emily speaks up, carefully looking at your face.

“With cases such as these, there isn’t a definite timeline or standard procedure for memory recovery,” the doctor explains. “It may help to look at photos or videos and tell stories to try and help Agent Y/L/N heal quicker, but the brain is tricky,” and with that wonderful statement, the doctor turns and exits, leaving you and your team staring at each other, processing the fact that you don’t know when you’ll get your memories of the last four freakin’ years back.

“So, from the research I’ve done, it seems that—” Reid is cut off by the door flying open and Aaron Hotchner, your Unit Chief, bursting into the room with a concerned look on his face wearing a hoodie and jeans.

Morgan tries to grab his shoulder, but Hotch shakes him off as he walks right up to your bedside and grabs your hand. Holy shit. Heat rises to your cheeks instantly and you think your heart might have actually skipped a beat but, you can’t help it, you’ve had a crush on Hotch for ages and he’s holding your hand. But you don’t remember a time when Hotch was so forward in showing concern for one of his agents.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, Sweetheart—” you’re pretty sure you’re dreaming because Hotch has never called you Sweetheart. Ever. You’ve also never seen him in anything other than a suit. “—Jessica called because Jack has the flu and then he wanted to talk to me and—”

“Hotch!” Morgan all but yells, interrupting Hotch’s update on Jack, as you stare pointedly at his hand, still holding yours, trying to control the redness growing steadily stronger in your cheeks. What the hell.

“Hotch,” Morgan states, softer this time, “The last thing Y/L/N remembers clearly is Prentiss’ funeral.”

You look up with a weak approximation of a smile, and watch Hotch’s face shift as he comprehends what Morgan said.

“That was years ago,” he says slowly, face hardening into a look you’ve seen too many times when he tries to separate himself from the information he’s received.

Looking down at you, you can’t tell what he’s thinking, so you divert your eyes to his hand in yours. Once he notices this, he gently lets go and you know it’s silly, but you almost reach out for it again. Who knows the next time Hotch will want to hold your hand?

“So you don’t…” he doesn’t finish his question, which leaves you even more confused. Don’t what…?

“Umm. If it’s happened in the last four-ish years, then umm… Then I probably don’t remember it,” you say quietly, apologetically. “Sir,” you add on quickly, not wanting to forgo formalities even if your memory isn’t what it’s supposed to be.

However, instead of nodding, like you thought he would, Aaron Hotchner looks sad which confuses you even more.

“Aaron,” Rossi begins slowly, “the doctor said that talking about what’s happened since then may help Y/N’s memory come back.” Hotch looks up, almost relieved. “So why don’t you tell her something that’s happened since Prentiss’ funeral.”

And with that, Hotch takes a breath before reaching across your body to your other hand and holding it up. Not quite sure what’s happening, you allow him to hold your left hand up in your line of vision and that’s when you notice a fucking wedding ring. On your hand. Which Hotch is holding.

“I’m married?” you screech, looking at the team, who are now all trying not to laugh for some reason. “Who am I married to? Holy shit, what?” you continue looking around. Morgan and Prentiss look like they’ll break into outright laughter any minute. What’s going on?

Looking helplessly to Hotch, who is suspiciously quiet, you don’t have to repeat your question before he is carefully letting go of your left hand to hold his own up next to it and since when did Hotch wear a wedding band? Until you notice the striking similarities between the ring on your hand, and the one on your boss. What the actual fuck.

“We’re married?” you say, whipping your head to the side—ouch—to stare at Hotch, who is looking a little more amused than worried. “What? When? I just…” you can’t even finish your train of thought because your head is spinning so fast.

“Is it really that much of a surprise, Princess?” Derek chimes in. “I mean, you guys have been in love with each other forever,” and with that, he and Prentiss dissolve into a fit of laughter, which they try to smother, but you’re too busy taking in this very new and very interesting life development.

At some point in the last couple years, you married Hotch. Which means he knows you like him. And he likes you. You dated Hotch and now you’re fucking married. And you can’t remember any of it.

“…I don’t remember it…” you say sadly, softly and the laughter ceases.

Running a hand through his hair, Hotch takes a step back and shrugs, a small, reassuring smile on his face.

“We’ll figure it out, Sweetheart—” your stomach erupts into butterflies, “—we always do.”

With a sigh, you sink back into the pillows on your bed and stare at the ceiling, head throbbing worse than before thanks to all the new information.

“I just…” you pause to think about your current dilemma. “I just don’t know where to start with all this…Getting my memory back,” you look to Hotch and then the team, unsure of what to do.

“Well, the doctor did say that photos and videos might help. I’d be willing to recount every conversation we’ve had since Emily’s funeral, if you want, including the ones that you weren’t a part of, but were about you or a case,” Reid offers with a grin, and your heart melts.

Slowly shaking your head, you answer, “Thanks but maybe later, Spence. I’m still stuck on the whole I’m-married-to-my-boss thing right now.”

“Trust me Princess,” Derek laughs “I’m pretty sure all of us could tell you about how everything went down like a damn movie.”

“Yeah…” JJ continues with a fond shake of her head, “You guys weren’t very subtle about it.”

Sneaking a look out of the corner of your eye, you catch Hotch blushing and staring down at his shoes before he also sneaks a look at you, meeting your eyes.

“See?” Derek’s voice breaks your gaze. “This is exactly what I was talking about. You guys weren’t subtle and still aren’t,” rolling his eyes, he laughs a little and you can’t help but smile.

“At least they’re married this time around,” Rossi supplies. “No more ‘secret’ glances and yearning,” he says with such contempt you can’t help but laugh as Hotch—Aaron? — lets out a small chuckle of his own.

“Now I just need to remember how we got here,” you say, feeling a little more at ease. Slowly, you reach for Hotch’s left hand, studying the ring the matches your own. “Remember us,” you continue, just to him, and the smile that overtakes his face is the best thing you’ve seen since waking up.

“You weren’t wrong, Morgan,” comes Emily’s voice from the end of your bed. “This is just like a movie. Ugh. But don’t worry, Y/N, we’ll help you sort this out.”

“And I know just the woman for the job,” Morgan adds with a mischievous smirk which immediately makes you wonder about whatever it is he has planned.

“Now as much as I’d love to watch the two lovebirds gaze into each other’s eyes, I actually have plans,” Rossi states, looking down at his watch. “So, I’ll be back tomorrow. Have a good night, Y/N,” he says before waving to the rest of the team and leaving.

The rest of the team makes their own excuses to leave, and you can’t help but feel like Morgan and Prentiss have concocted some sort of scheme to “help” you get your memories back.

Running a hand over your face, you sigh. What now? The sound of someone clearing their throat makes you look up and realize that Hotch hadn’t left with the others, but was instead standing near the foot of your bed, looking somewhat anxious.

“I ummm… I was planning on spending the night here to make sure you were okay, but umm…” he trails off, unsure.

“But since I have no memory of us being together you think it’s weird…?” you ask gently.

“Yeah,” he answers in a sigh. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by being here, especially because I know how frustrating and confusing this must be for you…”

“Hotch,” you start, but he can’t hide his wince when you call him that. “Aaron,” you try again. “Yes, this is incredibly confusing and frustrating because Emily should be dead and I didn’t think you had feelings for me at all,” you pause and see him smile, just a bit, “But I’d really like it if you stayed here. With me. Because—” you take a deep breath. “—Because you make me feel safe, Aaron, and I need that right now,” you say gently, not quite sure where the confidence came from, but Aaron’s eyes soften and his smile grows bigger as his shoulders drop in relief. Worth it.

“Then I’ll stay,” he says, and you can’t help the heat that once again rises in your cheeks as he continues to look at you.

You guys are married, dammit. Pull it together.

Averting your gaze, you turn your attention to getting more comfortable in your bed and decide to fuss with the placement of your pillows because damn was your back starting to hurt, but Aaron beats you to it. Within ten seconds of arranging the pillows behind you, he has them perfect.

“How…?” you start to question, but he just raises his eyebrows. “Right. Married,” you say with a shake of your head.

Aaron finally sits in the chair next to your bed and reaches, almost absentmindedly, for your hand before catching himself and stilling. You can see the fight in his mind—he wants to comfort you and himself, but with your memory, he doesn’t quite know where your boundaries are. Taking pity on him, you grab his hand yourself, weaving your fingers together so he knows it was on purpose. Okay so you really just wanted to hold his hand again, but you’re married! You’re allowed. He takes a deep breath and leans back in the chair, turning his head to really look at you.

“How’s your head?” he asks, brow furrowed in what you’ve come to understand is genuine concern.

You pause and consider for a moment.

“Not terrible, but not great,” you say slowly. “It’s like there’s a fog in my mind that I can’t see through. I know I’m missing stuff, but I just don’t know what.”

Aaron gently squeezes your hand, but doesn’t speak yet.

“I want to know what brought Emily back, how we happened, what it was that gave me this fucking injury, I just…” with an exasperated huff, you collect yourself. “I just want to know.”

“Well, Emily should be the one to tell you her part of the story, and as for us,” he gives you a smile “it’s a longer answer, at least for me, so that will have to wait—Sorry, Sweetheart,” he says when you pout. “However, I can tell you about what landed you in the hospital. How does that sound?”

“It’s a start,” you tease, and yes Aaron smiles wider and rolls his eyes.

“We were chasing an unsub, and Garcia had tracked him to a warehouse not too far from Quantico. We went there and—” his voice wavers. You squeeze his hand. “—and the unsub had set explosives around the perimeter of the building. I guess you got too close to him when trying to talk him down and he triggered the whole set.” Aaron sighs, and his eyes are glazed over like he’s reliving this—which he probably is—and there’s nothing you can really do besides let him take his time.

“You weren’t right by any of them, but you were thrown back and had hit the ground before I could even yell at you to stop—not that you would have listened,” he says pointedly with a watery laugh. “You just laid there, Morgan and I carried you over to the medics as soon as the dust settled and they took you away as we cleared the rest of the scene.”

“And the unsub?”

“He didn’t survive the explosion. As soon as we figured that out, we left it to the local PD and crime scene techs.” He looks at you softly. “We came straight here after that.”

“How long was I out before today,” you ask lightly, curiously.

“Three days. Dave had to convince me to go home and shower on the second day.” He looks down before sneaking a sideways glance at you.

“Well I’m glad he did,” you tease, scrunching your nose.

“And I’m glad you’re awake, Sweetheart,” he replies, squeezing your hand.

You laugh and look away before mumbling, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

“Get used to what?” he waits a second. “Sweetheart?” Motherfucker. He knows what he’s doing.

“That! I woke up convinced you didn’t have feelings for me at all,” you say with a glare, “and now I know we’re married and you keep being so nice and understanding and calling me Sweetheart and I just don’t know how to deal with all of this!” you finish in a huff.

“I just feel bad that I can’t remember this, us” you add, gesturing between the two of you. “I’m trying and there’s just—” you make a frustrated noise and flop back to stare at the ceiling. “And my head still kind of hurts,” you add softly, almost pouting.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Aaron whispers. He clears his throat before continuing. “You’ll get your memories back,” he leans forward to stroke some hair off your forehead. “And until then, you know the team and I will do what we can to catch you up and help you remember.”

You push your head further into his hand with a sigh. He runs his hand through your hair a few times before pulling back and you almost whine. You yawn instead. Settling down, you tug the blanket up higher across your chest and turn to face Aaron as he also gets comfortable. He turns on the small television in your room and at some point, you fall asleep holding his hand.

