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sweetercalypso · 5 months

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Around the Tree || Joel Miller

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: For their first winter in Jackson, Joel plans to surprise Ellie with a Christmas tree. When he runs into a problem with his decorations, he turns to you for help

Notes: no warnings! mutual pining, Hallmark level fluff, kissing, no reader pronouns

Winter in Jackson is like a scene from a movie.

The mountains surrounding the small Wyoming town are topped with fresh, white snow, embracing the settlement in a picturesque seclusion that lasts until spring breaks through the frozen landscape sometime in March.

The streets are lit with decorative lights and displays that take weeks to set up, and the townspeople are eager to spend the last days of the year outside despite the bitter cold and the icy conditions that should keep them indoors.

Their dedication to the holidays is an admirable feat in a world that has largely forgotten about tradition.

Shortly after settling down in Jackson, Joel realizes that Ellie has never experienced the joys of the holiday season, and he’s determined to show her what she’s missing. For his first gift to her, he brings home a Christmas tree.

Born and raised in the heat of the South, Joel hadn’t had much experience with snow until after the world had already fallen apart. By then, the winter season was a dreadful grievance rather than something to be celebrated.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d seen a Christmas tree, but the one in the center of town was clearly cherished by the community, and it inspired him to celebrate the holidays for the first time since he’d left Texas.

Finding the tree was easy enough, and getting it back to his house had only required a bit of goodwill from Tommy and the help of some neighbors he’d yet to learn the names of. They’d been more than happy to lend a hand, brushing off Joel’s offer to pay them back. Maybe there’s still some good left in the world after all.

The fresh-cut tree gets placed in the corner of living room, tall enough that it skims the ceiling, still smelling of fir and camphor from the thick, Wyoming forest. Joel scratches the growing scruff on his cheeks as he stands back to admire it’s grandeur.

Beyond the beauty of the bare Christmas tree, Joel’s house is decidedly lacking in holiday spirit. He’d scrounged up a handful of trinkets from the previous homeowners’ belongings, but there were surprisingly few ornaments left behind, making him wonder how many houses they’d cleared out to supply the festivities in the center of town.

This is a problem he hadn’t expected to face.

He’d found a stand for the tree and cleared a spot before bringing it home, and he’d even sought out a collection of comic books to wrap and give to Ellie on Christmas morning. But without any ornaments to decorate it’s many branches, the tree looked too rustic, too ordinary to fit the Christmas scene he’d envisioned.

With his jacket bundled around his broad frame and his pair of snow boots laced up tightly, Joel sets out to find the one person who might have a solution to his problem – you.

As their next-door neighbor, you’d been the first person to welcome Joel and Ellie after Tommy and Maria brought them to town. There weren’t many people who were willing to look past Joel’s initial gruff demeanor, but you’d never once doubted his slow and hesitant acclimation to life in Jackson.

Joel struggled to balance your friendly relationship and the growing interest he felt towards you, fearing that it’d snowball into something that he wasn’t ready for after twenty years of grief and persistent bad luck. Instead, he’d kept you at a distance, swallowing the feelings he had for you.

He finds himself checking his appearance in the reflection of your front room windows after he knocks, an anxious string of thoughts running through his mind. What if you have company over? What if you’re not home? What if you think this idea is dumb? What if-

“Joel?”

The scent of cinnamon and a nostalgic warmth greets him along with your voice, soft and cheery against the sound of winter wind.

“What’re you doing out here? It’s too cold to be outside- you’ll freeze.”

He shrugs and offers a sheepish smile, trying his best to look unbothered by the brisk temperature. Boston winters were brutal and grey, nothing like the crystalline scenery that graces Wyoming. Even still, the idyllic frost has been known to turn deadly.

“I, uh- I need your help with something.”

“Oh,” you reply, shifting to lean against the door. “What’d you need?”

He explains the situation in full detail and you grow more interested with each word, practically beaming by the time he finishes his story.

“I have just the thing,” you tell him. “I’ll be over in five.”

As if by some miracle, you’d found an entire box of Christmas ornaments when you were pulling out your winter storage earlier in the season, but you didn’t have a tree to display your newfound treasures. This seemed like the perfect way to solve both your problems.

You’re standing on Joel’s porch five minutes later, just as you’d promised, holding as many boxes as you could carry. Joel’s eyes widen when he opens the door, and he ushers you inside with a quite huff of laughter.

“What is all this?” he asks, taking his share of the boxes and guiding you towards the living room.

“I brought everything you need for your first Christmas in Jackson,” you reply, admiring his choice of tree with a nod of approval. “Ornaments, tinsel, wrapping paper – it’s all here.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I can’t thank you enough for this.”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as Joel turns his attention to the boxes strewn out in front of him. Maybe it’s the serenity of the holiday season, but it feels like you’re meant to be celebrating together rather than spending Christmas apart. Before you can make a move to leave, Joel surprises you by grabbing your hand in his.

“I really appreciate this,” he says earnestly, thumb rubbing across your knuckles. There’s a bright glimmer in his eyes that you’ve never seen before, one that you silently hope you get to see again. “Would you want to… stay?”

The burning apples of Joel’s cheeks betray his nonchalant demeanor, and you’re sure you look just as flustered by his unexpected offer. A warmth settles in your chest when you think about spending the holidays with the older Miller brother.

“Yeah,” you reply, lips curling into a smile. “I’d like that.”

An hour later, you’re both covered in glitter and tiny strings of tinsel, laughing about the state of Joel’s Christmas tree.

A constellation of lights and shiny garland decorate the many branches, twisting around the tree in an awkward spiral that you’d given up on keeping straight halfway down. It looks better this way you tell yourself. More personal.

“Careful with this one, looks like it’s seen better days.”

Joel hands you a frosted glass bulb with snowflakes printed on it, one of the many ornaments pulled from the supplies you’d brought over. You find a place for it between a faded plastic reindeer and an angel dusted with glitter.

All of the ornaments seem to have a story behind them, each a sentimental piece of someone’s lost traditions. You hope you can add your own meaning to their cherished forms.

Joel hands you the last ornament and takes a step back to observe the whole scene, nodding to himself with one hand tucked in the pocket of his jeans. When you’re finally satisfied with the tree’s arrangement, you join him in admiring your handywork.

“It’s perfect,” you say, glancing over at Joel with a sincere smile. He turns to meet your gaze and he’s suddenly aware of how much he appreciates your presence. There’s always been an unspoken affinity between the two of you, but this day has made Joel realize that he wants more.

In a pleasant surprise to you both, Joel dips down and molds his mouth to yours, gently cupping the back of your neck to pull you closer. When you part, you’re too stunned to speak, opting instead to press another kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He hums lowly and wraps an arm around your waist, content to stand here as long as you’ll stay with him.

This is exactly how the holidays are meant to be spent; not flaunted with flashy celebrations or spent alone in a QZ apartment, but rather by creating cherished moments with the people you care about.

Joel might’ve brought home a Christmas tree for Ellie’s sake, but he’s the one who needed it the most.

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #the last of us x reader #the last of us fluff #tlou #tlou x reader #tlou fluff #tlou x you #christmas fic #christmas fluff

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omenics · 1 year

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𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌.

..cw for mentions of pregnancy, (seemingly) one-sided love, although i believe that’s it. very self indulgent.

› ..vittorio has left again, and you silently hope that your knight fills the void you had lost. fem reader. — hi dbd community. i am fulfilling my will to write for this mf even tho i dont play dbd 👍 but anyways enjoy the thing inspired by wolven storm from the witcher bc it slays and ignore how bad it is im bored and need to write stuff lmfao

Life was always filled with misfortunes, all being thrown at one over and over until sometimes it was too much. But to you, not everything was bad. The beating rays of the Italian sun rained down with relentless heat, and to those unfortunate enough to farm when the sun was at its peak, or to even dawn armour from head to toe gained your sympathies.

Although the keep was warm, it was not as hot as it was outside and you were thankful— but the layers of fabric that had adorned your bodice stuck to your skin and bound all heat to your body. Perhaps you were unfortunate as well, for your clothing was soaked and sticking to you; but such was normal for summers and as a lady of the house you had to endure. Vittorio was gone on yet another expedition, leaving you alone to your own devices. You wondered how he was managing through the hot summer, however you assumed well. He was smart, and had probably found a way to keep cool if he was still in this familiar climate.

Your mind wandered to the men clad in armour, how they had been feeling as the sun beat down upon the hot metal— they were nearly fainting you bet, and your eyes wandered to Tarhos.

He stood by the door alone, his back turned to you as you tried to relish the cool breeze flowing in from your window. It was much too hot to be doing anything, and you had chosen to sulk in your quarters. The knight at your door was tall, and you had known his armour was heavy just by its look. You wondered if he was suffocating as the hot, humid air never lifted just as you— but he was different, and was the Guardia Compagnia.

Your husband left them home this time instead of taking them on his journey, and you were happy.

Although rarely spoken to, you were fond of Tarhos. Perhaps you were drawn to him, to his tall stature and professional nature, more than a married lady should be— but you could not help it, as fantasies of your childhood sparked through your mind and heart while you gazed at him.

The thought of being a princess and having a knight in shining armour to come save you sent nostalgic excitement through you, remembering the storybooks you had grown to love and attach yourself to. When your marriage had come, you shook off the dreadful anxiety that came with it and hoped that you would live in a fairytale, in an ideal life that a lady would— however you had been wrong.

No child had barren your womb, and at times you were grateful— the others not. Perhaps you were only disappointed as that is what your life had groomed you to want, to carry children for your husband, or maybe you were disappointed because it caused a feeling of loneliness, of being loveless. You knew you loved your lord husband, but you wondered if he had loved you the same. He was busy, and had little time for your comforts— but that was what you had grown used to, and you solemnly accepted that you would have no children of your own, or a husband to fully love you.

At times you wondered if pursuing another would have been better, or if you had married another lord and became his lady wife you would not think such thoughts, but that is not what happened and you could not change it.

A slight creek from down below your window had made you focus back to the present. Staring was not ladylike, and you smiled at your moronic thoughts. You could not have the knight at your door, you knew it— however a small spark of childish hope brewed in your heart. Perhaps one day it would fade and fizzle, leave and be forgotten. Or maybe it would come true, to see your titles as Lady of Portoscuro relinquish and become a forgotten lady in the history books, happy with the unattainable man stationed outside of your chambers’ door, watching and guarding.

He was only something you could only hope for, but guilt nagged at your heart. He was honourable, chivalrous. He would not break vows, and nor would you.

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pbs-theundeadmaggot · 11 months

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first love // just pretend

🎶 just pretend by bad omens

(AU) Steve Harrington x fem!reader

[a/n] sorry this part is late, but it's here. The dinner scene will be released sometime next week so watch out for that :) also idk what's up with the links right now but you should be able to find all the previous parts at // pbs-firstlove

[warnings?] toxic behaviour, arguing, oblivious idiots in love, angst.

first love masterlist here!