---

You wake to the sound of the door opening, followed by the unmistakable click-clack of heels worn by none other than Penelope Garcia.

“Rise and shine! Time to regain your memory, lovely Y/N,” she sings, coming to a stop by the side of your bed as you roll over with a yawn.

“Pen—” you groan. “Let me sleep. Please.”

“Oh no, my little profiler. Do you have your memory back?” You shake your head. “Then we need to work on that! And don’t you dare tell me no; my wonderful Derek Morgan and I were up all night making this for you,”

You raise your eyebrows.

“Sadly, not like that. But, we compiled a presentation-slash-video montage for you about what you’ve missed!”

That catches your attention.

“Wha--? How? Penelope where did the footage come from?” you ask, more awake now.

“Well, I may or may not have used security cam footage for a lot of it, but that’s neither here nor there, so, without further ado, I present to you: your life for the past four-ish years!” and with that, she somehow connects her tablet to the TV and you see a picture of the whole team; Penelope then produces a remote from the depths of her purse and then proceeds to the next slide.

Which is a photo of you. And Aaron. Standing by the coffee machine in the office and smiling at each other, clearly unaware that the moment was being documented. The image is embellished with what must be close to fifty moving, sparkly hearts, obviously done by Garcia.

“First thing’s first,” she starts with a flourish. “Your husband!” and as if on cue, Aaron walks into the room, cup of coffee in hand. Much to your surprise, Aaron just rounds your bed to sit in the same chair you assume he fell asleep in, watching the screen.

“What is happening,” you say softly to yourself, looking from Aaron to Garcia and back.

“The doctor said photos and videos might help restore your memory, so who better to put something together than Garcia?” Hotch answers dryly, a small smile flashing across his face. “The rest of the team should be here shortly,” he says directly to Garcia.

“Oh good. I always work better with an audience,” she replies as you continue to process just what the hell is happening since you woke up approximately five minutes ago.

Within a few minutes, your hospital room is overrun with the rest of the team. Sitting, standing, leaning wherever they can find the space to view Penelope’s presentation with you in the middle of it all.

“Don’t you people have jobs?” you grumble.

“C’mon, Princess. Who better to help you remember the last few years than us?” Derek says with a cheeky grin that makes you roll your eyes.

You turn your gaze to Aaron and find that he’s already looking at you in concern.

“If you really don’t want all of us here we can leave,” he says just loud enough for you to hear.

“I just…” you take a moment to try and collect your thoughts. “I guess I just don’t know how to feel about all of this, but you’re all here so— “

“So here we go!” Penelope cheerfully finishes your sentence before turning back to the screen. “As I was saying before, part one of Operation Get Y/N’s Memories Back is all about—drumroll please—our very own Unit Chief, a.k.a. Hotch, a.k.a. loving husband to our very own Agent Y/L/N.”

With a shake of your head, purposefully ignoring the way Derek and Emily are whooping and whistling, you settle in and gesture for Penelope to continue. God, let’s hope this works.

---

It doesn’t work.

Fuck.

Three almost four hours later and nothing has changed for you. However, it’s a lovely opportunity for some team bonding and creating new memories, but you’re still disappointed. It’s not for lack of trying, though. Penelope did a wonderful job of pulling together a presentation-slash-video montage of your life, complete with titles such as ‘Your lovely husband,’ ‘The Miraculous Life, Death, and Subsequent Resurrection of Emily Prentiss,’ and even ‘Badass BAU Babies,’ which was a collection of team photos and news clips of cases you guys had closed in the past few years.

The whole team had gotten a kick out of each section, especially the last one, as Penelope had spared no one in her quest to help your memory; ugly selfies sent in the BAU group chat, embarrassing footage of you tripping up (and down) the stairs to the bullpen—courtesy of the security cameras, Reid doing physics magic and narrowly missing Rossi’s coffee cup, it was all there. But nothing worked, there was no magical ah ha moment where everything came rushing back. If anything, it really was like watching a movie; it didn’t feel like you were the one is all of these clips and photos. Not even Reid’s commentary made you feel any closer than before to recovering your memories.

It wasn’t all bad, though. Penelope had a veritable stockpile of photos of you and Aaron, ranging from the office, to cases, to the occasional night out with the team. Your engagement announcement, wedding photos, freakin’ everything on the two of you and yet, nothing seemed to make a difference to your brain.

The photo on the screen was one of you and Aaron on a case. You were tucked under his arm, snowflakes visible in your hair and his as you look up and laugh at something he said while he just smiles gently down at you. Penelope had put hearts over both your eyes.

“Actual heart eyes! I had to! You guys are so cute!” she basically squealed when the photo came up.

“What did I tell you,” Rossi said teasingly, “Yearning.”

Prentiss and Morgan hadn’t stopped laughing for this entire segment, with JJ and Reid occasionally joining in if there was something exceptionally ridiculous Penelope had included, like fucking heart eyes.

A hand covering your own makes you realize you had spaced out, and you look down to see that it’s Aaron’s hand, wedding band catching the light.

“Anything, Sweetheart?” he asks in a low voice, carefully watching your face.

You shake your head. “It’s like it’s someone else’s life, but I know it’s mine; you’ve told me it’s mine, there’s photographic evidence that it’s mine!” you say in a huff. “It just doesn’t feel like it’s mine,” you whisper, voice breaking at the end. Tears gather in your eyes and you bite your lip to stop it from shaking as you desperately try and control your overwhelming emotions. You can hear the team in the background, strategizing new ways to help you, but Aaron’s face hovers in front of your own, drawing your attention.

“It’s okay,” he says lightly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“No, it’s not,” you insist as a few tears make their way down your face. “It’s not, Aaron. What if this is it? What if I just don’t get my memories back?”

Letting out a long sigh, Aaron raises your hand to his lips and kisses your palm before folding your hand into his.

“You will. I know you will,” he says with such conviction you might just believe him if it weren’t for the way he rapidly blinks to keep his own tears at bay.

“Yeah, Princess.” Morgan chimes in from somewhere across the room. “We’ll figure this out, you know we will.”

And with that, you see something click into place in Aaron’s eyes and suddenly, he’s looking at you in such a way that your heart picks up—thanks, heart monitor.

“Aaron…?” you ask cautiously.

“Princess,” he says it so simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You only have time to raise an eyebrow at him before—

Oh.

Kissing Aaron Hotchner is something you could definitely get used to. His hand comes up to cradle your face as he gently moves his lips against yours. You sigh and can feel his smile against your mouth before he’s tugging your face closer, tilting your head just so and—

There.

It’s like opening a window to let in a breeze. Soft and sure, filling the space in a way that’s all-encompassing without being suffocating.

Like snowflakes falling and settling on his black jacket, like Aaron down on one knee sliding your engagement ring on your finger while you smile so much it feels like your face will break. It’s leaving cups of coffee on his desk during late nights in the office. It’s playing soccer with Jack as Aaron smiles and cheers both of you on. It’s being in bed late at night, falling asleep in the comfort provided by the man you love. Your wedding vows, promising to love him forever.

And you know.

With a gasp, you pull Aaron closer, kiss him deeper, harder, moving your lips more frantically against his. I remember I remember I remember and you think he gets it because he pulls back and looks at you with so much hope it almost breaks your heart.

“When I said I’d love you forever, Aaron Hotchner, I meant it.”

And his face breaks into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen as he laughs in disbelief before capturing your lips with his again, returning the urgency you had kissed him with just moments ago.

Someone clears their throat and you pull apart, smiles obvious on both your faces as you turn to the team who are looking somewhat confused.

“Would you mind enlightening us as to why you two are suddenly acting like teenagers?” Rossi asks, eyebrows raised.

“Well,” Aaron starts, grinning in your direction, “It would seem that— “

“Nuh uh. No way,” Derek interrupts him. “Are you seriously about to say that you kissed her and she magically remembered?”

You can’t help but laugh at his disbelief because what the hell and nod, unable to speak through the giddiness overtaking your body. You remember.

“Ohmygod! You guys!!” Penelope squeals before launching herself into your arms for a hug which she promptly pulls Aaron into as well; he doesn’t protest.

“What made you do that, Hotch?” Reid asks curiously once Penelope has let you and Aaron go. “Did you know it would work?”

“Princess,” Aaron says with a nod towards Morgan. “In Jack’s storybooks, a kiss always wakes the Princess so she and her prince can live happily ever after.”

Okay that’s adorable and you can’t help but aww with the rest of the team at Aaron’s confession.

“Happily ever after, huh?” you say, tugging on his hand. “Who knew you were such a sap, Hotchner?”

Rolling his eyes, Aaron just smiles. “Wasn’t it obvious from Garcia’s presentation? I’ve been in love with you forever, Sweetheart. And besides, it worked, didn’t it?” he says with a smug smile.

You pull him down for a short kiss before moving back just enough to murmur “My Prince Charming.”

“I can’t believe you guys,” you turn to see Morgan shaking his head. “A literal fuckin’ fairytale,” and then he’s laughing and the whole team, you and Aaron included, are laughing with him because yeah this is pretty surreal.

“I can’t believe you thought I was a ghost!” Emily says once the laughter has died down, her arms crossed in mock-anger.

“Can you blame me?” you retort. “The last thing I remember was burying you and suddenly you’re here? Nope. No way. Ghost. Only explanation.”

“I have to say, Y/L/N, I’m glad you’re back, if only to stop Aaron’s sad puppy-dog eyes every time you called him ‘Hotch,’” Rossi shakes his head. “I don’t know how much more yearning I could take.”

“Hey! Be nice,” JJ admonishes, swatting Rossi’s shoulder. “I think it’s sweet.”

“Yeah guys,” you echo. “Be nice! Don’t think I forgot you two,” you say, leveling Morgan and Prentiss with glares, “and all your laughter when I couldn’t remember that my husband and I were married!”

“Oh c’mon, Princess,” Morgan groans. “It was pretty funny. You were trying so hard not to look completely in love with your husband.”

“In my defense,” you start, “I didn’t know that you guys already knew how much I love Aaron, so excuse me for trying to hide my love,” you say with a sniff.

“Well, it was pretty obvious. Whenever you looked at him or he grabbed your hand, the heart monitor would register an increase in your heart rate by—” Reid starts to ramble but your laughter cuts him off.

“I get it, I get it,” you continue through your laughter. “I’m very in love with Aaron, even when I think it’s a secret, but as Penelope’s presentation so eloquently demonstrated, I’m not subtle and neither is he.”

Aaron leans over to kiss your cheek as the rest of the team continues into a conversation about Penelope’s presentation and how the hell she collected all those photos and videos in one day.

With the attention no longer on you—for now—you smile at Aaron, who smiles right back. He slumps back in his chair with a sigh, and you can’t help but pull him back closer to you.

“I love you,” you say kissing the back of his hand.

“I love you more, Sweetheart,” he replies softly.

Yeah, this is happily ever after.

1K notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (chapter 10 - FINALE)

series masterlist

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind. you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: 6k

warnings: implied smut, angst, fluff, romcom tropes, lots of swearing, pregnancy mention/minor breeding kink

note: click the asterisk for a hyperlink to a translation when the time comes

Six months later...

“It’s good!” she beamed, setting down the last chunk of pages and taking off her reading glasses. “Oh man, that ending hurt, but it’s really, really good!”

You leaned back into the plush chair and sighed with relief. “You think so?”

“It’s best-seller material,” she assured. “With some editing, of course. God, I can’t believe you were sitting on this for so long.”

“What are the biggest changes you want to make?” you asked.

“Well, I’m thinking we’ll cut the romantic subplot,” she mentioned in passing, like it was no big deal. “It’s distracting.

“Distracing?” you repeated. “Nia, it’s the story. It’s a romance.”

“I thought it was a thriller,” she frowned.

“A romance disguised as a thriller,” you corrected.

“Listen, I get what you mean, but I didn’t get this—” she tapped the nameplate on her desk: ‘NIA BROWN, HEAD PUBLISHER’ in shiny letters— “for nothing. I know what I’m talking about, and I know what your readers want. Violence, gore, drama!”

“It has all that!” you defended. “But it’s all there to talk about the real love he finds in her!”

“What do you mean ‘real love’?” she pressed flatly.

“I mean…” you pondered. “I mean love where you feel like a version of yourself that you actually like. Love where you feel unjudged, no precedents or caveats or back-up plans. Love that fucking hurts because you never wanted to rely on anything or anybody. Love that lives in silence because you don’t even need words.”

She furrowed her brow. “That… sounds nice, I guess, but I don’t think anybody really has that. Everybody needs a back-up plan. Everybody needs words— a writer should know that.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god,” you groaned, your face falling into your hands. “I’m so fucking stupid. Jesus Christ, I’m a moron.”

“What? What’s going on?”

“I had that! I had that, and I let it go! I’m the dumbest bitch on the fucking face of the Earth.”

“Don’t say that,” she soothed, but you were already standing up.

“No, I need to find him,” you decided as you grabbed your coat and briefcase. “I need to go back and try to fix this. I love him, I’ve never— I didn’t know I could love like that, I didn’t know I could be loved like that… oh my god, I need to find him. It isn’t over.”

“It isn’t over?” she repeated incredulously. “You said Michael signed the papers!”

“It’s not Michael,” you rolled your eyes as you stormed out of the office. “It was never Michael.”

You ran into the first telephone box you could find, slamming the door shut as you searched your purse for the business card that probably wasn't even in there.

After a moment, you gasped with delight when you pulled it from a very bottom pocket and began punching in the number as fast as possible with shivering hands, long-distance charges be damned.

“Hello?” the confused voice on the other end answered.

“Mrs. Alberti, hi— does Sebastian still work for you?” you asked hastily.

“No, dear," she sighed, apparently recognizing you by just your voice (and likely your request), "he quit recently, and moved away.”

“Moved?" you repeated with a wrinkled brow. "Where?!”

“I assume back home, sweetheart; to Bucharest.”

“Shit,” you sighed. “Shit!”

“Are you having your ‘run through the airport’ moment, sweetheart?” she realized.

“Yes, I think so— do you have his address?”

“Well, no, but I’ll see what I can find.”

You waited rather impatiently as she shuffled through papers in the background, mumbling to herself as she apparently searched for information that could help you.

“All I’ve got is the address of a previous employer… a carpenter,” she finally explained, breaking the silence. “It was his only reference when he came to work here," she explained.

"Wow, you really did just hire him for his looks," you blurted out.

"He was desperate for work, that boy had nowhere else to go,” she defended.

“Right, well, I guess if that’s my only lead then I’ve gotta go for it,” you decided. “Thank you, Mrs. Alberti.”

“I told you to call me when that book was a hit. Did it happen yet?” she piped up.

“It’s not published yet,” you explained. “It needs some more work… but I think it’s almost ready.”

“I think so, too, dear.”

Learn Romanian in 10 Weeks! A practical language guide.

Week 1, Day 1: Greetings

Hello Salut

Goodbye La revedere

Thank you Mulțumesc

You’re welcome Cu plăcere

Good morning Bună dimineata

Good afternoon Bună ziua

Good evening Bună seara

Good night Noapte bună

You brushed your hair back out of your face with a sigh, turning the page as you mumbled the phrases to yourself. Broken Hungarian and your high school education in Latin were not getting you as far with this as you had been hoping.

How are you? Ce mai faci

I love you Te iubesc

“Te iubesc, te iubesc, te iubesc,” you repeated over and over in a whisper.

Each day you had a new routine: practice Romanian for an hour, check flight prices online (or call the airline), research what you knew about Sebastian and the address Mrs. Alberti had given you, and then get back to practicing Romanian again.

Oh, and occasionally you worked on the edits Nia wanted for your manuscript. You were focusing on the minor changes— grammar errors, rearranging sentences— and putting off her big request for the removal and replacement of the romantic aspects. More than ever, they seemed like the most important thing the book had to offer.

You had a small apartment, just a place to sleep and shower really; much too small to fit everything you’d already taken from Michael’s house (you know, the one that used to be your house) along with what he’d shipped to you that you forgot before. He included a letter in the package as well. You threw it out, unopened.

Truthfully, you never really fully unpacked. As much as you realized you probably should, in order to really feel like you had a real home, you couldn’t bring yourself to empty your suitcases when you knew you’d be packing them again any day now.

You also realized how outrageous this all was. Ignoring the unlikelihood of even finding him in the first place, Sebastian probably wouldn’t want anything to do with you after you broke his heart, left, and then randomly tracked him down after over half a year. But to be totally transparent, you weren’t really doing this to get him back, necessarily. You knew that was probably never going to happen. You were doing this because you needed to try. You needed to go there, and get hurt, and come back knowing you did everything you could: you’d never be able to live with yourself if you did anything less than that.

You couldn’t start your new life until you had put everything else to bed. And if that meant being 100%, painfully certain that you and Sebastian could never be together, then that was just how it needed to be.

After two weeks of looking, there still weren’t any reasonable flights to Bucharest, so you booked another trip by train, figuring you could use the three day trip to brush up on the key Romanian phrases you were going to need as well as prepare your speech.

Yes, your plan was a speech. You didn’t have a back-up plan. You didn’t even have a return ticket back to London yet.

A passage by Yeats came to mind; But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.

In all your life, you’d never understood before why someone would want to only have their dreams. But now, here you were… and yes, it felt terrifying and vulnerable and uncomfortably naked, but it felt pretty damn good, too.

With a sigh, you scribbled out the last sentence you’d written, tossing the trash paper aside. You looked up out the window at the scenery flying by in a blur, worried that if you didn’t look out from the train every once in a while you’d get motion sickness.

The sun was beginning to set already, the green of hills and trees tinted orange. You only indulged in it for a moment, though, before getting back to this god-forsaken speech you were deadset on finishing before you arrived in Bucharest tomorrow. At first, you’d figured the translating would be the most difficult part… but writing in English wasn’t exactly a piece of cake, either. You had so much to say, and suddenly so few words for any of it.

You’d probably done more editing on this than any of your novels combined; the crumpled up pages spilling out of your wastebasket were proof enough of that.

“And I’m a fucking writer!” you groaned aloud, to no one in particular. “How is anybody else supposed to be able to do this, if I can’t?”

Other people aren’t as emotionally constipated as you, the voice of your inner critic reminded you plainly, making you roll your eyes at yourself.

A rap at your door made you sit up straighter and turn around. A stewardess slid open the frosted glass slightly to give you a friendly smile. “Is everything alright, ma’am?”

Your brows furrowed at the sound of her accent. “Is that a Romanian accent?” you asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded.

“So you’re fluent in Romanian and English,” you concluded.

“And Portuguese, yes ma’am,” she agreed.

“Could you come in here for a moment and help me translate something?”

She seemed slightly confused at the request but stepped forward, sliding the door most of the way shut behind her. Leaning beside you on the desk, she picked up your handwritten letter and blinked her wide, brown eyes a few times. You felt slightly embarrassed knowing she was reading such intimate thoughts, but that was how it felt the first time someone read anything you wrote so you were pretty much used to it by now.

“I usually ask the passengers what brings them to Bucharest,” she mumbled after a moment. “This is the most interesting thing so far. Am I reading this correctly, that you intend to confess your love to someone you met—” she scanned the page quickly— “during a vacation in Hungary?”

“Yup,” you smiled awkwardly, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word.

“And he doesn’t speak English?” she assumed; you nodded. “And… you don’t speak Romanian?”

You nodded again, and she breathed in and out quickly, sitting beside you as she stared at the letter.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she explained.

“Sorry for sucking you into the entropic vortex that is my life,” you chuckled.

“I don’t mean to pry,” she sighed, setting the letter down, and you laughed a little internally at the idea that she was worried about prying when she just read the most personal piece of writing you’d ever put to the page, “but do you think this is… enough? I mean, to build a relationship on?”

You just gave her a shrug. “I have no idea. But, you know, I spent my whole life worrying about stuff like that. I dated my husband for seven years before we got married, because I wanted to be sure. I was initially interested in him because he was successful and ambitious, and it made me feel like this was a really secure relationship that I could rely on. I double majored in English and Computer Science because I wanted a more stable career to fall back on in case being a writer didn’t work out, and even though it did, I’ve spent most of my career publishing what I thought people wanted to read instead of what I wanted to write, so I’d have a better shot at a good paycheck. I grew up thinking the best thing I could ever have was security. And now I’m divorced, watching my royalties shrink every month, more insecure in every way than I’ve ever been, and I’m realizing that the choices I made didn’t give me what I wanted. I gave up so much in the name of safety, and I let the one good thing I’d ever found go, so I could go back to being the same person I always was. I’m ready to settle again, if this doesn’t work… I’m ready to accept that this is just the way life goes, and be thankful that I got a taste of the kind of stuff I thought only existed in the sort of books I’d read but never write.”

She swallowed as she looked at you, and you felt your eyes water as you stared out the window towards the dimming scenery one more time, smiling at the sight of a distant village, a church with a steeple, vineyards and farms. Someone’s whole life is in that little town, you imagined, and they’re just watching your train go by like they see every other day.

“Sebastian gave me more security than I’d ever had before, even though the whole thing was such a ridiculous little whirlwind, and nothing like I ever imagined my life could be. But he made me want to be honest and raw and write sappy letters like the one you just read. He doesn’t have any money, at least as far as I know, and I haven’t known him for seven years, and on paper it makes no sense… but you would understand if you knew him. If you felt that joy that he radiates, if you saw him live his simple little life like it’s the best thing in the world. You would understand if you knew how much I needed this. You would understand if you had been just as miserable being who I’ve been for so long, and finally had a chance to be somebody you think you were maybe meant to be the whole time. So, if I never see him again, I hope I just get to thank him.”

You waited for her to say something, but furrowed your brow at the long moment of silence, looking back from the window finally and finding her staring at you with a tear running down her cheek. When you met her gaze, she quickly wiped it away with a sniffle and looked down at your desk again. “Let’s get to translating, shall we?” she announced with a half-smile.

You noticed the way the other passengers looked at you as everyone was in line to deboard from the train car; you stuck out like a sore thumb, since everybody else was carrying heavy luggage and all you had was a backpack.

In your defense, you really had no idea how to pack for a trip where you knew neither the duration nor the true final destination. So, it was mainly filled with your essentials, a few clothes for any kind of weather, and enough leu to buy anything else you needed along the way.

The stewardess was waving goodbye to everyone as they shuffled out into the train station, occasionally stopping to shake a hand or give directions to nearby destinations. When you were just about to pass by, though, she pulled you into a tight hug.

“Good luck,” she whispered, holding you just a moment too long before pulling back and giving you an encouraging look. “If he doesn’t take you back, feel free to blame my translation… because if he knows what’s in your heart, I know he’ll say yes.”