The warmth of your bed seemed so much more inviting than the cool early morning breeze that made its way through the open window of your hotel room. The thought of spending time with Rebecca had you reverting you back to your childhood days, where you’d pretend to be sick to get out of school. Unfortunately for you there was no getting out of the day ahead, Rebecca going out of her way to cancel the original plans of visiting the Notre Dame Cathedral and booking a spa day instead.

A part of you was mad that she hadn’t consulted with the rest of the group about the change of plans however, the broken hearted tired side needed a break and a spa day seemed like the ideal distraction, so with sleep still clouding your vision and reluctance running through your veins you eventually forced yourself out of bed, much to Robin’s dismay.

It was no secret she wasn’t too interested in typically girly things, much preferring shorts over skirts and sneakers over heels, which in part you agreed, but the idea of getting half naked with a random persons hands all over you, that was step too far for her. Again you somewhat agreed but if you were being forced to go you sure as hell would be taking her down with you.

Steve had pulled you aside yesterday evening after the zoo trip, mentioning that Rebecca was feeling left out and pleading with you to help her feel welcome, as if you hadn’t been trying to do that from the moment you first met her.

While you’d noticed the cold shoulder Robin and Eddie had given her, you had told them explicitly that you didn’t want to get in the way of Steve’s relationship, if he liked her than it was to be respected. After all he was a grown up and he could decide what and who he did, as long as he’s happy who were you to say otherwise? But there were only so many digs you could take before you realised that regardless of Steve’s thoughts, you didn’t have to like her, required you could at least tolerate her.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

The heat of the sauna clung to your body like a second skin, the stark contrast between the humidity in the air and the cold tiles of the floor had you halfway to heaven, even Robin could agree. The nostalgic feeling of being stuck in a never-ending lecture that just so happened to be the perfect temperature for a nap. In this case the lecture being Rebecca’s non-stop talking about her perfect life, making it known to you that being left out was not the problem nor was lack of bonding, rather using it as an excuse to flaunt her wealth and status, attempting to prove that she was and would always be better than you.

It was times like this you were humbled greatly knowing that while you were cut from the same cloth she was (metaphorically) you saw the privilege and advantage your family’s wealth could bring, but chose to deny it, not wanting to be swayed by the destruction and disease it brought. Instead deciding to pave your own way and work just as hard as anyone else to earn your living, even if it meant struggling would be inevitable.

No amount of wealth could dictate your happiness.

Steve used to believe that too.

“I found a ring in his pocket, can you believe it? He’s definitely going to propose, I just know it I mean look at me, he’d be lucky to marry me.” The previous ramblings had gone over your head, it was almost unfortunate this one didn’t.

The smirk plastered across her face was enough to fill you with dread, the images that you’d once pictured yourself in, now plagued with her and him. They’d only been dating a few months surely he wouldn’t jump in so quickly? The only thought floating around your brain now being that he really did love her.

Not you.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

The smell of lavender and eucalyptus strangled your senses in a sort of comforting way, eyes almost watering at the thick scent that wafted through the air upon your arrival. Laying down on the padded beds, soft cotton hugging your skin as the masseuse got to work. Practically left in a catatonic state as the hour passed far too quickly for your liking and drew to a close, you knew you had to get back to reality sooner rather than later.

You had some time before you needed to meet the rest of the group for dinner, deciding to go for a walk and take in the scenery over staring at the four white walls of the hotel room that you’d got to know almost too well. It hadn’t crossed your mind to let the others know where you were, assuming that everyone else would be going about their day as they pleased, so stuffing your phone away in the back pocket of your shorts and letting your legs take you wherever, oblivious to the panic that ran rampant in Steve’s mind.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

It had been hours since anyone had seen you, no messages or voicemails, the silence dragging on and on while Steve paced up and down the perimeter of his hotel room. He should’ve noticed it sooner, he should’ve known something like this would happen.

He knew you were mad at him and he knows he hurt you. The guilt lurking around in the back of his mind unable let him forget how shitty he’d been. All of this was his fault and instead of trying to fix the problem, he’d dug the hole deeper and deeper.

Rebecca was fuming, watching her boyfriend worry about another women when she was right in front of him but no amount of tantrums to take his mind of you. She’d insisted that you were doing this on purpose, lying through her teeth about the awful things you’d said to her, crocodile tears pouring down her cheeks in an attempt to shift his focus elsewhere.

This of course led to an argument with both of them spitting venomous words at each other, fighting fire with fire in an effort to not get burned. Unknown to them while they were busy arguing you’d long returned to your room and got ready, with Eddie and Robin in hand as you approached their door to travel to the restaurant together.

All of you unaware how quickly the evening would take a turn for the worse (or the better) depends on who's asking.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

[a/n] reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and encouraged!

Other works available here!

Taglist: @freezaz123

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acompleteandtotalnerd · 2 years

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Happy CooroNana day!

It's late but here's a fanfic from the randomly generated cooronana prompts.

Nana and Cooro go camping, Cooro reads the map upside down and the two become terribly lost.

Nana felt beside herself as she packed a backpack of clothes and food. She honestly thought she would never have to sleep without a bed again, and certainly wasn’t looking forward to the spending the night in the forest. She and the boys had finally found a home within a small village, they had to work hard for the humble lives they’d procured but she appreciated it all the same. Which is why when Cooro and those ridiculously cute puppy eyes asked her to go camping with him she’d said yes.Husky, ever the stubborn one, was unwavered by Cooro’s requests to join. As for Senri, while they had all grown over the past years he was still essential for having the physical strength to do manual labor, effectively being the main breadwinner of the house- he simply couldn’t take off with Cooro just for fun if they wanted to continue the living arrangement.“C’mon Nana!” Cooro ecstatically called, he’d been ready to head off for awhile by this point. “Coming, coming…” Nana half grumbled. She still couldn’t sympathize with his exuberance over what she was somewhat dreading, but all the same she followed out the front door to join him. If there were any traces of her hesitance over the excursion it instantly vanished as she was met with Cooro’s remarkable smile. She felt her cheeks redden again, the tightening in her chest as she tried to look normal. This had become something of a routine- she couldn’t say for sure when it started, (possibly shortly after his growth spurt made him taller than her) but undeniably she had a terrible crush on him.

Cooro, on the other hand, hadn’t started acting any different from when they were kids. Her attempts to be seen as a grown and attractive young lady had thus far failed spectacularly. So far she had tried wearing makeup (Nana had made some herself from home remedies), Cooro had asked her if she was sick. She’d tried giving him chocolate as a special romantic gesture- he shared the chocolates with Husky and Senri, saying that Nana had made them all some chocolate. Husky had even given her a look of pity when he clearly put together the misunderstanding.But she wasn’t the kind of girl to give up. She’d made a new plan. When Cooro asked her to join him on this camping trip he didn’t have any specific destination in mind, so she picked their destination. To the East not too far there was a small pond that had formed in the shape of a heart. She’d heard stories in the village about it, girls told romantic stories of proposals at sunset and dashing forbidden love affairs. While she didn’t plan on any marriage proposals or running away together, it would make for a scenic spot for a confession- maybe they would even kiss.

Feeling the heat rising in her face she shoved the map, into Cooro’s hands. “We should get going so we get there before dark.” She squeaked, instantly mortified by the consequence of her tight chest. “Okay.” He agreed chipperly, taking the lead. He held the map in one hand, excitedly pointing and urging she look at every pretty rock or cool thing he spotted. There was something so nostalgic about their quest that despite herself she found herself with some of the same childish excitement he had.However, neither one in their energy were taking care to make sure they stay on the same trail they’d started on; and Cooro only checked the map occasionally. And the golden rays that had been a warm blanket on their nostalgic trek dwindled, making Cooro haphazard map reading all the more questionable as he began to squint to make out the lines. “Can I see that?” Nana asked, feeling her heartbeat beginning to quicken. She didn’t like this. They should have arrived there by now. When Cooro nonchalantly handed her the map her she felt her hole body tighten, her hand slightly crumpling the map as they clenched the paper. This was definitely the same way he’d been looking at it, and it was upside down.

Cooro slightly tilted his head as he stared at Nana, “Something wrong?” he asked, clearly ignorant of his mistake. Nana sprouted her wings wordlessly, ordinarily she would have had plenty to say about this situation, but the sun was setting and there wasn’t anytime to waste. “We’re lost you idiot!” She shouted as she took off in flight. She didn’t even see his reaction before she was in the air, the world blurred by her tears. The trees, there branches so dense, blocked what little sun was left. Her sleeve tore as a branch caught it, as if grasping to pull her back down. Her breath was shaky and she felt a claustrophobic fear she hadn’t confronted in a long time.“Nana!” She heard Cooro call after her in the distance. Her feelings in the moment were far to raw for her to be quelled by her puppy love. As she emerged above the trees she gasped, it was like she could finally breath again. The world was still blurry, she was trying to regain her composure as fast as she could. She had yelled at Cooro. She had to apologize, so she wouldn’t be like him- her mind flashing memories of her father she had long since tried to bury. “Nana!” Cooro called again, this time as he practically tackled her in a hug.

With that hug any hope of Nana gracefully composing herself was gone, she hugged him in return and wailed into his broad shoulders. She said sorry over and over, her apologies being hardly discernable as her sobs wracked through her voice. He rubbed his hand on her back as he continued to listen to her. As her tears started to slow down her mind was finally able to return to this moment. But as crying so hard makes a person exhausted, rather than feeling embarrassment or shyness she just thought how remarkably kind Cooro was.“I’m sorry.” Cooro said in a soft and sad voice. Nana finally raised her head off his shoulder to meet his eyes. “You didn’t mea-” She started to pushback against his apology, it was an accident afterall- and wasn’t like they’d be stuck wandering the forest. But Cooro cut her off, “I shouldn’t have pushed for this… I just… I wanted to spend time with you like we used to.” There was a bittersweetness to his expression. “Cooro…” Nana softly responded.

“I always want to spend time with you.” She said, her exhaustion having beaten any anxiety she would ordinarily be far to bashful to say something so close to a confession. “Me too.” Cooro’s response that should have felt like a victory felt hollow. He doesn’t mean that. He doesn’t mean it like she means it. He just sees her as a friend. She did her best to muster a smile when, perhaps experiencing a similar courage though tiredness as she, Cooro pulled her into kiss. First she felt the surprise, then let herself melt into the moment. There, in the moonlight, with lover’s pond just ahead of them, they were more than friends.

#plus anima #Cooronana #Sorry it's late #I even had it done in time just spent most of yesterday sleeping while under the weather #I hope y'all like it #It's kinda irractic in writing but I wanted to convey Nana's thoughts and feelings

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overt-whalewatching · 1 year

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yknow there are song songs that just sound like memories? take Fine Line for example. it sounds different to everyone, but to me it sounds like distant happiness relived in memory, the joy of someone you once were brought back to you via old polaroids and videos taken on terrible old cameras during fits of childhood summer break boredom. so nostalgic, like a photo you can walk through. you move through a stationary world instead of the world moving through you. it's running in your backyard in the slowly cooling heat of summer evenings, air thick with gnats, sprinklers running. it's making snow angels in shorts and tank tops, somehow oblivious to the cold that you only feel when you come inside and the temperature contrast makes your fingertips burn. it's dreading the school day but finding joy in small things. little doodles on math homework, poorly constructed games of hangman in the backs of notebooks, drawing on the social studies whiteboard until your teacher yells at your friend group. it's time frozen in a bottle and handed to you for safe keeping, and right then, if only for a moment, you walk through your memories again. see all the things about being small that you forgot, and love them again as if you never left those endless summer evenings. as if you stayed stationary forever, simply loving the moment you've been handed. idk man just something about those songs.

#it is late i am tired and i am sad #this is a product of my inability to sleep and i need to put my crises somewhere #enjoy the madness #harry styles has me in my feels man

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hheavenlysinful · 3 years

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come here kitten~

✘a.s x reader

request:

heyy! i really love your writing and i wanted to send in a request! i was thinking maybe a cute scenario where the reader’s quirk is shapeshifting. and one day while she’s in a cat form aizawa takes her home, just thinking she’s a regular cat. but after a while she has no choice but to turn back into a human! i thought that would be cute to write about. :) thank you!

wc: 1.5k

✘ slight angst, fluff, usage of “daddy”, slightly suggestive (no smut)

✘ an: OMG THIS WAS SO CUTE :((( LIKE :(((((( THANK YOU SM FOR THIS REQ IT WAS FUN TO WRITE! I HOPE YOU ENJOY :) asks are open ^-^

masterlist

YOUR mind was fuzzy, your lithe body trembling with extreme fatigue. it had been a long time since you held your quirk up this long. the last time had ended poorly, with you being bedridden for almost a week. you hoped this time would be different. but as you awkwardly rested on your paws, too tired to hold your head up, you knew that was a false hope. but you had to keep your quirk going if only to keep the tiny ounce of dignity you had left.

you diverted your gaze from the muscular man who leaned on the wall beside you, looking out into the mellow clouds that covered the sky. it had been raining for quite a while now, refusing to stop even for a second. your groan came out as a choked purr as you rolled around on the soft mattress. for a man who never slept, the bed was perfect and so soft. your gaze flitted to aizawa, draped in a loose t-shirt and even more loose sweatpants. you didn't know a cat could blush.

your quirk wasn't unique, or at least not mind-blowing compared to quirks like all rights or aizawa. it was a simple shape-shifting quirk that allowed you to morph into any living creature you had touched. it was great for snooping around unseen and undetected and was even usable in fights, but the consequence for overusing your quirk was just too severe for you to handle. the long, dreaded nights, filled with fevers and chills made you want to jump off a roof. but you loved your life and the people that came in it. especially a certain sleep-deprived teacher who didn't even spare you a glance.

you had known aizawa since you were in high school, had continued to be by his side far after those youthful days. and though aizawa had changed dramatically you still couldn't help but feel that magnetic pull that just kept you in. but it began to dull soon after. it was a curse, you thought, how even after the months of silence, one glance at him had you running right back. you felt hopeless, yearning for a person who you never have. but you were happy that he was starting to come back in your life, after the long bout of no communication.

it had been a random occurrence, the rare time that aizawa ever left the house. today had been crap, to say the least, papers missing, villains being for bold than before. today...today just wasn't your day and it took all your effort to not cry out in annoyance and frustration. but you had waited patiently, like the good hero you were, biting your lip as tears began to form on your waterline. maybe it was the sullen weather or the lack of warmth in your heart, but you headed to a place that often brought you comfort: the playground.

it was old and rusty, almost forgotten, but you still loved it. and although you were far too big to fit in the small little tunnels, you just couldn't help but feel nostalgic when you glanced at them. long-buried memories of you and aizawa flashed in your head, small raindrops starting to drop from the clouds. you paused. the gods it seemed had just granted you a chance to cry.

you focused all your energy in your head, willing yourself to perform one more task before you weep. and in a sudden flash, you were on the ground, looking up at the gigantic playground. your little paws trembled as you clawed your way up into a tunnel, instinctively curling into a ball.

being a cat was much easier than being a human, especially when the small pitter-patter of raindrops masked the quiet whines of sadness that came from your body. you stayed there for a while, letting of quiet mewls as you cursed the universe for its awful tricks. loving someone who would never love you is hard, especially when you can't let go because they were never yours to have. it was truly awful, something you wouldn't wish on your enemy.

small footsteps at you quiet, your body jolting up into a defensive stance, although you didn't know what a kitten-like you could do, other than run away. but when you peered out of the tunnel you swore at the sky once more. for the universe had once again pulled your leg.

you had spotted him first, the long, black hair and sleep-deprived eyes were too distinct. you bit the urge to sprint away, especially as you watched him look around, such sadness lingering in his eyes.

"hmm?"

you jolted at the slight sound, hissing as aizawa's looming shadow covering your entire body.

"what's this?"

his hair was pulled into a messy bun, something you had never seen him where. and holy hell he was fine.

it felt odd having such thoughts as a cat, but you couldn't help it. his mere presence was enough to make you melt.

you purred as you hesitantly walked to him, nudging his arm with your nose.

"you must be hungry," he thoughtfully said as he reached forward picking you up. you squirmed at the sudden change in height, clawing his scarf to stay still. he laughed silently at your squirming figure.

"you can stay with me for the night," he hummed, another sear of heat flowed through your body as you awkwardly sat in his cradled arms. but you purred, resting your chin on his bicep. surely this wasn't a bad thing.

"should i text her," your head snapped up, suddenly jerked back into present time. you purred in confusion. aizawa, to his credit, had involved you in one-sided conversations, often ones where you wanted to answer so bad.

"there's this woman..." he paused as a soft smile painted his lips, "she's amazing and kind, and beautiful."

a surge of jealousy shot through your veins, a hiss echoing into the room.

"but, i pushed her away," he laughed helplessly, running a hand through his hair, "pathetic right?"

"no, you're not pathetic, i understand," is what you wanted to say, but you settled for a small meow.

"y/n,"

you tensed as your name left his lips,

"i wonder how she is, i bet she's happy. she's always been a happy one."

"no, she's not happy, she misses you too. and she wants to be with you and hug you and everything. and she wants you to know she's stupid too, for pushing you away and not trying to talk to you. she...she loves you."

you hated that you were a cat. able to hear every word, but not say anything back.

you knew...you knew somewhere in your heart that there was only one choice. and only the universe would know if it was the right one.

you took a deep breath in, loosening your body and releasing the energy you had kept in from your transformation. it felt comforting, the feeling of human skin of human flesh.

"NO, Y/N ISN'T HAPPY. SHE MISSES YOU AND SHE WANTS TO BE WITH YOU AND SHE WANTS TO DO EVERYTHING WITH YOU. AND NO YOU'RE NOT PATHETIC, Y/N IS THE PATHETIC ONE. SHE LOVED YOU SOO MUCH BUT SHE DIDN'T EVEN TRY TO TALK TO YOU OR ANYTHING. Y/N, SHE..."

"...y/n?"

you watched aizawa's face morph from sadness, to shock, to worry, to surprise.

and if you weren't in his bed, wearing your form-fitting hero costume, you would have laughed your butt off.

"hi?" you waved, turning your body away from aizawa's sight. a blush bloomed on his cheeks, dulling away the previous signs of shock.

"..."

you would have walked to him, but fatigue was taking over your body. you could almost feel the fever that was about to consume your body.

"what are you...what are you doing here?" he motioned wildly at the bed and his room.

"...you brought me here," you snapped back half-heartedly.

"you were the cat." it was more of a statement than a question.

"you," he pointed to you, "were the cat who i talked to you about...you."

you nodded, unable to form coherent words.

"...did you mean what you said?" he quietly asked, walking towards you oh so slowly.

"which part?" you muttered, averting your gaze from intense eyes.

"do...do you..." he sighed, "do you love me?"

you nodded.

he leaned forward, as he did when he picked you up at the tunnel. he grabbed your shoulders, groaning in relief as he leaned his forehead on your shoulder. you stuttered as you gripped his shirt, heart beating erratically.

"a-aizawa?"

"shouta." his voice was grim as he spoke, "call me shouta."

"w-what?"

"call me shouta, or daddy, or whatever you're into," he muttered into the crook of your neck, the warm air made you shiver.

"s-shouta what," you asked incredulously, gripping his shoulders harder.

"oh god, y/n just stop," he groaned, "stop acting so innocent, kitten"

the sinister way he murmured the pet name was enough for you to understand the true meaning behind his words.

what had you gotten yourself into?

#bnha x reader #bnha smut #aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #aizawa smut #aizawa x reader angst #aizawa x female reader #bnha x you #bnha headcanons #mha x reader #mha #bnha #aizawa angst #bnha x reader smut #aizawa shouta x reader #shouta x reader #shouta x you #shouta smut #bnha drabbles

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iambilliejeanok · 3 years

Text

🤎A Break With My Lover.🤎

Part One

Pairing: Might Guy x Tenji( made up character)

Summary: Tenj is back from her two month mission and is so excited to spend time with her new boyfriend Guy, who pampers and adores her. Just a cute little short story for all my Guy sensei hoes to enjoy.😊

Warnings: 18+, language, fluff, SFW and NSFW, smut.

Tenji now stood at the entrance of the Hokage mansion, grateful to have been granted a full week's rest after her team worked tirelessly for a full two months. Another breeze blew a curl that dangled from her loose bun into her face, not caring in the slightest to put it back in its place. Her main goal was to reach her beloved apartment and take a much needed cool shower to wash away the grim, sweat and blood that clung to her aching body. With her eyes closed she inhaled a deep long breath, forcing herself to take the first step. Her body felt so heavy and her mind fuzzy, a sudden wave of fatigue ripping a whine from deep in her throat. “Oi, Tenji,” a sharp flick on the side of her neck immediately snapped her out of her sluggish mood. “Tch! Genma what the fuck,” a sly smirk appearing on his smug face as he took pleasure in her frustration, relishing the irritated look he managed to put on her face. “Well hello to you too Tenji, it's been too long, glad that you're back and in one piece it seems,” he spoke as he gave her a quick once over, ensuring that she was really in one piece and he hopefully hadn’t spoken too soon. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes as he inspected her obviously fatigued face, a hint of sympathy pulled at his heart realising she would probably have to walk all the way home on her own despite how tired she was. Tenji noticed the slight worry in his light brown eyes and instantly thought of a plan. Maybe she could convince him to carry her home after seeing the state she was in. “I’m okay I guess, I’m so tired, just wish i had help getting home Genma,” she whimpered as she stepped closer, leaning her chubby cheek into his broad, muscular chest, she looked up at him, hopeful that her long time buddy would show even the tiniest bit kindness he claimed to have, pulling her best puppy face while looking into his light brown eyes, her darker eyes needy as her full lips curved into a pout that he almost gave into until he realised what she was up to. Now, it’s not that he didn’t want to help(maybe a little) but it was also that he had already been summoned by the Hokage and couldn’t afford to be later than he already was and also because he knew Tenji could be such a spoiled brat sometimes and he was not in the mood to baby her today. He averted his gaze and placed two long, slender fingers on her forehead before gently nudging her off of him. “Geez Tenji” , his words almost sounding empathetic until he opened his mouth again, “Good luck finding someone who will help you with that”. Tenji’s mouth hung open in utter defeat as Genma walked right past her, not missing how he unashamedly took in the gorgeous sight of her full, round ass, her uniform gracefully complimenting it with the way her pants clung desperately to the curve of her hips and hugged her ass in a way that he would always appreciate. “Tch”, Tenji scoffed as she turned fully to face him, his soft light, brown eyes slowly climbing up her body taking in her front, failing to hide the disappointment in them, missing the blessed sight she turned away from him, reluctantly looking back up into her darker orbs to wink at her, disappearing into the Hokage mansion. She blamed herself for expecting anything from that perverted bastard, as she hesitantly began her dreadful walk down the busy streets of Konoha.