“Yeah, that’s the hard part isn’t it?” you laughed weakly. “Thank you for your help. I guess if I come back alone for the return trip tonight, you’ll know how bad it went.”

“Then I hope I don’t see you again,” she winked.

It being a major train station and all, cabs were waiting around every corner so it was pretty easy to grab one and give them the address you already had written down for this exact purpose.

“This is pretty far,” the driver explained, “on the edge of town. Not a tourist spot.”

“Good, because I’m not a tourist,” you nodded, already only giving him half your attention as you pulled out the translated speech to practice.

“And you can afford this?” he pressed. You sighed and dug through your bag, pulling out a haphazard stack of bills and handing them through the plastic partition.

“Is this enough?” you asked, and he didn’t answer, just taking the money and starting the car as you smiled and leaned back in your seat.

As much as you had tried to convince yourself to not get your hopes up, the butterflies in your stomach felt more like whole birds at this point, demanding to break free as you practiced the words hand-written on the page over and over again, committing it all to memory.

“What are you reading?” the cab driver asked after several minutes.

“Oh, nothing,” you mumbled, “sorry if I’m bothering you, you can turn on the radio.”

“No, it’s not bothering me, but what you are saying… it’s very odd. It sounds like something from a play, or movie,” he explained.

“Um, it’s not,” you replied, a little embarrassed. “But does it sound like it’s from a good movie? Like, if you heard a character say this to another character, would you think they should get together?”

“I… don’t know,” he answered, sounding confused. “I mean, it depends on what happened, right? How they met, how well they get along…”

So, you told him the whole story, as succinctly as possible (which is not very succinct at all). By the end, he was actually giving commentary as you spoke.

“Why the hell did you leave?” he interjected, clearly irritated with you. “You loved him!”

“Yeah, well, sometimes love isn’t enough! I loved my husband too, and look how that turned out,” you defended.

“But that’s different. That was love for all the wrong reasons.”

“I promise, it felt very real at the time,” you shrugged.

“And now?” he countered. “You realize that this man— Sebastian, right?— is real.”

“I hope I’m right this time,” you offered. “But even if I am, he may not agree.”

The driver scoffed, taking a hand off the wheel to wave dismissively. “If he’s anything like you said, then he will still be completely in love with you. After all, you still feel the same way after all this time apart, don’t you?”

“If anything, I love him more every day,” you admitted, your heart beating quickly just to say it aloud.

“You know, when I met my wife, she was engaged to another man. He was rich, good-looking, and he wasn’t even a bad guy unlike this husband you describe. He was a good man, but he wasn’t right for her. They were… content together, but she wasn’t truly happy. Every night I would come to her window and beg her to marry me, because I knew that she knew we were meant for each other, but she was scared because her family wouldn’t approve and she would be a poor man’s wife.”

“How did you convince her to marry you instead?” you asked eagerly, sucked into the story already.

“I didn’t. On the day of the wedding, some people told me to go and break it up but I didn’t. I thought it would be wrong, to try to ruin her happiness and take it for myself by making a scene at the wedding. I realized she was her own woman and if she wanted to choose him, I had to let her. I had locked myself in my house, not wanting to see anyone that day, and she appeared at my door. I didn’t need to convince her because she knew the truth in her heart, and called off the wedding herself.”

“Wow,” you smiled.

“She was still in her dress!” he recalled with a hearty laugh. “She looked like an angel. We were married just a few days later. And next month will be thirty years,” he added as he lifted his left hand to show the golden band on his finger.

“Thirty years, that’s… a long time,” you sighed.

“It wasn’t always easy,” he admitted. “But it was always worth it.”

Just as you wondered what you could possibly say to that, you felt the car slow down to a stop.

“This is the address you gave me, this is it,” he explained, pointing out his passenger-side window. You leaned up against the glass and gasped in dawning fear as you saw the storefront dark and empty inside.

“No, nonono,” you whispered rapidly to yourself as you swung open the door and hopped out, pressing your face against the glass to try to get a look inside and finding what was undeniably a closed carpentry business. There was a note on the door, taped on the inside of the glass, and you knew enough Romanian to know it said something about a vacation and three months.

“Shit!” you yelped, holding your face in your hands, wondering if your journey had come to an end before it really began.

“Are you alright?” the driver asked, rolling down his window to speak to you.

“This was my only lead, I don’t have his real address,” you explained. “He used to work here, I thought maybe someone would know him…”

He sighed, giving you a sympathetic look. “Get back in, we can search nearby. You came too far to give in yet.”

But getting back in the car felt like giving in, too, which you realized as you looked back at the note taped to the carpenter's door. This was the closest you'd gotten, and it felt wasteful to leave with nothing.

Just as you were ready to hop in the passenger seat and start searching aimlessly through suburban Bucharest, or maybe look around for a Romanian yellow pages, you heard a noise from behind you, across the street; a laugh. His laugh. But it couldn’t be because it was too good to be true… and yet you found yourself whipping your head around and hoping beyond all reason that it was Sebastian.

Across the street was a restaurant, with a large patio where patrons were dining and chatting as they sat at wrought iron tables, and your eyes searched the crowd for any signs of him.

And then your gaze landed on a head of thick brunette hair, red and gold highlights so obvious now when the sunlight hit it this way. Broad shoulders wrapped in a white button-up shirt. He was facing away from you but he was looking to the side so you could see his face; he was smiling, laughing at something someone had said. And it was his smile that you recognized; it was like everything else faded away, and in that moment you thought maybe you could almost be happy with just this, just seeing him be happy even if it had nothing to do with you.

“Sebastian,” you called out to him, but he didn’t react. “Sebastian!”

His whole body turned, his eyes met yours, and you couldn't help but let the tears well in your eyes as you ran across the road to him.

He looked, understandably, stunned, and you realized he was actually waiting on a table at the moment; he said something to them, apparently excusing himself, and stepped closer to you.

But he stopped walking, not coming any closer, not exactly dragging you into his arms like you might've preferred, but with a breath to try to soothe your racing mind, you summoned your memories of the practiced letter and began. *

“Când am venit în Ungaria…” you started slowly, doing your best to remember the words and hoping your pronunciation wasn’t too awful, “nu căutam dragoste. Căutam spațiu, claritate și poate o idee de carte de un milion de dolari. În schimb, am găsit tot ce am căutat toată viața mea…”

You did your best to bite back tears, especially when his expression was nearly unreadable and you had no idea how well this was going.

“Ești tu, Sebastian, bineînțeles că ești tu,” you sighed, laughing slightly. “Ai fost acolo pentru mine când nici nu știam ce vreau de la nimeni. Ai fost prietenul meu fără să spui vreodată un cuvânt - cel puțin nu un cuvânt pe care l-am înțeles. M-ai iubit și nu știam ce să fac cu asta, pentru că uitasem cu mult timp în urmă cum se simțea să fii iubit. Și ce simțeai să iubești cu adevărat pe cineva. Dar te iubesc. Și am fost prost să te las să pleci, atât de neconceput de prost. Vreau să fim noi, Sebastian. Lasă-mă să te iubesc, mai dă-mi o șansă și îți promit că nu te voi mai lăsa să pleci niciodată.

The first thing he said was your name, and just the way he said it made you fall in love with him all over again.

“I… I dream that you would come back,” he shakily replied. “But now I cannot believe. You are my dream.”

Tears were openly flowing at this point and you wanted to run into his arms, but you tried to stay calm and hear him out. He stepped closer, almost hesitant, like you would run away if he got too close too fast.

“I love you, very much that I am sure I am insane person,” he explained with a grin, and you giggled. “We will live anywhere, do anything you would like— be my wife.”

You gasped as he pulled you into him, gripping your arms tightly as his desperation became apparent.

“Marry me?” he asked softly.

“Da,” you nodded, “yes, of course, anything—”

He kissed you suddenly, but gently, and it said more than any words in any language could.

It was a small wedding, in the Hungarian countryside by the lake. You could remember diving into that lake for lost pages of your manuscript; you could remember looking out over the water and dreaming of this moment you were living right now, thinking it was impossible.

He didn’t have much family, but they welcomed you with open arms.

Your family, well, they were too busy with planning another wedding, for your ex-husband and your ex-sister. A few of them sent cards but the rest were suspiciously quiet. You honestly didn’t even notice… you had a new family to attend to, anyhow. And it wasn’t like you didn’t have any guests, since you were able to track down and invite a stewardess named Maria, and a cab driver named Andrei and his wife, Paola.

Sebastian’s cousins weaved flowers into your hair and his grandmother tailored her dress to fit you like a glove. A picture of his parents was hung nearby in tribute; he told you they would’ve wanted to see him get married but that he felt, in some way, they were able to even if they had passed away quite some time ago.

You realized you’d never seen him in anything even mildly formal before; in fact, the suit he wore was rather casual, all things considered, but he looked so painfully cute in it. Sometimes you thought he actually looked a bit out of place wearing a shirt, though, especially one that was buttoned up all the way.

Luckily, the shirt was halfway unbuttoned about ten minutes into the reception.

Mrs. Alberti cooked a massive dinner for everyone, and even grew the flowers that you carried down the cobblestone aisle.

And wow, can Romanians drink. You had to be careful not to try to keep up with them, because if you had you would’ve been blacked out halfway into the night and the last thing you wanted was to forget even a moment of this.

As the night started to wind down to a close, you and your new husband retired to the lakehouse, running up the stairs and finding them as creaky as always.

He wrapped his arms around you in the hall and kissed you eagerly as you stumbled back into the bedroom, tripping over the doorway and falling onto the bed together.

It felt so right to have his weight on top of you, to feel his smile against your lips, to wrap your arms around his neck.

“This room,” he mumbled into the kiss. “Do you remember first time?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “da, I remember, how could I forget?”

He grinned and moved his lips down to your neck. "I thought of you every day… I love you,” he whispered.

“Te iubesc,” you whispered back.

It was almost like the first time in so many ways: passionate, yet oddly hesitant as you rediscovered each other. It was comfortable, though… you couldn’t think of any other person you felt so comfortable with, somebody who finally got you out of your own head and who made you want to experience everything life had to offer.

You were sure you’d never gone so long without worrying about something in all your life.

“My wife,” he whispered against your skin. “This is all I had wanted… from seeing you in very beginning.”

“You’re all I ever wanted,” you sighed in return, “ești tot ce mi-am dorit vreodată, Sebastian.”

Life with Sebastian was beautifully simple. You spent most of the day writing, usually, while he built furniture to sell and occasionally gardened with his spare time. You could always tell how busy you’d been with a new novel lately by how perfectly groomed the hydrangea bushes were.

You’d told him once that you’d come to Hungary looking for a million-dollar book idea. A Killer in Disguise performed alright, but not anywhere near that. The Language of Love, on the other hand, was definitely a million-dollar idea… about eleven times over. Sebastian didn’t seem to worry too much about how much money you made, though; he was just proud to say that he was the inspiration for your hit novel. You secretly suspected that he was more proud of your work reaching enough international notoriety to be translated into Romanian.

His English still needed some work, but you found it endearing. He was determined to get better and spent at least a half-hour each day practicing, but you hoped he wouldn’t get too perfect because you would miss the silly little mistakes he made. At least you could be sure he’d keep the accent forever… damn, that accent; and he knew exactly what it did to you, too.

In fact, you were crossing through the hall in your robe one evening when your husband’s voice stopped you.