Tenji kept her eyes glued to the ground, drowning out the sounds of the happy village folk all around her, as she continued on replaying how good it would feel to walk into her apartment and pamper herself to a nice shower and some well needed rest. A low growl from her tummy dirsturbed her train of thought, reminding her of her deep hunger for some delicious, warm food. The divine, savory smell of Ichiraku’s ramen, not helping her best attempts at ignoring it and heading home, her fatigue too overwhelming for her to entertain her hunger as she stood in front of the little ramen restaurant. “Tenji sensei!,” a loud voice erupting out of nowhere pulled her attention directly in front of her. A young and enthusiastic Lee stood in her path, the biggest grin spreading on his face, clearly excited to see her. A mini Might Guy, always bringing a deep nostalgic feeling in her heart, he was far too adorable for her to not smile at him, despite the exhaustion that tugged at her eyelids, with his little green jumpsuit, “Lee-san, so good-,” she was suddenly cut off as two large hands tugged at her waist, lifting her up and tossing her high into the air, she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the one sensation she absolutely despised, punching her deep in her gut as the fall back downwards came shortly after. Landing right into none other than her boyfriend, Might Guy’s strong arms. “Precious!”, she shuddered as he spoke way louder than she would have liked; “After so long you have finally returned from your mission! Wow I’ve missed you'', Guy was basically roaring right in her face at this point, which she normally wouldn’t mind, but the fatigue she couldn’t shake off any longer made her highly irritable. “Guy!, put me down right now, baka!”, she blurted, his big, pretty grin never leaving his face as he gently complied. “My precious flower, how was your mission” he spoke in a much calmer voice, now sensing her irritated mood as he shamelessly inspected her entire body, not bothered by the irritation in her tone, making sure his eyes and hands didn't miss a single spot, hoping she wasn't injured as she replied, “It was a success. I just reported to Lady Hokage and I get a full week of rest as a reward so i'm going home now” , the tone of her voice growing more and more annoyed as she noticed Kakashi and his team all standing there, watching Guy fiddle with her body, the embarrassing display of care leaving a light blush across her plump cheeks. Everyone knew they were dating, despite the fact that their relationship was still very new, it didn't take a scientist to figure out they had been in love with one another even as friends. “Guy!” she whined, pushing him off of her hoping he was now pleased with his inspection. “As expected of my lotus! Always glowing in the light of her youth!”, he continued with his over enthusiastic praise. Tenji was now very used to his overly positive attitude that he was apparently born with, considering he was just as loud now, as he was when they were still children. Kakashi looked at her with a knowing look of second hand embarrassment as he nodded towards her “Yo, we‘re going inside Ichiraku’s now, join us whenever you’re ready Tenji-chan” he spoke in the warm, familiar manner, he always spoke in when talking to her. “Kakashi-san, I’m too tired. Next time?”, she replied, her eyelids noticeably droopy as he nodded in understanding, walking into the restaurant.

Guy stood in front of his new lover, feeling like his heart would explode with the surge of joy he felt to be near her after not getting to hang out much, especially in the past two months. Tenji stood before him and let out a deep sigh, knowing that she wouldn't have to worry about the dreadful walk home because her best friend and now lover would go to the ends to make her happy, as she would for him. Tenji looked up at him, her deep brown eyes never leaving his onyx ones as she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his large build, gripping on the back of his green jumpsuit, sighing heavily into his chest. Her heart fluttered, remembering that she could now hold him like this. He was hers now. Guy’s flak jacket draped her arms as he engulfed her in a warm embrace, strong arms wrapping firmly around her, pulling her impossibly closer. Her eyelids fluttered shut, comfort washing over her as he began to rub his large hand soothingly up and down her back making her eyelids feel like a ton of bricks as she finally gave in to keeping them closed. She relished in the heavy slumber that quickly crept up on her feeling like she was sinking deeper and deeper into her lovers addicting hold, but it was cut short as she was abruptly interrupted by the rumbling of Guy’s hard chest, a deep chuckle leaving his lips as he felt the weight of her body dip further into his. “Someones ready for a nap I see?” he spoke placing a soft kiss on her forehead, “Mmhmm”, was all Tenji had the strength to say, too tired to move her mouth into actual words, revelling in the pleasant warmth Guy’s soft caresses provided—despite the afternoon heat—bringing his fingers to brush the coily strand that escaped the loosely tied bun at the nape of her neck and tucked it back into place. Attempting to tuck the one strand in, the whole bun began to fall apart and Guy being the sweet bean he was,decided to fix the whole thing for her. Speaking to her, he continued to work on it, gently detangling her hair from the scrunchie that failed to keep her thick, dark brown coils neatly bundled up. “How about I take you home and help you wind down?” , he continued, finally able to pry the scrunchie from the last little coil that wouldn't let it go, careful not to hurt her. “Miss you”, she sounded muffled, snuggling further into his chest, a pang of happiness filling her chest at the action, taking in her favourite faint scent of lemon and a much stronger earthy smell. Guy began to softly brush her hair back with his palms, making sure to pull all escaping strands into the ponytail he was forming in his fist at the nape of her neck, now securing it all with the scrunchie. “Well let's get going precious”, he sighed out, gently prying himself free from her tight grip around him, quickly silencing her whine, turning around and gently tugging at her arm, easily pulling all her weight onto his back. A move that she was all too familiar with, Guy always treating her like the ‘precious flower’ he always described her as ever since they were younger. Her heart leaped along with him as he jumped up onto the nearest rooftop, maintaining a firm yet gentle grip on her thighs, a faint sigh leaving her lips and excitement bubbling up from the pit of her tummy, pleasantly spreading around the rest of her body as thoughts of the cuddles and attention she was going to receive clouded her mind. Why didn’t they get together any sooner? Not only did she have a whole entire week off, but she also scored time with her lover. It couldn't get any better than that.

#might guy #gai smut #gai x reader #might guy imagines #black women #naruto imagines

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warmau · 3 years

Text

there’s a sharp knock on the glass of your window

you stare up at the ceiling and don’t move an inch from the comfort of your bed until the knock comes again. and again.

with a groan you roll off your sheets and compose yourself before walking over and pushing your curtains aside

on the other side of the window is kun

standing god knows how on the side of the second story of your house and you cross your arms

he motions for you to open the window and you shake your head

he rolls his eyes and somehow the little gesture ticks you off to no end

who does he think he is? always being so rude, even when he needs me to do something for him!

he motions again and you try not to look at the strong line of his arms - he’s wearing a sleeveless tank and jeans which really? how athletic is he climbing in those thing-

you sneer but you give in, undoing the latch and pushing open the window

stepping back, kun climbs through without a hitch and once he’s standing on the carpet of your bedroom you look up and start

“i was about to go to sleep what are you doing her-”

“where’s your cousin?”

he doesn’t even look at you.

in fact, he looks over your shoulder at your door that’s closed

“he said to meet him before we both sneak out, but that dumbass could have just met me at the party himself.”

you uncross your arms and instead curl your fingers into fists at your side

“so why didn’t you sneak through the guestroom window asshole -”

“don’t know which window is the guest room. i just knew this one was yours because of the childish curtains.”

he gets under your nerves. he really does. he has since you meet him as the naïve new kid at your towns middle school

and he - he was the ever so perfect at everything upperclassman.

that hadn’t changed much now - as you got older you came to understand that kun could do no wrong in the eyes of everyone BUT you

your parents thought he was the shining example of a young man, your friends all wanted to date him, and now even your cousin who was staying with you for the summer was impressed with him.

they’d met at the party you had thrown to welcome your cousin and how kun even got there - you don’t know - but he’d shown up with sicheng and ten

and then was talking to your cousin and everyone and making you irritated the entire night ....... and yet ............ here he was now

sneaking out with YOUR cousin to go to another party. who’s party? you didn’t know - your own damn cousin had invited KUN and not YOU

you don’t want to bite your tongue anymore - you want to start mouthing off on him just like he thinks he has the right to do with you

but if you raise your voice, you’ll wake your parents and you have the sinking feeling that if they walked in on this scene

they might not be as angry about it as other parents would be......you cringe, thinking about how your mother had once inquired you if kun and you were considering being more than friends.

you look up at him now. more than friends? he’s going to be my enemy till i die.

you think your worry comes to life when your door opens and you turn so fast in fear of seeing your parents actually standing there, but it is just your cousin

who grins at kun and pushes past you like you’re a ghost in your own room

“ready to go dude?” he asks and kun suddenly takes this moment of all to look at you

he makes a noise of agreement, but he keeps his line of vision on you. it makes something crawl up your skin. creep, don’t look at me like that!

it only lasts a split second, before both boys are using your window to sneak out into the sticky summer night and you’re rushing over to shut it.

before you do - you watch them disappear out of the backyard - two figures in the moon.

you huff, reaching for your curtains and you don’t notice kun look back.

this keeps happening.

sometimes kun does come sneaking back through your window (he says he can’t get the guest room one where your cousin is - there’s nothing for him to climb up on that side of the house) but rather than just that

kun just keeps appearing around you

he’s at the same parties, he’s at the same park, he’s at the same beach. the town has never felt smaller and your cousin is the reason for it all. he drags kun everywhere - like they’re the bestest of friends.

they’ve known each other for like two or something weeks.....can’t they find other people to hangout with! maybe i should just stay in my room from now on-

you turn off the shower and try to erase the thought from your head. you wrap a towel around yourself and scurry down the hall back to your room where you shut the door and sigh.

he annoys me so much that my brain can’t help thinking about him when it should just be trying to throw him out of my he-

your shoulders tense when you hear a familiar sound at the window.

no fucking way

the curtains are drawn back now and through the glass you see the familiar outline of kun’s figure

you stomp over - you’ve been boiling over his constant presence and you think fine, he wants to come into your room, you wont let him until he hears what you really think

so you yank the window up, but not enough for him to climb through

“hey i can-”

“kun, i know everyone thinks your gods gift to this earth but what would they think of you trying to sneak into my room through the goddamn window at midnight? huh? can’t spend your summer doing something better than bothering me? that’s what the prince of this little town does - peep through wind-”

in the heat of the moment you throw your hands up to the glass of the window and the towel ....... drops

you probably wouldn’t have even noticed - how wound up you’ve gotten - but kun

kun nearly falls straight off the side of your house and you can see the panic reflected in his eyes flash so you yank the window up and instead of letting him fall backwards

you pull him in and ontop of you

the two of you topple over onto your carpet - the thudding sound resounds and kun catches himself on his arms so his weight doesn’t crush you

you stare up - that flash of panic is still in kun’s eyes and for a second you try to figure out why when you feel the summer air gust through and all over your exposed skin

you scream, because what else can you do, and kun pushes himself off you

you reach for the towel pooled beside you and wrap yourself back up - getting to your feet with wobbly horror and staring at kun who is sitting back with that expression stil on his face

it doesn’t last long though because you hear someone pull at your doorknob - your mothers voice coming from the otherside

kun falls back and rolls himself under your bedframe - just in time for the door to open and your mother to rush in with worry laced in her voice

“what happened?”

qian kun just saw me naked!