“Darling wife,” you heard Sebastian call from the bedroom in a playful sing-song.

“What is it, Seba?” you asked with a smirk.

“Come in here, please…”

You opened the bedroom door to find most of the room covered in rose petals: most of all the bed, which was surrounded by candles, and topped with a shirtless (as per usual) Sebastian, laid on his side seductively with a long-stemmed rose (one you recognized from his very own garden) between his teeth.

“What are you doing?” you laughed. “Is this some sort of special occasion I’ve forgotten?”

You were already searching your mind for what it could be, but your two-year anniversary had passed a few months ago already and since it was spring it couldn’t be the anniversary of when you first met since that was late in the summer.

“Iss not quite a thpecial occathion yeth,” he answered before taking the rose from his mouth so he actually made sense. “I was considering it could be a special occasion, when we’re done…”

You smirked and climbed over the candles and into bed with him, taking the opportunity to run your hands over his chest. “And what occasion would that be?”

“A year from now, it could be the anniversary of when our child was conceived,” he answered.

Your breath caught in your throat, your voice reduced to a whisper of surprise. “Seba—”

“If you’re not ready, I will be understand,” he instantly added, stern yet soft. “Only if you want this, I just thought that maybe—”

You silenced him with a kiss, lacing your fingers into his hair and letting him roll you onto your back. He pulled back just enough to let you answer, but your noses were still bumping into each other and you smiled.

“I’m ready, Sebastian. More than ready,” you whispered.

He grinned and kissed you again, deeper and slower as he held your face with one hand and gripped your waist with the other. As his lips trailed down to your neck, you were interrupted with one pressing thought.

“Can I ask you something?”

He popped up and looked down at you with a smile. “Sure!”

“Why are you wearing ratty old jeans?” you laughed.

“Hey, these worked on you the first time,” he defended.

You gasped. “You don’t mean those are the jeans—”

“Yes,” he nodded, “the jeans that I had been wearing when I was working on Mrs. Alberti’s cottage. And, truly, when I was finding an excuse to work outside your window.”

“Wait,” you sat up, “did you actually work outside my window on purpose?”

He laughed, hanging his head quickly before looking back at you again with a sparkle in his eye. “You are very smart, my love, except for those times when you are— how do you say? Oblivious.”

You chuckled, unfortunately very aware that he was right.

“Didn’t you ever wonder why I was building a window frame, nearly a dozen metres away from the window it was for?”

You thought for a moment before dropping your face into your hands and laughing. “No, I didn’t notice that. I was too busy giving you a thorough eye-fuck,” you recalled.

“Yes, because I was not wearing a shirt and this distracted you,” he pondered, sounding suddenly like a scientist explaining a theorem or something. “See, that’s the beauty of wearing the jeans and no shirt. The body distracts you while the jeans seduce you.”

“How about you take the jeans off and put that body on me, capisce?” you pleaded; not that you didn’t love his humor or anything, but maybe his funny bone wasn’t exactly the bone you were interested in at the moment.

He grinned devilishly and suddenly pulled your legs apart, settling his body between them as he kissed your neck again, nipping at your jawline and ear. “You’re being impatient, dragă,” he purred. “You want to have my baby that badly?”

You whined involuntarily, arching your back as his hands roamed your body and finally began to untie your robe and push the silk out of the way. “Yes, Sebastian, please—”

“Let’s just say, theoretically, I wanted to have more than one? Would you have another of my children?” he asked softly as he reached up and palmed at your breasts, teasing your nipples which were already much too hard and sensitive for how little he’d touched you. The rough denim rubbing against the inside of your thighs was oddly arousing— maybe it was the sensation itself, or maybe it was just that this was almost like the first thing you imagined when you saw Sebastian all those years ago.

“Yes,” you moaned out your answer, “yes, you know I’d do anything for you.”

“What if I wanted a big family?” he pressed. “Really big? Like, Catholic big?”

“We can have our own fuckin’ Brady Bunch, Seb, I just need you right now,” you begged, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a hot and desperate kiss.

He decided to wait until afterwards to ask what a ‘Brady Bunch’ was. You decided to wait until afterwards to ask when he’d learned how to use the word ‘theoretically’.

sfarsit; the end

#sebastian stan x reader

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percabeth4life · 3 years

Text

Nico and Percy

Okay so I’ve received a lot of asks about Nico and Percy and how Percy treated Nico and someone else sent me a link to a post that had more stuff.

90% of the stuff I’ve seen is either inaccurate or taken out of context.

Lets start with the choking scene.

This scene happened right after Nico lied to Percy to trick him into coming to see Hades so that Nico could learn more about his mom. They were meant to go to the Styx in order to give Percy the Achilles Curse so they had a chance at winning the war. This resulted in Percy being locked up by Hades.

Nico did not intend for this to happen, but he did knowingly lie to Percy. Percy understandably did not trust Nico after that.

The mountain of darkness loomed above me. A foot the size of Yankee Stadium was about to smash me when a voice hissed: ‘Percy!’

I lunged out blindly. Before I was fully awake, I had Nico pinned to the floor of the cell with the edge of my sword at his throat.

‘Want – to – rescue,’ he choked.

Anger woke me up fast. ‘Oh, yeah? And why should I trust you?’

‘No – choice?’ he gagged.

I wished he hadn’t said something logical like that. I let him go. (The Last Olympian page 60).

As you can see, the initial action was taken before Percy was even awake. After he was awake, and got through his initial anger at the betrayal with Nico’s comment, he released Nico and they escaped.

He acknowledged silently later that he didn’t trust Nico anymore and Nico was aware that his actions meant he wasn’t trusted.

So the choking scene: not Percy being unreasonably cruel to Nico.

Threats is another common thing I see people bring up and... I’m genuinely baffled by that one. The closest I can think of is the scene I quoted above? But that doesn’t seem to fit? Anyone want to quote some threats Percy made to Nico? Because I don’t know any.

Next up! The claims that Percy said they should leave Nico to suffocate. Funnily enough he actually says the opposite, multiple times.

Percy stared at his jelly donut. He had a rocky history with Nico di Angelo. The guy had once tricked him into visiting Hades’s palace, and Percy had ended up in a cell. But most of the time, Nico sided with the good guys. He certainly didn’t deserve slow suffocation in a bronze jar, and Percy couldn’t stand seeing Hazel in pain.

“We’ll rescue him,” he promised her. “We have to. The prophecy says he holds the key to endless death.”

Is this first time kind? Not necessarily. But it’s certainly not saying to leave Nico. For multiple reasons, he didn’t deserve, Percy didn’t want Hazel to hurt, and (what he says outloud) Nico is an important figure in the war.

Percy also makes a comment later when they feared they’d be too late

The vision zoomed in again. Inside the jar, Nico di Angelo was curled in a ball, no longer moving, all the pomegranate seeds eaten.

“We’re too late,” Jason said.

“No,” Percy said. “No, I can’t believe that. Maybe he’s gone into a deeper trance to buy time. We have to hurry.”

Funny, this doesn’t sound like someone advocating to leave Nico to die. In fact it sounds like someone almost desperate to save him, or at least hoping strongly that they’ll succeed.

Interestingly there were comments about leaving Nico, but not from Percy. They came from Jason and Leo.

“Uh…” Leo shifted in his chair. “One thing. The giants are expecting us to do this, right? So we’re walking into a trap?”

Hazel looked at Leo like he’d made a rude gesture. “We have no choice!”

“Don’t get me wrong, Hazel. It’s just that your brother, Nico… he knew about bothcamps, right?”

“Well, yes,” Hazel said.

“He’s been going back and forth,” Leo said, “and he didn’t tell either side.” Jason sat forward, his expression grim. “You’re wondering if we can trust the guy. So am I.”

Hazel shot to her feet. “I don’t believe this. He’s my brother. He brought me back from the Underworld, and you don’t want to help him?”

Frank put his hand on her shoulder. “Nobody’s saying that.” He glared at Leo. “Nobody had better be saying that.”

Leo blinked. “Look, guys. All I mean is—”

“Hazel,” Jason said. “Leo is raising a fair point. I remember Nico from Camp Jupiter. Now I find out he also visited Camp Half-Blood. That does strike me as… well, a little shady. Do we really know where his loyalties lie? We just have to be careful.” (Mark of Athena page 125)

How interesting that they’re the ones making comments about leaving Nico...

Next of course I’ve heard the wonder bread brought up? And I had to key word search wonder bread in the books to figure out what that was about and it appears to be a single thought Percy had while they were trying to rescue Nico.

Nico started to crawl away, groaning. Percy wanted him to move faster and to groan less. He considered throwing his Wonder bread at him. (Mark of Athena page 357)

Percy did not actually throw the bread for anyone wondering, and I hardly see how the panicking thought of trying to get them all out of there and keep Nico from being noticed by the people he was escaping from is even something for you to hold against him.

Finally the thing I hear the most, Percy calling Nico creepy and spreading rumors.

Creepy is used in MoA 5 times, in HoH 2 times, and BoO 8 times.

In MoA it’s used by Percy once, and that time is describing Persephone’s garden, not Nico. This comment is also only made in his thoughts, not outloud.

Funnily enough Leo does mentally refer to Nico as creepy in MoA

Nico and Hazel shared a look, maybe comparing notes on their Hades/Pluto death radar. Leo shivered. Hazel had never seemed like a child of the Underworld to him, but Nico di Angelo—that guy was creepy. (Mark of Athena page 396)

In HoH it is used once by Jason in regards to Nico, not at all by Percy.

Nico gave him a thin, creepy smile. ‘Ah … that legend.’ (House of Hades page 164)

In BoO it’s actually used by Nico about himself.

By now, Will Solace realized just how creepy and revolting Nico di Angelo was. Of course, Nico didn’t care what he thought. But still … (Blood of Olympus page 317)

And once by Reyna about Nico

Reyna had stitched up the gashes on his biceps, which gave Nico a slightly creepy Frankenstein look, but the cuts were still swollen and red. (Blood of Olympus page 140)

So uh, no Percy did not call Nico creepy. And I have found no evidence of Percy spreading rumors so like with the threats, feel free to find me quotes proving that claim.

Concluding all of this I will point out that prior to book 5 (TLO) Percy was doing everything in his power to find Nico and protect him. After book 5 Percy only had one physical altercation with him (when he was half asleep and right after the betrayal occurred) and otherwise did not hold it against him beyond having his trust broken. As time went on we know from Percy’s thoughts that he doesn’t trust Nico, but he makes no comments saying such and agrees to help rescue him and does everything he can to do so.

Their conflicts are understandable due to their history. Percy’s feelings on Nico are complicated but understandable and he has not let it interfere with their jobs, if anything it interfered in a negative way making them risk the quest to save Nico (though Nico was a key figure needed to succeed in the end).

Overall I don’t know where these claims come from beyond people wanting to find issues with Percy (to the point they make stuff up).

#life analyzes #pjo #hoo #percy jackson #nico di angelo #leo valdez #jason grace #reyna avila ramirez arellano #reyna arellano #this is not anti anyone #this is me stating the facts #pjo analysis #pjo meta

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hyunverse · 3 years

Text

BUNGA (FLOWER) | FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

gender neutral.

summary; you’re megumi’s dream person.

note; i wrote this bcs my birth name is actually a type of flower ugh the self indulgence also i like butterflies. also inspired by a song called bunga by masdo. i recommend listening to the song while reading. bunga means flower in malay!! also pls open the gif for better quality.

YOU REMIND MEGUMI OF A FLOWER. white orchids; they symbolize purity. and that’s exactly what you are to him.

fushiguro megumi remembers this one day when he and tsumiki had went to a flower garden together. he didn’t know why tsumiki suddenly felt like visiting a garden, but he followed anyway. he observed as his sister looked at the flowers around them, a smile never leaving her face and her eyes were practically sparkling. it felt nice to see his sister actually enjoy herself, especially after their parents got up and abandoned them, leaving tsumiki with all the house chores.

“look at all these flowers!”, tsumiki caressed the petals with her fingers, thumb gently gliding over the flowers, “they look so nice, don’t you think so megumi?”

megumi didn’t reply, he opted to stand beside his older sister. tsumiki explained the symbolisms of the flowers she knew of. the raven head looked stoic, as if he wasn’t listening to any of her words but the truth is, he was. he found the symbolism behind the white orchids particularly interesting. it suited the orchids’ physical appearance. white and innocence just made sense.

as the siblings chatted (though it technically was one sided on tsumiki’s part), a cat walked towards the duo. the ball of orange fur purred and nudged it’s head on tsumiki’s legs, immediately getting the teenage girl’s attention. she kneeled down, her previous smile growing wider.

petting the cat, she looked up at her younger brother, “aren’t cats so adorable?”.

“yeah,” megumi uttered. a lie. he wasn’t a big fan of cats, he found them annoying. dogs are better, that’s what he believed in but he didn’t have the heart to say that to his sister. not when she looks the happiest she had been in a while.

“and the weather’s really nice today!”, she added, eyes glancing up at the sky. the sun was glaring right into her eyes, so her pupils shrunk. she didn’t mind however, she had always loved sunny days. the sunlight shone right above their heads, and megumi didn’t like it. he could feel drops of sweat trickling down his back, causing his shirt to cling onto his skin. megumi much prefers when it’s cloudy, shades of grey in the sky, the perfect weather for staying at home and reading books.

even so, he just nodded, “mhm.”

shortly the sun started to set, spreading orange hues throughout the sky. flocks of birds returned to their nests, and so the fushiguro siblings made their way back to their abode. on their way tsumiki stole glances at her brother, letting out a dry chuckle everytime she notices the lack of expression on his face.

“you should smile more you know, megumi”, she ruffled his erratic hair, “you won’t get much friends if you keep on frowning like that”, she teased.

he grumbled, “i don’t care if i don’t have friends.”

megumi thought it was ridiculous. why would it matter, anyway? he’s fine being alone. people are bothersome; they’re too loud and they stress him out. especially the stupid punks in school who thinks they could do whatever they want. megumi simply shrugged and pushed his sister’s words out of his mind. scratch smiling and being likeable.

yet here he is, smiling at you. over no particular reason too.

currently, he’s walking along a beach with you. you; dressed up in a white sundress, a pair of sandals in your right hand. the sand burns under fushiguro’s feet but he couldn’t feel it over the fast thumping of his heart, he couldn’t feel the heat when his whole skin is tingling. he trolls behind you, walking over the footsteps you made. your sundress flows to the rhythm of your walk, flying slightly up when the wind blows your way, exposing the plush skin of your thighs. fushiguro looks away from your figure, his fair complexion tinted with blush.

you’re his best friend, he’s not supposed to look at you like that.

“it’s so nice here, megumi!”, you call out to him as you stand at the edge of the sea. waves crash, they trickle up to your toes. with a smile you hold up your hand for megumi to hold.

bashfully, megumi walks up to you and takes your hand in his. he’s reluctant, for he dislikes his hands. they’re cold and filled with callouses. so when you grip his hand as though you didn’t intend to let go, when your thumb rubs against his, he feels less insecure of his hands. the sensation of your hand in his is hot, it burns; however it feels nice.

megumi fushiguro hates warmth, but if it’s your warmth, he’d enjoy burning in heat.

the sand by the sea doesn’t feel hot on your feet. the waves get bigger and bigger; till they reach up to your ankles. you giggle because it tickled, the sound of your laughs reaching megumi’s ears. he turns to his side to see you crouching down, collecting the water in your hands.

that’s when megumi concluded, your whole existence screams purity.

a week later megumi meets you again. sometime at 11pm, by an oak tree—your usual meeting spot. the oak tree is large, it’s impossible to miss it. you stand under the oak tree, allowing dried leaves to fall onto your head, getting stuck in your hair. you know megumi would get all the leaves out of your hair. he does it everytime. he’ll pick out all the leaves out of your hair while lecturing you, though his words enter one ear then out from another. no matter how many times he says “i can’t do this all the time”, even he himself knows he would.

from afar megumi watches his best friend run around the flower field, chasing butterflies. your hair gets swept away by the wind as your hands stretch up to the sky, desperately trying to get a butterfly to land on your hand. you’re wearing a jumpsuit, the white color of the material truly brought out your skin tone. your complexion is glistening, and it makes megumi’s heart throb.

“they’re scared of you, y/n,” he finally says, putting both your hands down. the butterflies fly away from your sight, and you pout.

“but they’re so pretty,” you sigh, watching as the butterflies choose to fly anywhere but on your fingers. and then one lands on top of megumi’s shoulder.

your eyes widen, holding the sides of megumi’s figure to make him stay still. megumi could see sparks in your eyes when you admire the blue butterfly. soft is the expression you wear on your face. he likes it on you. that cute expression of yours makes megumi fall five times harder for you even when he knows he shouldn’t.

“you’re like a flower ‘gumi. it likes you.”

ridiculous, he thinks. you’re the flower. it’s obvious by the way your body moves under the moonlight, and how insanely beautiful you are.

fushiguro megumi doesn’t say anything in return, as always. he rarely does. if possible, he wants to avoid you from finding out just how in love he is with you.

after that day, you never show up under the oak tree, a few minutes distance from jujutsu high. he’ll wait for hours long only to be disappointed.

--at least not until his birthday comes, about a few months later. his face turns pale once he spotted you. you wait by the jujutsu high gate with a wide smile on his face, as if you didn’t ghost him for three months.

"glad to see you doing okay," the apple of your cheeks seem more prominent when you smile, megumi feels an urge to kiss them.

"i haven't seen you in so long," megumi mumbles, "happy to see you here today."

you grin and hold up your hand for him to take per usual, and didn’t mutter anymore words until the two of you reach a café in the outskirts of tokyo.

“nice café,” the raven comments , glancing at you. you’re wearing a puffy sleeved white blouse now—honestly, do you only own white clothes?

“found it on instagram”, you mutter, “i thought you’d like it. happy birthday, megumi.”

megumi smiles for the first time today. as a jazz song plays, he eats the birthday cake you purchased for him quietly. the cake tastes delicious (to be fair, anything you buy him is perfect) because it’s not too sweet. the fact that you remember his preference makes his smile grow a little wider.

you hum to the song and rest your head on his shoulder. it seems like the two of you are the only ones in the café—a much needed privacy. you’re usually touchy with him, and he prefers affection to be private. typically they make megumi blush, and he doesn’t want people to witness him all flustered.

“did you miss me, megumi?”, he replies to your question by nodding and placing his hand on top of yours.

serenity is this feeling, megumi thinks.

at the corner of the café stands an antique grandfather clock. it’s sounds are so loud, they resonate the whole environment. megumi suddenly becomes hyper aware of the sound, there’s a pounding in his head. the sound becomes louder and louder, to the point where megumi couldn’t feel your skin under his. he shuts his eyes close, an impossibly bright light glares his eyes.

“fushiguroooo!”, an annoying voice yells. itadori’s voice, megumi is certain.

the pounding in his head slows down. his sapphire eyes flutter open, and he realizes the light he saw was sunlight rays peeking through his blinds.

“seriously fushiguro, we’ve been calling you for an hour now. hurry up, we’re going out to eat in five. to celebrate your birthday”, megumi looks up to see nobara standing behind itadori.

they’re both leaning against his door frame. itadori is dressed in a yellow hoodie, while nobara rocks a coat over a turtleneck. the female sorcerer holds her toy hammer tight in her grip, her eyes boring through megumi’s figure. by her posture, megumi guesses she was about to hit him with the squeaky hammer if only he didn’t wake up sooner.

fucking menaces, they could’ve left him to sleep for a little more. he hasn’t seen you in so long, he wanted to sleep in to spend time with you.

finally rubbing his eyes awake, the boy looks at the vase of orchids sitting on his nightstand. he sighs before standing up.

megumi will find you someday, he promises. if you’re a flower, he’ll gladly be the butterfly.

✉ taglist: @aliteama @dearsukuna @cybergoo @hanniemilk @ariasann @soulasdarkascoffee @okusetomura @eidotheiapriv @maat-the-prescriptive @etoilezone @elipres @scarednekozz @iridescentkitsune @crapimahuman @nectar0sw33t @hq149 @bluedelphinium @bokutos-babyowl @behan @tdntu0 @sunaluvs @guardianangelswings @fairywriter-oracle @inu-makki @erinisbadger

tagging; @candleohappiness , @haru-senji <333

#fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjkmag #megumi fluff #fushiguro megumi fluff #megumi imagines #megumi x gn reader #fushiguro megumi imagines #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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moonbaby26 · 3 years

Text

Title: Escape

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Notes: Actual pairing interaction starts in the second section after the Reader character gets out of the elevator, feel free to skip down to that if you like. Reader thinks about Peter in the first section, but it is more setting up how they got so separated from the others, plus a Wolvie cameo. I wanted Peter x Reader to be able to have more interaction away from the group.

Summary: Continuation of previous chapter. Set during X-Men: Age of Apocalypse. You and the others have been taken to Stryker’s base and must survive to find your way out together.

Warnings: Wolverine cameo advisory with a 100% chance of stabby stab. Mild language.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

——————————

“The day of reckoning is here.”

Your eyes opened at once, that unmistakeable voice now reverberating through your mind as fluorescent lights passed one after another above you.

“Professor?” You breathed aloud, immediately trying to sit up on the moving gurney.

But the restraints were drawn too tightly as your head only rebounded backward just as quickly when your torso didn’t rise in tandem.

“Shit!” the guard to your left cursed, his hand drawing back from the gurney rail at your sudden movement.

You turned your head towards him, confused, even as the professor’s words continued in your mind.

Yet Xavier’s voice sounded strange, forced. And you didn’t understand the context. Was it a warning? A threat to someone?

It didn’t really seem to fit the current circumstances to say it was directed at you or your captors. But he only kept speaking.

“The dawn of a new era will emerge. For there is nothing you can do...to stop what is coming.”

The two guards were looking around too then, reacting in sync with the telepathic message leaving you no doubt that they could hear it as well.

But why would Xavier be in their heads too? Did he already know where you were?

One guard chided the other, as if the two of them didn’t both have the same frightened expression. “Damn stun pulse is wearing off it is all, just hurry up and finish this transport. Colonel Stryker wants it taken to the lower testing bay,”

“Don’t tell me you aren’t hearing that voice?” The other guard retorted, “What the hell is that?”

Did they just call you an ‘it’? What was this place? Not a hospital surely. But you could barely dwell on the implications of the guard’s words ‘lower testing bay’, and the impending threat that represented as your last memories finally began to bubble up.

The X-Mansion in rubble, the helicopters swooping in over the trees, the students and staff unconscious in the grass, that soldier cracking your ribs, and-

Peter.