“i- i though-i thought i saw something in the window im fine, really!”

your mother pries but you push her back toward the door gently, assuring her that it was probably an owl or a racoon in a tree. really.

she touches your shoulder and says to call her if you need anything. you close the door again and listen to her footsteps down the stairs.

you breath in and turn around - kun has gotten out from under the bed and is now standing at the corner of your bed looking more lost than you’ve ever seen him in your life

no snarky remarks, no stupid smug look on his face

you feel angry. you still feel all pissed off from before, but now there’s something else coursing through you.

shame.

“get out”

you grit your teeth.

“i - i would never-”

“get out kun, seriously.”

he stumbles, no confidence and no superiority, just an almost wounded like stride as he reaches for the window again.

he looks over his shoulder and you brace yourself - with him, he could look sad all he wants but you know deep down he could say something so cruel right about now-

“im sorry.”

you clutch the towel

sorry for what? for being better than me at everything? for having to see me at my most vulnerable when all i ever see you at is your best?

you think - or at least you assume you think this - you don’t realize you’ve said it out loud

kun stops and swallows, “im not the best at anything. im a horrible liar you know.”

“what?”

the towel should be soft, but it feels heavy, like a lifeline you’re gripping but that just gets harder and harder to keep close

kun pushes his lower body through the window and then looks at you one final time

“im a horrible liar. the reasons i even- the reason im always around you isn’t because of your cousin. it’s because i want to be near-”

you don’t hear the last word because he disappears right after that, you stand in the corner of your room, he wants to be near what?

you look at the shut door, the mirror hanging on the back of it, and your reflection

did he say he wants to be near me?

you don’t really go anywhere for a couple of days after that.

your cousin is always out, but you don’t even want to go see your friends. you just know that that will risk seeing-

something knocks against your window and you look over, a new feeling swelling in your chest that isn’t like that dread you’ve felt before

but instead of kun’s figure - you just see the raindrops that are accumulating on the glass

a heavy summer storm brews up outside and you think it’s ironic. your brain feels like it is going through a tornado of its own.

you walk toward it and think it would be nice to feel the rain though - to touch something outside of room and when you open it you do see something

you see someone in the backyard

“kun?”

you’re rushing out on the grass - barefoot and wrapping your arms around yourself in the wind of the rain

“kun why are you here - my cou-”

“im here to see you.”

you don’t understand - and then a strong chill that doesn’t come from the storm runs up your spine - he’s here to make fun of me isn’t he? mock me?

“listen, i don’t want to hear it from you of all people - you saw me naked for a second and you have no right-”

“its you. im always here to see you. do you understand?”

he’s talking over me - like usual - but why is his tone-

“excuse me? understand wh-”

the rain gets heavier and you cannot believe you’re about to do this but you’re getting soaked and so is kun and so you point to your window

“meet me up there.”

you don’t know why you invite him. you expect the worst and you expect to get hurt and made fun of it. but you do it anyway.

part of you is saying it’s because you want to pick a fight - but another part, quieter and that’s been dormant for a while says no, it’s because you might think you hate kun but you aren’t going to let him stand out in the rain any longer.

you wish you could tell this part to shut up and go away, but you give into it every time. especially, it seems, when it comes to him of all people.

kun looks displaced again in your room - he usually sneaks through and acts like he owns the place - but this time he’s back to this awkward atmosphere

you feel sick thinking about how you kind of wish you had the other side of him back

“so why are you here kun, really. it’s embarrassing enough for me that you saw me-”

“im sick of lying.”

you blink, looking at him more seriously

“lying?”

“your cousin is fun and all, but cmon - you said it yourself. everyone expects the best of me, why would i spend my summer partying around the town. do you think i like it?”

speechless you don’t say anything in response and kun continues

“it’s just, finally i had an excuse good enough to be around you. to sneak up through your window, to hangout with the people you are friends with, to see you. otherwise - i never get a chance to-”

he looks different tonight, maybe because he’s drenched with rain, but he looks more like the kun you’ve known for years

put together, serious, he even has his glasses on tonight which shocks you more than anything because ever since the summer started - ever since he’s been around your cousin - he seems to have ditched them

you think slowly the pieces are coming together in your head about what point kun is making

it creeps in and you think shock is going to overcome you when kun confesses - with none of that bravado he seems to have adapted -

“i just know you hate me and without a good reason you would never let me near you so i - i just did the one thing that meant i could be close to you, because i dont hate you, i really like-”

you take a couple of steps toward him, closing your fingers around his face and you hear kun’s breath hitch up

you pull him down and toward you and just as you’re about to brush your lips against his - you instead pull him into a tight hug

you bury your face in his chest. his hands stuck stiff at his sides

“im not going to kiss you until you promise me one thing kun”

you can feel his heartbeat and yours, both rushing - louder than the thunder outside

“wh-what?”

“if we do this - whatever this will be - you have to promise you’ll still hangout with my cousin. he really thinks you guys are best friends.”

after a bit of a pause you feel his chest rumble with laughter

which you take offense to as you pull out of his arms - “hey don’t laugh! im being seri-”

“this is why i want to be near you by the way.”

he looks at you and for the first time it isn’t cold or accompanied by a sneer, the warmth in the deep browns almost makes you coy

“the guy you’re enemies with tells you they like you and you go ‘whatever, just keep being nice to my cousin’.”

you cross your arms, “family before boyfriends.”

kun cocks an eyebrow, “boyfriend? you move fast.”

“qian kun you’ve seen me naked. you better be ready for commitment.”

he loops his hands around your waist and you yelp a little at the sound contact - hugging and all is one but now he is pushing you up and against him

“im ready for anything if it means i can see you naked again.”

after that - everything shifts

naturally it does, you do start dating the guy you swore you’d hate till you died but that’s not the only thing

you are also dating the most sought after guy in your town and while most of the other people your age go green with envy - your parents and cousin (surprisingly) are over the moon

your parents you get, but you thought your cousin would hate the idea - when infact he confesses that he’s happy you like kun now - you all three can hangout easier for the rest of his summer here!

you’re all having dinner one time and your mother asks what made you finally realize you liked kun

you fluster, and kun quips that he just had to sneak through your window a couple of times to end up sneaking into your heart

your parents laugh - oh qian kun would never sneak through a window, only bad boys do that!

you almost choke on your peas

you won’t lie - you have insecurities and worries in the beginning, kun could still be pulling a fast one on you. or maybe you two just will never get over the competition between each other.

but that all proves null, you and him can be sarcastic and joke around all you want it doesn’t stop the feelings that grow tenfold through the summer

that feeling that when you are with him, there isn’t anyone else around

and kun really is the best at everything (you don’t say it out loud though)

but he does have the looks, the brains, the popularity and boy does he know what he’s doing with those hands of his

safe to say that he might have seen you naked first but you definitely saw him as well

you joke about it and your cousin is like ok. nevermind. this relationship between yall is GROSS jkjk

and then - like all things, summer ends, and your cousin is back off to his hometown

and when you’re saying goodbye - he goes up to you and leans in to whisper something so no one else hears

“that’s not going to happen!”

you exclaim when he leans out, but he just shrugs and says “just promise you will.”

so you do promise.

when you comeback to join kun he asks what the promise was about and you roll your eyes, muttering that it’s unrealistic so it doesn’t matter.

the only issue is - it is very realistic

because ten years later you are sending out invitations to you and kun’s wedding

he’s sitting at the dinner table beside you and watching you handwrite the notes, cutely testing out your cursive

he teases your mistakes and you swat at him, he leans down to kiss the side of your cheek when he looks at the invitation in your hand

it’s addressed to your cousin and kun reads it out loud:

“hey cousin, im keeping my promise from the past - the promise that id invite you to me and kun’s wedding.”

kun looks at you and you can’t believe the look makes you blush - even as a damn adult

kun keeps reading;

“and the other promise - that ill dance with you right after i dance with kun.”

kun chuckles, “you might not keep that one - because im not letting anyone else dance with after me. you’ll be mine that night.”

you scrunch up your nose, “dummy - ill be yours forever.”

#kun scenarios #kun au #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv au #nct au #nct scenarios #nostolgic au #kun #sfw #nudity/#wayv #nct

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4dtk · 4 years

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belonging (seq. to coming home)

anon: “can you do a part 2 w angst but fluff ending for coming home w johnny 👉🏼👈🏼🥺” hi anon!!!! yes! original fic is here; fluff in this constitutes more of talking it out rather than the uwu stuff but yes there is physical affection in this as well hahah. enjoy ❤️

loud screams shake the stadium as the members carry on with the concert. the song progresses from one to the next, taking the fans through ments and dance breaks.

soon, however, the fun comes to an end as the boys sing their encore song, not alone.

in the midst of running around the stage, the members frequented the stage in front of you, no doubt collecting johnny from his longing stare.

you could do nothing but offer smiles of comfort as well as your cheers as everyone sang the extended chorus together, bidding the crowd and fans goodbye with nostalgic messages.

as the venue’s lights came back on, your feet took you back to the same place, eager to at least congratulate them, even if you couldn’t exchange words with johnny.

the directions in your mind are clear, finding the dressing room instantly in a few minutes.

“(y/n)!” taeyong calls out, ushering you into the messy dressing room where they were still all celebrating, although some outerwear were removed to beat the heat.

“congrats on your last concert! how do you guys feel?”

“oh maaan, mostly sleep,” haechan groans, wiping off his make-up delicately as mark hangs off his hip.

“at least we get an off-day tomorrow,” jungwoo yawned, prompting a few others to follow him while your eyes naturally drift to johnny.

taeyong catches on, saving the day by gathering them around for a leader speech. despite their individual turmoils, they had come this far while getting lots of love from the fandom.

taeyong gives the group a warm smile, no doubt proud of all their efforts.

before you had a chance to escape, though, johnny lets out a quiet question.

“can i take you back to the dorms in the staff’s car later?”

you gulp, but nod anyways. it was better to face the problem sooner than later.

for most of the packing, you kept your distance as the stylists and make-up artists neatly sorted out their items and resources, a quiet night accompanying the secret passage the boys had to take.

you kept your strides long, a little scared and dreadful if you were to face johnny at the back of the line. there’s easy, light conversation among the group, but other than that, everyone falls silent when they board the bus with fatigue.

“see ya guys later,” johnny waves while taeyong sends you a thumbs-up, the bus taking off toward the dorms.

small talk falls flat on the way to the staff car, the manager having had to board the bus with the boys to give you some privacy.

you stop johnny before he can open the door to the driver’s side, something in your eyes telling him that he’d be the passenger today instead.

“you looked tired, and you probably are. let me drive tonight.” the other nods obediently, making his way to the other side of the car.

as the journey progresses, the distance between the two of you increases, staying to either side of the car. luckily, you’re saved by the radio, diminishing the awkward absence of conversation.

“so…”

you turn to him at a traffic light, seeing him look anxious and small. it was different from viewing him in a different light of confidence and assertiveness as he always had.

“how are you?”

you can’t help by giggling, stopping to answer his question curtly.

“i’m good, you?”

johnny nods, fidgeting with his fingers and the bag strap and in the process, irritating the pads of his thumbs.

“look, i don’t think i can ignore it any longer, (y/n). it’s been hell through the past few days that it was difficult to sleep.”

in a desperate moment, you panic.

panic leads you to step on the accelerator, avoiding the argument residing in your mind as well as johnny’s proposal to make up.

“(y/n)? (y/n)!”

in record time, you’ve managed to evade the cars on the road, reaching the front of the dorms in a few minutes on your end.

“okay, state your case,” you breathe out, calming your heartbeat by leaning on the steering wheel.

“i don’t want us to end.”

that causes you to sit up immediately, looking at him through your unkempt hair as he fully faces you.

“what?”

“i don’t want our relationship to go to the trash, (y/n).”

“well if you put it like that…” johnny rolls his eyes at that, placing a cautious hand on your thigh. unconsciously leaning into his touch, you squirm under his hand while you struggle to find the right words to say to him.

“i don’t want it to either, johnny,” you whisper, boring holes into the warm hand on your leg. it distracts you from everything else, the faded pop song playing on the radio cancelled out by your thoughts.

“then why are you so afraid?”

“what kind of question is that? i’m afraid of many things. will we fight again? will we split for real the next time we do? what will i do if i see you on TV and bawl dramatically?”

“the last one’s a joke,” johnny laughs.

“yes… yes it is,” you chuckle, laying a hand on his. his hand feels familiar after several days, even more when he twines his fingers with yours.

“i think, that’s something we can counter together, then. that’s what being in a relationship is, right?”

“okay smartypants, no need to flex on me with your experience,” you climb over the gearshift, knocking over a figurine situated on the dashboard while you were at it.

johnny plays the safe card, switching off the engine before accommodating for your body against his in the squeeze front seat.

“i think this was the most anti-climatic talk i’ve had after a fight in the relationship.”

that earns a hard smack from your free hand, before settling in a comfortable position on his chest.

the other could only grin at that, wrapping an arm around your middle so the two of you could enjoy the lost time at three in the morning.

“i missed you.”

“man, you’re the one falling asleep?” johnny laughs softly, cradling your frame in the night, happy to be with you again.

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soulwillower · 3 years

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long way home • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: please please please do a richie x reader about long way home by 5sos

warnings: nothing really, some mentions of canonic trauma but its really vague and underaged drinking

i was happy to write this bc it def got me out of my slump! lmk if yall want more fics

(also i loved 5sos so much back when the self titled album came out in like 2014. i was such a huge fan in middle school so this was so nostalgic to write!!)

[reader + losers are in their first year of college, set around early summer 1995.]

2.9k words

♡

"i don't really know what else to do. we have an hour and a half until we meet everyone." you say, breaking the momentary silence that had fallen upon the car after bev had climbed out the back. you hum, settling back against the passenger seat, head lulling to meet richie's gaze.

you can't help but smile. he's looking at you - just staring, fingers drumming against the steering wheel. he hums, too, turning his head, arm grabbing the shoulder of your seat as he backs up the car. "i have an idea. let's just go - what?" he asks, smiling with a chuckle as he catches you staring at him.

you blink as you flush, "i don't know. just really missed you." you say with a laugh, shaking your head as memories flood your mind. his face flickers for a second and he shakes his head, hair bouncing slightly in his flattery. "gee, i missed you too. it kinda sucks that we all went to opposite sides of the country."

you blow air from your lips gently in agreement as richie starts to drive somewhere east. "yeah. not seeing you for six months is, surprisingly, pretty shitty." you say, causing richie to snort. "you could barely handle it." he says, hand shifting gears as he stops at a stop sign.

you roll your eyes, but you don't tell him the truth: he's right. "let me tell you, when i got the bear last, i sure wanted to forget all about you." you say, kicking your feet up on his dash.

you and the other losers all split ways after graduation. of course, you all still kept in touch with phone calls, letters, and that of the sort. but you all had found a favorite way to all still feel close together: a toy canvas bear bev found that you all signed and drew on, shipping it around the country and letting it stay with each person for a week.

you'd all been printing photographs of the bear with yourselves at various places around all your campuses and sending them along with the bear as little post cards. the most recent from richie had the tattooed-bear propped next to him at a party, smirking with the bear in a vulgar position that had made you roll your eyes so hard you almost got a headache.

that was in april, and you spent the month and a half after that missing richie and your other dumbass friends so much it hurt.

richie smiles, "oh, yeah. that bear had some fun times with us up in the ol' N-Y-C." "-don't call it that." "-anyways, i did miss you guys, i wish you could meet my roommate, charlie, he's a hoot. i almost wanted to stay up there and have you come to me, y'know?" you nod, all too familiar with that feeling. "yeah, i wanted to do that too. there was some kind of-" you stop, frowning. do you really want to admit this to anyone? will they think it's weird? but then you remember it's richie. "-i don't know, some kind of dread i felt at having to come back here."

it's quiet for a second, and you think you said something wrong, but richie's knuckles tighten slightly and he nods, "me too. i have...bad feelings from this place. i didn't want to say anything, but- i don't know. i feel like something's..." but the thought seems to swim away from his voice, getting lost in the dredges of his brain.

and then as if on cue, the old car bumps its way over a speedbump and you cross past old neibolt street near the tracks.

a sick shiver runs down your spine as your eyes fall on the long road, fading away and extending as far as your eye can see...almost into a foggy dark haze, the train tracks running parallel making you feel desolate.

clouds suddenly move to cover the sun in the sky and you feel cold - you feel like something happened here, something important - but you have no idea. it makes you anxious, so you just swallow, saying nothing and instead looking ahead. richie does the same, and his knuckles are pale against the wheel.

"the only reason i came back was so i could see everyone." you say. it's quiet, but you know richie's agreeing with you.

the car rumbles on, eventually pulling past your old high school. you perk up, pointing to the glass and laughing. "wow, look at that shithole."

"swore we'd never go back there, didn't we? when we left?" richie says, amusement lacing his tone. you're clearly both relieved to have changed the subject, and you nod, chewing your lip. "yeah. you know, i know it was really terrible and stuff, but i have some pretty fond memories from that place."

humming, richie nods and slowly pulls into the parking lot. “remember those days?” he says, “kickin back in the ol’ schoolyard during lunch.”

you do remember those hot days, richie, bill and bev smoking cigs while you and eddie play a game of marbles or scramble to copy richie’s math homework. ben reading a book, mike eating stan’s sandwich. the heat barreling down on the eight of you...

he stops the car next to the football field and you snort slightly at its misery in the dying purple and blue of the summer twilight. "remember those bonfires that were always over in the woods right there?" he points a chipped nail towards the dense trees on the other side of the field, and you can see it.

the crackling of the wood, the orange glow reflecting the light strands of stan’s dark curls. there’s a sea of students from your class and the class above, everyone rowdy with drunken fun. there’s laughter drowned out by the boombox placed on the outskirts, blasting a salt-n-peppa song that has eddie bouncing around with some kids from track. over to the side, you can nearly see bev's lips curl around a note as richie strums on someone else's guitar, putting together some surprisingly pleasant chords while mike throws twigs into the fire, singing softly with richie and bev.

you can almost smell the smoky hot air from those nights and you remember the odd sensation of feeling invincible back in those days, when your greatest fear was nothing more than coming across your parents when you were too hungover to remember anything the next morning.

it’s almost melancholic, the realization that you’ll never have those years again. you’ll never have your friend group in the same way as you did in high school, and it was barely over a year ago. it hurts a bit, until you realize you’re here, in the car with richie.

but still, despite the feeling, you grin. “why did we think it was a good idea to party so close to the school?”

richie chuckles, “it was safer. for some reason.”

it makes you smile, "i wonder if those pabst cans are still hidden in all those hollow logs." you muse, a gentle smile splaying over your lips. richie huffs a small laugh at the memory of jorge garcia drunkenly stuffing the empty beer cans quickly into the log when the cops came.

a car pulls into the vacant lot behind you, and richie takes the liberty of driving away again, still not really sure where you're going.

the trees roll past, and soon you're passing through the downtown section of derry, causing the two of you to fall silent as your eyes flick up and down the nearly desloate streets. the aladdin passes by quickly and you remember going to see so many films with the others for less than five bucks a pop, richie slipping an arm around your shoulders and whispering in your ear about the weird worker who always gave you the eyes.

you smile lightly as your eyes fall to look ahead, passing the corner store. you remember how many times you and richie and stan stopped there after classes or during lunch to grab slushes while the workers weren’t looking. you remember the sticky fingers and bright blue tongues.

then as you stare more at the ugly front of the store, memories from middle school scratch the surface of your brain. "didn't the boys..." you say, perking up as you turn and watch it pass, richie looking at you attentively. "-eyes on the road, rich." you say absent-mindedly, "...didn't they... steal stuff from there? i can't remember why... it was for ben. tissues?" you ask, tilting your head. richie's brows furrow. "i had to stay outside with him, all i remember is bein' pissed i couldn't go in. dunno why, though." he mutters. you hum, sinking back in your seat.

"crazy, how quickly you forget your childhood." he says quietly.

the town slowly fades away before your eyes, and its just then that you realize you're going the opposite way from bill's. then it's plain grassland and marshes, dipping into the barrens. your lips twitch and the silence, while pleasant, makes you feel nervous.

you look to richie, all nervous slowly releasing from your body.

you feel stupid for thinking it, and you don't dare say it, but there's something really sweet about being in the middle of nowhere with him.

you feel like driving along this ugly, terrible road on the outskirts of a truly ugly and terrible town with someone as beautiful and captivating as richie is such an important moment; as if the roads along here are a place only you and richie share to yourselves.

"i kind of like taking the long way home with you." you let slip instead, instantly feeling hot and panicked as the words leave your mouth. "y-you know, because i just really didn't want to- er, i don't like being-"

as you stutter out some excuses, he leans forward towards the wheel, face turning to you with a smirk. "oh?" he asks. you feel flustered, your hands sweating and heart tingling as you stare at his handsome face.

"god, sorry." you say, feeling flushed, "i don't know why i keep rambling. it's so awkward."