He was a stranger to you still, but he’d been right there against you. Surely you had drawn more attention to him just because your powers had let you resist a few moments longer than the others. Because you’d been so stubborn, not going down until you’d been forced to.

If these men had hurt any of your friends, you would be furious. But if Peter, who had also saved so many of your friends was now in more severe danger because of your actions, you wouldn’t forgive yourself.

“Where did you take the others!?” You arched against the restraints abruptly, your palms opening to face upward, trying to summon any bit of your energy at all. A wisp, an orb, anything that could have helped you right now. You had to find your friends.

But nothing came. Not even a glow or flicker of what you truly were as you now had both guards’ full attention.

“Freak! Just shut up!” One of them shoved the gurney in retaliation to your outburst, the caster wheels rattling across the concrete floor before the bed rail hit against one of the walls, jarring you painfully.

“Those with the greatest power. Protect those without. That's my message to the world.”

Xavier concluded his words then. And somehow, that sounded more like himself than any of the rest of it. The real meaning still eluded you, but hearing him in that tone at least meant he was okay. He was somewhere urging the rest of you on. At least this part you knew was true as you took a calming breath, realizing panic and anger would serve you nothing right now.

Something was blocking your powers. That much was obvious. It would be unrealistic to think that the effects of any stun weapon would be this long lasting though.

On the other hand, you knew chemicals existed that could also temporarily block mutations. Hank used one almost medicinally whenever he didn’t wish to be in his true “Beast” form. But it had to be injected direct into the veins to have any real effect.

You could feel that they hadn’t removed any of your clothing, nor had they rolled up the long sleeves you were wearing. You doubted they would risk a chemical like that wearing off at an inopportune time and likely would have started an IV if they possessed anything of that nature.

There were no tubes or lines attached to you that you could tell, only the restraints now holding you to this bed. Leather straps across your body, metal cuffs on your ankles and wrists-

But wait, you were able to move your head as you’d already discovered. You shifted it again, trying to get a better feel of what was around your neck. Metal as well, but loose as you could still lift your head up enough to see it just a bit. It and its dull, red status light.

Inhibitor collar, you realized with an all new dread sinking in. You had heard of these of course, but it was the kind of thing that students sheltered at Xavier’s school would never have to dream of really. Something you never thought you’d have to experience personally.

How naive.

But you still couldn’t give up. Your mind was racing as you tried to come up with any strategies now. Your options were so limited, but they couldn’t keep you tied down forever. Surely they’d have to move you to a more permanent containment at some point, untie you if even for a moment.

Yet, there were guns as well. You hadn’t missed that detail, but you considered it more fully now as you glanced to the long barrells swaying behind each guard’s back as they pushed you along.

They were slowing now though. You raised your head enough again to see elevator doors nearing. The lower testing bay, you remembered them saying.

But just as one guard had started to reach for the keypad beside the doors, an alarm blared, all three of you startling at the sound.

Orange lights lit up along the walls, spinning in time with the sirens.

“Weapon X is loose. I repeat, Weapon X is loose!” A man’s unnerved voice sounded over speakers you couldn’t see, echoing down the corridors.

You could only watch as both guards spun around on their heels at that, guns immediately drawn. The one thing you could be absolutely sure of then, was that you were now the very least of their concerns.

Before you could consider how to use this surprise in your favor though, screams and the echo of gunfire erupted seemingly on top of you all.

The guards were terrified. This could be your only chance.

“Take this collar off of me, please! I can help you!” You weren’t begging as much as you were truly trying to reason with them. “Look, this is serious right!?”

More men were screaming just around the corner. Only feet away now. Clearly their time to consider had run out.

You saw one of the guards glance down at you, weighing your offer if just for that moment. The other was still staring straight ahead, gun braced, body rigid.

“FIRE!” The one not looking at you screamed, and that was it. It was too late.

You flinched as the gunfire rang deafening in your ears, the muzzle flashes just above you while empty bullet shells rained onto the floor.

You didn’t know how many bullets their gun magazines could hold, but the barrage seemed to just go on and on until an inhuman snarl rose even above the pounding gunshots.

Like a blur he was upon them. One guard was immediately thrown against a nearby wall, as if he were made of paper. His gun didn’t even faze the attacker.

You were frozen as you had to watch him die in front of you. Metal blades impaled the guard, blood splatter running down the wall as his body fell. You wished the other guard would have just turned and ran, but that probably would have been fruitless now too if you were being honest.

The attacker had turned immediately back around, one slash knocking the gun away from the remaining guard, and the second taking out his throat.

You were too in shock to do anything but close your eyes in the moment you felt some of the blood hit you. It was warm was all you could really process, before you opened your eyes again to now see the killer standing over you.

His breath was fast, eyes black, no emotion evident but rage. He had no clothing on him above the waist, just muscular and bloodied with metal cords coming out of his body and attaching to some sort of helmet.

You heard the random sound of more bits of metal hitting the ground, and thought you saw a few bullets working out in reverse from his flesh.

He was one of you then, a mutant.

But you were afraid to speak. Anything could set him off again.

He was looking down at you, through you really. You thought you saw his eyes go to your throat. The collar? Or maybe you just imagined it. Everything was happening in just seconds.

His arm swung suddenly, those blades were part of him you realized, attached to his fists as they came for you. At least it would be a quick death.

You felt a burning, heard ripping and even the metal of the bed breaking as he struck more than once.

“He’s here!” Someone else screamed from back down the hallway and the gunfire started all over again.

You moved at the sound, why you didn’t know, it should have been all over regardless. But in your amazement, you realized you could move. His claws had broken through the restraints, broken the bolts that held you to the bed. You were bleeding, but only from cuts as he’d grazed you.

He’d freed you.

The gurney tumbled over with a clatter as you jumped from it. But bullets were hitting all around you as the guards continued to fire at him. You still had the inhibitor collar on, so you couldn’t defend from that. You weren’t bulletproof like him.

And he was already charging them again, but there were so many this time. A bullet grazed your arm, and you knew you had to get out of there now.

You turned, hitting the elevator keypad. You had no choice as you wouldn’t make it out of this hallway otherwise. You ducked inside as soon as the doors opened, trying to stay against the sides even as bullets were now hitting the back of the elevator. The only way was down, and you took it.

As the doors closed, and the elevator finally sank below the firing line, you allowed yourself some real breaths.

To think, just hours ago your main concern had only been whether or not you were ready for Hank’s organic chemistry final. You’d laugh if you weren’t still trembling a little, clothes torn and blood all over, most of it not even your own.

Now it was time to find the others and a way out.

—————————

“(Y/N)?” You heard in your mind, pausing in the abandoned hallway you were now wandering down. You’d left the elevator behind some time ago, but hadn’t yet found any other way back off this level.

“Jean?” You answered aloud, both surprised and relieved. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. We are now. I saw them take you too, but where are you?”

Talking to a telepath was always a bit strange. You could feel her own stress and anxiety as she began to fill your mind. She wanted to see what you were seeing.

You looked around you to oblige her, but from what you could tell every corridor only looked like more of the same in this labyrinth.

“I got into an elevator when all the shooting started, when that man-“

“Logan. We met him too. He’s escaped now, he-” She paused, your recent memories now visible to her. “He helped you.”

“He did.” You felt she both was and wasn’t surprised at this.

“Anyway,” She continued as if something was distracting her, like she was physically talking to someone else, while mentally talking to you. “The Professor needs us. We’re sending Peter to find you. He’ll bring you to us and then we’re leaving together.”

“Okay,” Was all you could answer, as you felt Jean leave your mind abruptly at that. You remembered Xavier’s odd speech earlier, something you really hadn’t had time to deconstruct any further with everything else that had happened immediately after. You supposed they would fill you in when you were all reunited.

But you did feel a significant weight leave your shoulders at the mention of Peter’s name, even though it sounded like this horrific day was still far from over. He was okay too then at least. You hadn’t screwed up enough to get him hurt in a way you couldn’t take back.

Yet how long would it take for him to find you? Should you just stay in place, or go back to the elevator now? You hadn’t found any stairwells or other-

“(Y/N)?”

You’d be lying to say you didn’t almost fall over in surprise as a tiny gust of air was the only other thing that announced him as Peter was suddenly standing beside you.

“You’re as bad as Kurt!” You gasped, before you could stop yourself. You clenched one fist at your side, at least having the self control not to punch him right in the arm as you might have done with some of the boys at school if they had given you that kind of scare.

“That’s the blue kid with the tail right? Not to be confused with the big blue hairy guy, he’s the one that told me your name by the way, or the blue famous chick from TV?” He shook his head, but his eyes were amused. “You guys have some kind of quota on the color blue or what?”

You stared at him. He did like to talk didn’t he?

When you didn’t respond right away, you saw his eyes wander down, then back up. “Red said you’d be a bit of a mess, but you sure you’re okay?”

Your shirt was torn from well, now you knew him as Logan...that man’s claws. Those cuts were still bleeding a bit, but the guard’s blood was on you as well. The metal shackles were also still on your wrists and ankles, though their chains had been broken, and the inhibitor collar was around your neck. Yes, you must look quite a sight.

“You mean Jean,” you corrected. She must have given him some warning at least before sending him. “Yeah, I’m fine. So you found another way out of here, we should-”

But he didn’t seem to be listening, either that or you weren’t very convincing on the being okay sentiment.

He looked quite serious all of the sudden. “I’m sorry I didn’t help you when Colonel douchebag was trying to work you over.”

You blinked. What was he talking about?

“Stryker I guess they said his name was, the guy that kicked you back at the house.” He just continued. “That piece of shit bailed already.”

“How did you know about that?” You asked honestly. Peter had been unconscious as far as you’d known.

“I mean I was in and out,” He answered, seemingly understanding your confusion now. “But uh...” He hesitated, kind of an awkward smirk building then. “I definitely remember you laying on me. The impact wasn’t that great, but afterward was pretty nice.”

Your felt a heat rising to your face immediately. The absurdity of being physically embarrassed at his implication and tone, as you stood here literally bleeding in the belly of some mutant torturing black ops lab was not lost on you.

“Look, I...” You didn’t even know what to say, but you knew if you didn’t start talking now you were never going to recover control here. “I’m really glad they didn’t hurt you, and I’m sorry too if I got you involved deeper in all of this. And I want to thank you for pulling everyone out of the mansion this morning. We owe you so much. I just-” Oh man, where were you even going with this? You looked to him still feeling like you were just digging yourself deeper, “You can stop me anytime now you know?”

He was now outright grinning. “You’re welcome, babe.”

Not helping. AT ALL.

You were staring at him again. “They’re going to be waiting on us, you know,” You felt you were going to be pleading with him in a moment.

“I know, places to be, worlds to save...” He just moved closer and you tensed a little bit. He noticed, but stood his ground. “I have to brace you or you’re just going to be hurt even more when I run you back to them.”

“So is that how you do it, then? You’re just that fast?” You asked honestly. His actual mutation wasn’t something there’d been any chance to discuss. You could infer only so many ways he would have been able to evacuate those in the mansion almost instantaneously. But you knew teleporters too, even people who could move through reality on other planes. There was always more than one way to do something.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” He chuckled, smirking enough for you to know he was still just picking with you as one of his hands went behind your head and the other to your ribs to brace you. He really did know where you’d been hit then.

His hands were warm, and you could smell that damn cologne again now as you tried to ready yourself for whatever was about to happen.

You didn’t know what you had expected. You knew how it felt to take off in a jet, or slam the gas pedal down in one of the Professor’s expensive cars, or ride on a really intense roller coaster. But this wasn’t that. There wasn’t even any time for your brain to register the acceleration. It felt like just a single heartbeat before you were standing back in front of those elevator doors with him.

It was the deceleration that hit you. By the time your body knew it was moving, it had already stopped again, your organs lurching and your equilibrium completely thrown off as vertigo took over. You leaned forward immediately, trying not to dry heave as puking seemed almost imminent.

He took one of your hands, his other hand moving down from your ribs to your waist as he helped support you still.

“It’ll pass. It happens to everyone the first time,” He spoke, probably the softest tone you’d heard from him to this point.

“You’re telling me there are people who have been-” You swallowed, fighting that nausea back down. “have been with you multiple times?” You meant to say multiple times like that. People who needed to be rescued this way multiple times. You stood up, still queasy as you tried to face him and correct this blunder immediately. Why did this guy have you so flustered!?

“I’m not normally like this,” you stammered, waiting for some great retort from him as you’d just left yourself wide open with that slip.

It was only then that you realized he still had one hand on your waist, and you were now facing him, just inches apart. And the silence was worse. It was much worse while he was just looking back at you.

“No,” He finally said, “I uh...I don’t have anyone that’s stayed around long enough for that.”

He wasn’t joking at all now and you knew it.

“I didn’t mean...” You started, but stopped again when you didn’t know how to finish.

But the vulnerability was gone just as soon as it’d come. His smirk returned as he let go of you, moving forward to hit the keypad for the elevator. “I did look for stairwells by the way, if you were wondering. It only took me as long as it did to find you down here because this damn elevator is slow as hell.”

You actually were a little relieved to finally be focusing back to the task at hand. But you still felt an unspoken conversation lingering that would need to be continued later. You wanted him to know who you really were.

And honestly...you now wanted to know who he really was.

The harsh buzz from the keypad brought you back to attention as Peter hit it again.

A tiny screen blinked “CODE ERROR” in red as he groaned. “It didn’t need a damn code to come down, that makes no sense!”

You responded in a few moments, realizing the likely truth fairly quickly. “But it would make sense if you were more concerned about things getting out of the lab than you were of things getting in.” The same would be true for the lack of entry and exit points. They surely weren’t concerned with fire safety or anything else but keeping their specimens captive when they built this place.

“Ugh, that’s dark,” He answered, glancing at you and then back to the keypad. “You’re almost making me not feel so bad for all the guys that looked like swiss cheese on the way down here. But lucky for you, you’ve got me, and these five hombres.” He waved his fingers at you before immediately beginning to punch in multiple codes in faster succession than of course would have been possible for anyone else.

“Peter, I don’t think-” You started, already having a good suspicion of how this might play out, before the keypad abruptly quit accepting inputs, the tiny screen then blinking LOCKOUT. The only thing that did surprise you was a new even thicker door suddenly closing over the original elevator doors.

And you couldn’t help it then. You laughed. A real laugh. It was just the dumbest icing on the cake. “Okay, Han Solo. I think that will do.” You didn’t care if he would understand the reference or not. You needed that laugh right now.

But he didn’t let you down. Not even for a moment. “Okay then Leia, then you show me how we’re getting past here to save the ugly little ewoks.”

You were still snickering a little, but you shook your head. “I can’t,” You motioned to the inhibitor collar still around your neck. “Not with this on. It’s blocking my powers.” You had hoped once you were all back topside that Hank would be able to disarm the thing. It was probably radio controlled or something like that. “We’ll have to wait on Jean and the others to realize we’re taking too long, they’ll come for us.”

“I don’t wait,” Peter retorted. “Besides, like I said, I showed you mine. Time to show me yours.” He tilted his head, eyeing you. “Really, I’ve been dying to know.”

“Sure you have,” You were skeptical, but it was actually hard to read him right now. Was he actually that curious about you? “And I’ve already tried to take it off, it doesn’t budge.”

“Again, babe. You didn’t have me before.” The smug tone was back, as he evidently had some plan you didn’t know if you were going to like or not.

“You realize, this thing is nearly against my jugular veins, right? What are you going to do?” You had every right to be hesitant you thought. Especially after the keypad failure.

“Just be still. I’m going to vibrate it apart.” He answered confidently.

Okay, now you really didn’t like this. “Again, head, throat, things I need to stay in one piece. What if it has some self destruct thing and explodes?”

“I can pull you away from that before it even burns you. How do you think your friends lived when your house blew up this morning?”

You could have mentioned Alex’s fate then, but that would have been needlessly cruel. Alex must have already been gone before Peter even entered the building. He did save everyone else you thought.

“Trust me,” Peter looked you in the eyes and you could feel yourself relenting.

You really did believe him it seemed. Hopefully that faith was not misplaced. “Please be careful,” You closed your eyes, going stock still.

“For you? Of course.”

You heard his jacket move, which told you he was raising his arms. Internally you tensed-

And then all you heard were pieces of metal and circuitry skittering across the floor in every direction. You were still standing exactly as you had been as you opened your eyes to a too pleased with himself Peter.

“Some shrapnel did try to go into your face, but I moved the pieces. No kaboom though.” His expression changed then to happily expectant, “So come on, I’ve helped three times now, the stage is now yours,” He made an exagerrated motion to the big metal door now blocking the elevator. “What’s your poison?”

Poison? An interesting way to put it, but you knew what he meant. All mutant abilities were both a gift and a curse. Yet even after all these years of meeting people of your own kind, it was still very personal to show someone your real self for the very first time.

Especially when you evidently cared what he thought of you as you realized your nerves were suddenly about much more than just being able to get open a door or not. How would he react?

You took a breath, still extremely aware of his eyes on you as you turned your palms upward. It was always easiest to start with your hands. But you’d need to bring the energy all the way through you to get the kind of power it was going to take to pull this door out.

There was a slight relief in you as your hands began to glow white after a moment. At least you knew you were no longer defenseless, that these people hadn’t taken your abilities permanently.

In your peripheral vision you could see Peter shift, but you didn’t look to him, trying to concentrate as the energy spread up your arms and you closed your eyes. It always felt so warm, like being in the sun on a clear day. It spread to your chest, legs, up your shoulders and over your face. Even through your hair as you willed the energy to lift you up, now completely enveloped until you were a silhouette of a person. Glowing in soft white light and levitating about a foot off the floor.

You opened your eyes again, feeling you had things in control enough now to speak to him. The tone of your voice changed slightly in this form though. There was a hum to it, the energy moving across your vocal chords like every other part of you.

“I’m going to try and pull the door out of the way and into the hall. Please be ready to move as I won’t have a lot of control over it once it gives. My effort is going to all be on breaking it.”

You looked to him after a moment though when he didn’t respond. You knew he was fast enough to keep himself safe obviously, but you had to be sure he was ready. Was he really just staring at you? “Peter?”

He blinked. “Yeah, uh. That’s...” He stepped back from the door, but never took his eyes off you, this weird expression on his face. “That’s cool.”

“Please mind the door,” You reiterated gently, not quite sure what to make of his reaction to your powers.

“Sure, sure thing.” He sounded more like himself then. “Do your deal.”

Your deal as he put it, involved willing this same energy now in a field around the door as you rose your hand up to control it. Once you were sure you had it solidly, you began pulling your hand back, trying to pull the door out of its railing.

It gradually started to creak, but like you’d thought, this was going to take some real doing. You pulled harder and harder, the metal just groaning louder. “Come on,” You spoke, not really sure if you were talking more to yourself or the door.

Your arm was starting to really ache with the effort. But just when you thought you might have to try something else after all, you finally felt the door give. And when it gave, it did so spectacularly. This massive chunk of metal collapsed, exploding out of its rail as it rocketed down the hallway. You just moved to the side to avoid it, the smaller pieces hitting you harmlessly in this form.

To your eyes it only looked like Peter disappeared and then reappeared as he also easily missed all the debris.

Once that obstacle was out of the way, you glided down, back to the normal elevator doors. They were slightly damaged from the removal of the larger door. But now it only took minimum effort to force them open.

You entered the elevator, the inner keypad was also blinking that same “LOCKOUT” error from earlier. So the elevator itself was going nowhere. But this was now no longer an issue for you.

“I can carry us up,” You looked to Peter, though unsure how comfortable he would be with this new idea.

He was standing at the entrance of the elevator already, watching you still. You could see the wheels in his head turning. And then he finally asked. “So, you’re glowing...and flying. Is this like radioactive glow, or I just need some sunscreen kind of glow?”

“It’s just light energy in the visible spectrum.” You answered reflexively. “But not even UV, the wavelength itself doesn’t cause any damage. It’s only when I make it solid or make it unstable that I can do anything harmful with it.”

You could see he may have skipped the lessons on long and short wave energy and radiation in science class as he just kept staring.

“You’re fine, it’s safe” You smiled. Certainly not the first time you had heard such questions. “The Professor and Hank had me tested from the very beginning, I never would have been allowed so close to other students without more precautions if I was that dangerous.”

“So you’re...close to some other students?” He asked almost tauntingly, one eyebrow raised, and it took you a moment before you realized he may be getting back at you for your comments from before.

It was probably just the fact that you were in your energy form now, but you felt confident enough to respond just as quickly, “It’s more like the Brady Bunch than what you’re thinking. Like having a whole house of little brothers and sisters.”

You had already opened up the ceiling of the elevator while the two of you talked, looking up now to the empty shaft and elevator cables. It’d be much easier to move the two of you rather than to try and lift the whole elevator. You reached a hand out to Peter. “I can lift us up the shaft to the floor that the others are on and open the doors, then you can take us to them. Deal?”

You had trusted him to bring you here, as well as to remove that collar from you. Would he now trust you to bring him up several floors without dropping him?

He was looking at your hand. “I probably could just run up the walls you know.”

You paused, realizing you hadn’t considered that. You didn’t really know what all he was capable of truly. But just as you started to lower your hand, he surprised you by grabbing and holding it.

“Yet how many guys can say they flew with you, huh?”

“Practically none,” You admitted. “I don’t make a habit of picking up my friends.”

“You aren’t quite building confidence here.”

“I’m sure that door weighed more than you.”

“And look how it ended up. Again, not comforting.”

This guy was truly something else. “Come here, we take much longer and they really are going to be sending a search party for us.”

You extended the energy from your hand across his body gently. He was obviously much lighter than the door, and the closer you kept him, the easier it would be to move the both of you.

You tried not to make eye contact with him again as you levitated the two of you through the top of the elevator and up through the shaft. Even though you knew you were fully capable of doing this, you still didn’t want to lose focus.

But his voice didn’t sound frightened at all as he spoke up to let you know how high to go. “They’re on the top floor, we’re stealing a jet to get out of here.”

“Wow, but okay. Got it,” You sped up a little at that, no longer worried about passing your landing point as you went straight to the top.

When you reached the highest doors, you were able to force them open with a turn of your free hand, bringing you and Peter safely through and back onto solid ground.

You powered down immediately as your feet met the floor, the light fading back into your body until you were just standing there in your torn, bloody clothes once more. “Okay, I’m ready to get nauseous again, let’s go.”

He actually squeezed your hand before he let go of it in order to brace your head and ribs again. “For the record that felt pretty good. You’re really warm. Zero g’s was cool too. Thanks.”

“Um...you’re welcome?” You answered, a little flustered all over again to your own dismay, and really not knowing what else to say before he whisked you away in an instant.

It really was going to be the longest day ever.

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

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