"y/n, you could talk about anything." he says with a laugh, and you look at him, trying to ignore the sheer zoo of animals parading around in your stomach and instead escaping this moment with a sarcastic, "even dead squirrels?"

he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, his hair glinting in the light. "yeah, whatever baby. i just don't wanna be wasting my time alone when i could be here with you. that's what i'm trying to say."

and the stupid pet name almost makes you snort but you also get butterflies, the words that he's said making you smile so wide you're almost embarrassed. "yeah, well." you say bashfully, "i guess spending my time with you is, like... the best part of coming back home."

you avoid eye contact, staring out the window as you pass the house of your junior year bio partner. "hey," richie nudges your jaw and you almost jump at the feeling of his cold ring against the warmth of your skin. he speaks softly. "i'd never let you down, you know." he says, mischief in his eyes. you smile against his hand and look at him, his blue eyes warm and inviting and looking like home.

your eyes fall back towards the windshield and you see a sign up ahead. shifting, you look at richie again to find him still staring.

he's got such a terrible habit of watching you instead of the road (he has since high school), and that combined with his lead foot (also since high school - wentworth tozier was a menace on the streets) has you conditioned into reminding him of every obstacle that he may run into while driving.

"stop sign, richie." you mutter, knowing in his ramble he won't notice it (it happened way too many times as high schoolers). he seems to not really hear it, and you say again, "stop sign!"

just before it's too late, the car lurches as he slams the breaks and you just barely hit the white line, your hands bracing yourself against the dashboard. "oh my god." you hiss, shaking your head. richie's laughing.

"we've been hitting every red light. can't i just have one pass to not stop at one of these things?" richie says. you roll your eyes with a slight head shake. you can't believe him.

"you'll be the death of me, tozier." you mutter. richie's still laughing quietly and then he takes a big sigh, hand reaching out. you lean forward, hand reaching for the volume knob on the stereo just as richie does the same, and your hands brush by accident. you feel warm and instead of pulling away, his hand covers yours and he gently turns your hands, bringing up the volume of a green day song. it's seemingly just in the background as you watch your hand in richie's, then slowly turning your gaze up to his face.

he just stares at you as you stare back, wanting so badly to kiss him but wondering if he feels the same.

"hey." he whispers, quiet for the first time possibly ever. "hey." you respond softly, watching as he comes a bit closer. his hand is still in yours. "i am so happy to be home. with you." he says sincerely, his eyes wide and honest behind his glasses and his smile soft. your breath catches slightly and you smile, "me too. i always feel like this is the way it's supposed to be. u-us."

something in richie's eyes change, a light of sort, and then he's leaning into you and you're kissing.

his hand that isn't in yours falls to softly rub your thigh and you're taking a shuddering breath as your lips touch his. he tastes like mint chapstick and those stupid red-hots he was eating earlier, his lips slightly cold but his tongue warm as he slowly pulls you closer to him.

your mind almost falls blank as the world melts away, the only thing in your mind is how long you've missed out on this - richie is kind of unexpectedly a fantastic kisser. you pull him closer by his hair as his tongue grazes yours, his thumb tilting your jaw for a better angle.

but suddenly a horn honks loudly behind you and you both spring apart, your stomach panging with anxiety at the noise.

"shit." you hiss as you remember you're at a stop sign. richie snorts slightly, a smirk on his face despite the blush on his high cheekbones, feet going back to the gas pedal and clutch. his hand leaves your thigh as he drives forward and you clear your throat as the car turns behind you at the intersection, leaving you two back in the middle of nowhere with just you two.

it's tense for a few minutes, neither of you two really talking and you can tell the tension is going to kill richie, his hand twitching on the shift and his leg bouncing.

you break the silence after a couple more moments, "did you want to pull over-" "-yes." he says quickly, car almost swerving as he pulls off the road near the quarry. you laugh and grip the handle of the car as you slide to a stop and he laughs too, the feeling of glee unmatchable.

you both unclick your seatbelts after gaining a few breaths, and then you're leaning over the console to kiss richie hard enough on the lips that he falls back towards the window. he holds your face with his hands and he laughs a bit into the kiss, teeth grazing your bottom lip before tugging it. "goddamn, you're eager." he mutters into your mouth.

you smirk, pulling back. "fine, i don't have to kiss you. we have to be at bill's soon, anyways." you say, feigning a fake dismissive voice.

"wait, no, no. we've still got 20 minutes." richie defends after glancing at the stereo on the dash. his eyebrows raising in a plea. you giggle, leaning towards him and bringing your arm over. he's beaming as your face nears his and he moves to kiss you but you turn your head, instead letting his lips graze your neck as you lean to turn off the headlights.

"tease." richie mutters hotly against the skin of your neck before biting down softly, kissing over the skin. "i thought you said i was eager?" you say with a teasing smile. he hums, "y'know, it's pretty unfair to be teasin' me, toots. i've been eager to kiss you since we were seventeen." he says, and you can't help but smile, pulling him in to a kiss as his hands slide up your thighs and yours tangle in his messy curls.

you pull away slightly, "you want to get in the backseat?"

taglist: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @trashedfortozier @daughter-of-the-stars11 @oceandog13 @chl0bee @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @screammin @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters @five-motherfucking-hargreeves @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter

#richie tozier x reader #losers x reader #losers club x reader #bill denbrough x reader #stanley uris x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #beverly marsh x reader #mike hanlon x reader #ben hanscom x reader

73 notes · View notes

domesticmail · 3 years

Text

happy new year || vince dunn

AUTHOR’S NOTE: happy new year to everyone!!! i hope you’re all ringing in this year with love & kindness! this is a fic for @hockeynetwork ‘s fic exchange, particularly for @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys !!

i think you’re officially the last fic recipient of 2020, so congratulations!! i hope you like the fic <33

lots of thanks to @makarsy for beta-ing this for me!! <3

WORD COUNT: 5.7k

WARNINGS: dysfunctional family, divorce, alcohol !

SUMMARY: going back to your hometown to visit your family for the holidays is supposed to be fun. accidentally running into your childhood best friend is supposed to be nostalgic. love is supposed to have a happy ending. nothing disappoints more than high expectations.

She’d hung the mistletoe right under the hallway arch. The gray-green leaves, attached to stems that seemed to sink with the gravity, dangled from the red ribbon holding them together, tied to a hook hanging from the highest point of the arch. Small berries, white in color, caught your eye as you stood, frozen, in the living room.

The familiar feeling of dread and terror floods your veins. Your chest begins to freeze over as your heart picks up pace. It’s like someone lit a bonfire in the middle of a glacier, and it’s melting you. If you were a little less aware, you’d think you were sinking to your knees, weakness invading and settling deep in the bones of your legs like the mere memory of him saps you of all your willpower.

There’s a strange floating feeling in the gravity you feel. It’s like you’re being pulled up and down simultaneously, and for a moment you feel so confused, and it scares you, this feeling of anxiety and fear.

A familiar hand settles on your shoulder, pulling you out of the spiral. “I thought maybe it’d be a...cute little touch.” From the way the deep voice is straining to hit a higher octave, you’re guessing it’s your brother, mimicking your mom.

You turn, and you’re right. He’s rolling his eyes, saying some smartass comment or another. Something about how she has no regard for anyone but herself. You nod noncommittally as he downs a glass of champagne. You raise an eyebrow. “Don’t you think you should pace yourself? It’s just more fuel for Aunt Cindy.”

“Y/N, I’ve never cared about what she thinks, and I sure as hell am not gonna start now.”

You shrug as he looks you up and down. Your shitty christmas sweater is the only one you own, but it’s the perfect mixture of funny and definitely going to offend Mom. It’s a knitted, ugly green, and the front has Jesus with a party blower in his mouth. He’s wearing a birthday hat, one of the pointy cone ones, and is holding a white, circular balloon that has “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” written on it in red. He’s wearing a shirt that says “BIRTHDAY BOY”.

She nearly had a heart attack when she saw you wearing it last week. The mistletoe, then, is payback, presumably.

“Danny?”

He turns back to you, eyebrows raised.

“Are you getting more champagne?” You ask. He nods. “I want some too,” you sigh, joining him at the kitchen island. He smiles conspiratorially.

While he pours you a glass, you inquire about his life. You don’t see each other often, with you up in New York and him traveling over 300 days out of the year. “It’s a miracle you’re even here,” you joke.

Danny snorts, taking a sip of his own drink. “Couldn’t miss another family event, especially not since last month.”

Last month was his 10-year anniversary of joining the Bureau, a week after he turned 33. Your mother’s pride and joy, she’d gone all out, and had been infuriated when an hour into the party he’d been called to the office. And even while she was annoyed with his duties, she still took the time to go out of her way and inform both you and your sister, Jo, that “at least he has an important job.”

You laugh. “She was pissed.”

“Yeah, she called me later that day.”

“She called you? While you were at work?”

“Do you think she has any respect for my time?”

You raised your eyebrows, eyes wide in shock. “How can she possibly be so….not self-aware?”

“I have no clue.”

As though summoned by the mention of your mother, Jo enters the room, long blonde hair a mess around her face, red and puffy. She takes the spot next to you, grabs your champagne glass, and downs it.

“Hi, Jo,” you and Danny say in unison, neither of you surprised.

“Mom’s being such a bitch,” she spits, wiping her eyes. On her left hand, you spot something shiny, and it takes a moment for you to register the huge diamond ring on her finger. Like you can read each other’s minds, you and Danny look at each other, back to the ring, and then back to each other. Danny’s mouth is wide open in an ‘O’, and Jo squints at him. “What, Danny?”

She notices you staring at her, too. “Guys. What? Can’t you see I’m obviously in distress?”

“With that ring? You should be the happiest woman on the planet, Jo,” Danny replies.

“Ugh.” Jo sniffles aggressively. “I can’t be happy when Mom is being so...judgemental! I mean, can’t she just be happy for me?”

“Wait, wait,” you interrupt, hands up in a ‘slow down’ motion. “Who gave you that ring?”

Your sister looks at you like that’s the dumbest question you’ve ever heard. Her face in this expression looks almost exactly like your mother’s, and it strikes a nerve deep down. “You don’t remember?”

“No.”

“Peter. From - “

“The guy from the coffee shop?” You’re completely surprised. Jo makes impulsive decisions, yes, but getting engaged to a guy she’s been on four dates with? That’s just plain reckless.

“Yes. He proposed last week.” She sniffles again, this time trying to seem at least a little more dignified. Chin high, she proclaims, “We’re in love.”

Danny sips his champagne, still completely caught off-guard. He has a small smile as he watches you say, “Jo, that’s fucking insane.”

Jo rolls her eyes. “You wouldn’t understand. You’re too young.”

Your brother laughs. “She’s only two years younger than you.”

“That’s two whole years of experience she doesn’t have.”

“You realize I’m not seventeen anymore, right, Jo? I’m an actual adult.”

“An adult with an actual job,” Danny points out.

“I have a job!” Your sister protests.

“What job? Oh, wait, you mean being a sugar baby, right? That’s your job?”

Jo glares at you. “That’s not fair, and you know it.”

You shrug and drink some more champagne. “I’m being honest.”

“You’re being mean.” “Oh my god, Jo. You’re the one getting married to a guy you’ve known for two months.”

“We’re in love!”

“You can’t possibly be in love!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was talking to the expert of all things romantic! Please, O Great One, give me your opinion!”

You pressed your lips together tightly. “You’re not funny.”

“Oh, wait! I forgot,” Jo continues. “The Master of Love has a boyfriend.”

Your face heats up. You’d only told your mom you had a boyfriend so she would stop badgering you with questions about your love life. You hadn’t been thinking about the consequences, you’d just wanted to stop the questioning, and that had clearly backfired. “Mom told you that?”

Your sister smiles, seemingly satisfied with this secret knowledge. Danny, who’s been listening to the conversation with wide eyes, is grinning like a maniac behind his champagne flute.

“Yes,” Jo says. “So, where is he?”

Scrambling internally, you frown. “He’s busy.”

“Probably spending Christmas with his family,” Danny cuts in. That is surprising - usually he’ll let Jo beat you down, and then show support later. And anyway, he doesn’t even know you’re lying about the boyfriend. “They’re probably ten times less dysfunctional.”

At the last word, Jo switches gears completely, snapping her head to look at Danny. “We’re not dysfunctional,” she hisses.

Your brother laughs in her face. “Yes, we are.”

As they begin to argue, you take this as your chance to escape. You leave your champagne on the island - alcohol will only make this worse, and you want to be somewhat lucid for dinner. On the bright side, the less you drink now, the more you can drink later. You make your way down the hall, stopping to look at the photos framed on the walls in a remarkably perfect design. Every Christmas card photo meticulously arranged from oldest to newest, below the childhood pictures. There are a few of Jo, with her beautiful curls and pearly-white teeth, playing lacrosse. Everyone’s high school graduation photos. Lots of photos of Danny, the eldest and golden child. His first birthday, his eighteenth birthday, first day in college, first Christmas back home, various pictures of him and your parents. Any picture including your dad is small and inconspicuously placed, so as not to draw attention to it.

Scattered between pictures of your siblings are the ones of you. They’re all smaller; the only large one is your high school cap and gown picture. And the others aren’t of your accomplishments - they’re of you at home, smiling, with a book, or building a snowman with your dad in the backyard. Tucked below a picture of Danny and one of his ex-girlfriends (Sandy, your mother’s favorite) and above Jo’s first varsity photo is your favorite. Your dad took it when you were fourteen, on an old camera, one that used film, and had developed it himself. You had gone to visit him in Oregon, the only one who’d wanted to go, and as a surprise, he’d taken you to the beach. Your hair is wet and sticking to your face, and you’re making a silly face - lips puckered, eyes crossed, hands at either side of your face like fish gills. It’s a decade old, and the memory has faded a bit in your mind, but you can still remember the way he laughed at you when he took the photo. “That’ll be a good one,” he’d proclaimed. “I’ll send it to you.”

That’s how it was every summer since then. You went off to stay with him in Oregon, and Jo stayed at home with your mother. Danny, seven years older than Jo and nine older than you, wasn’t involved, at that point - he was just joining the bureau. Nobody had batted an eye when your dad didn’t show up to the party last month. Him and Danny had never quite gotten along.So you spend June through August with him at Gold Beach. Just the picture brings to mind memories from the cottage; the summer your dad grew a beard; him bringing you to the touristy area, to a struggling record shop to let you pick out your first album. You still had it, tucked away in an old box of vinyls in the back of your closet at home. The Chain, Fleetwood Mac.

There was something surprising about your mom keeping this picture. She hated that you spent your summers with him. It wasn’t uncommon for her to blame your personality as an adult on those vacations with your dad, as though he was the reason you were a journalist, and not that he’d simply loved you for who you were, and given you the love and affection you’d needed. So the picture here, that was confusing. In fact, you’d thought for years she’d thrown it out, because she talked so often about how deeply she wishes she’d fought for full custody in the divorce. Why would she keep the picture?

There’s no way she kept it as a reminder of him. She’d never voluntarily keep something like that around.

So then, why does she have it?

“Do you have to wear that horribly offensive sweater?”

And there she is, the devil herself, shrill as ever. You turn to the end of the hall and find your mother there, in her favorite cream-colored dress. Her hair was in a bun, and you knew without even being close to her that she had wasted an incredible amount of hairspray on keeping it in place. She’s wearing the pearl earrings and necklace set Danny gave her for her birthday last year, and on her wrist was a surprise - the white watch you’d gifted her.

“Hey to you too, Mom,” you greet, not dignifying the question with an answer. The best way to deal with her was to pretend you didn’t hear her little jabs.

“Honestly, Y/N, how do you expect us to have a peaceful dinner with my family when you’re wearing such blatantly tasteless clothing?” She approaches you and seems to be picking apart your appearance piece by piece. You expected no different. “Our family. And I know Leah and Mark will think it’s funny.” The only two cousins of thirteen that you can stand, Leah is Aunt Cindy’s only daughter, and Mark is her eldest son.

“What?” Genuine confusion etches itself into her features.

You raise an eyebrow. “Our family. I’m related to them, too.”

She snorts. “No, you take too much after Ryan’s family to be a Benson.” The mention of her last name, once her maiden name, presses a button for you. When they got divorced, Danny took your mom’s last name, and when Jo asked, she took her to city hall so she could change it back to Benson.You were the only child who kept your father’s last name.

“Technically, I’m half Benson, half L/N.”

“Mmm,” she hums noncommittally. “Sure. If that’s what you believe.”

You furrow your brows. “You gave birth to me.”

Smiling tightly, she says, “Babies have been switched at hospitals before.”

Completely taken aback, your jaw drops open, and she takes this chance to survey your teeth. “I see you’ve had dental work done since last month.”

You close your mouth tightly and frown. “Just a cleaning.”

She looks you up and down and once again offers nothing but a disingenuous “Sure.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence before your mother inhales sharply and asks, “Has Jo told you yet?”

“About the engagement?”

“Yes.” She is gritting her teeth so hard you’re sure she’s going to crack a molar.

“Yeah.”

“And your opinion?”

You shrug. “I think it’s royally stupid, but it’s her decision.”

This seems to satisfy her, because she nods and, after looking you up and down once more and confirming that you are not going to change your outfit, she heads past you, her heels clicking forcibly against the hardwood.

You exhale audibly when she is gone, the tension in your chest and back releasing slowly. Conversations with her are so tense you can hardly breathe, she takes up so much air.

Raised voices echo down the hall from the kitchen. You look uncomfortably in the direction the chaos is coming from. Forcing yourself to walk towards the room, you find yourself standing quietly in the entryway to the kitchen.

Jo and your mother are going at it again. Your sister’s face is red and puffy, she’s clearly been crying the entire time. Danny is sitting down at the dining room table, pouring himself yet another glass. You sigh, and there’s only one thing that comes to mind as you watch this scene unfold, your mother talking loudly and sternly to Jo, who is yelling and sobbing.

God, you hate it here.

---

You’ve been banished (read: released) to the store, to pick up eggs. And milk. But only almond milk, the soy kind. You’re not sure that exists, but whatever. Any chance to escape your mother’s house is a chance you’ll take.

This grocery store has been standing since before you were born. Your parents went to it, their parents went to it, and even their parents went to it. O’Malley’s General is over five decades old, and even worse -

As you enter through the old wooden door, you peer around at the inside of the store. Fruit and veggies are still on your left, the over-the-counter pharmaceuticals to your right. No different from when you were five.

“Y/N!” The man sitting at one of the two checkout desks to your left offers you a wide grin.

- it’s a family business. When you were younger, it was run by Dennis O’Malley, a charmer in every sense of the word. You, Danny, and Jo used to make fun of your mother every time she blushed at one of Dennis’ not-quite-well-meaning flirts.In the time you’ve been gone, Dennis must’ve died, because his usual spot at the foremost checkout counter, his rickety metal stool, is occupied by his son, Ryan. He’s your age, and it appears he never grew into his big front teeth. You offer him a wave as he sets down his magazine and makes his way over to you.

“Hi, Ryan,” you say, picking up a basket from the stack near the door.

He takes a place next to you as you head for the small refrigerators at the back of the produce section, where you know the milk and eggs are. “How are you? Feels like I haven’t seen you in years!”

You laugh politely, smile stretching thin. “Yeah, it’s been a little bit. I’m good.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

The awkward quiet stretches on. You open the glass door and look for the milk your mom asked for, almond soy milk, you’re sure that isn’t real but nonetheless -

“You look just as pretty as when I last saw you,” Ryan compliments, and you feel your stomach turn at the words. Even in high school he’d been this way, interested in you, watching you from across the cafeteria and sticking notes to your locker in passing periods. He’s a little too close, you realize as you turn to him. You can feel his hot breath on your face, and instantly you smell that he didn’t brush his teeth this morning. Your flesh crawls as you meet his eyes. “Thanks,” you offer slowly. Your eyes dart to find a way around him as you say, “Ryan, you’re a little too close to me.”

He doesn’t make an effort to give you any space - in fact, quite the opposite. He steps his right foot forward, moving at nearly the pace of molasses, and you feel your adrenaline spike when he reaches his hand out to feel the cloth of your ugly sweater, his touch suddenly turning to a death grip on the cotton. “We’ve been this close before,” he murmurs, and you panic.

Your hands come up to his shoulders and shove him away as hard as you possibly can. You succeed in pushing him away, partly, but his right hand is still gripping your sweater, anchoring him to you. His quiet demeanor dissolves into something resembling hurt as he pulls you closer to him, grabbing your other shoulder with his free hand -

The front door squeaks open. Ryan, distracted, turns to look at the door. You take this moment to finally shove him off of you, running around him. There’s another man standing at the front door, eyes flicking back and forth from you and Ryan. When you move to get past him, he appears to regain his senses, following you out of the store.

“Wait! Are you okay?” He yells, and the sound of his voice stops you in your tracks.

You freeze in the middle of the sidewalk. There’s no way. There’s no way. You’re delusional. “Excuse me?” He asks again.

You turn slowly on your heels. He looks so concerned, his face contorted in the same way he used to frown when you’d fail a turn on the ice while practicing your routine. That worry, reminiscent of how he’d skate over and offer you a hand, pulling you up with a simple “Are you alright?”

You exhale, hard. There’s no sign of recognition on his face, no nostalgia, no recovered memories of an old friend. You’re having a freak coincidence right now, and the only other person who would understand has no idea who you are.

He walks over, his boots crunching rock salt as he surveys your face for wounds. “Can you hear me?”

Snap out of it.

You blink a couple times. Nod. Twice. “Yes, I’m sorry, yes, I’m okay.”

The friend smiles, but it’s confused, worried. “Do you need me to call 911, or…?”

“No,” you laugh. The noise catches both of you by surprise, but you can’t stop, dropping the basket, giggles shaking your body. The situation is a little comical, in all honesty - you’re stuck in your hometown with your dysfunctional family, you were practically just assaulted by someone who’s been in love with you since the eighth grade, and the boy you were once in love with doesn’t remember you. It’s like the plot of a Hallmark movie, if Hallmark movies were written by whoever writes Grey’s Anatomy.

You look up at him, and there’s that little chuckle of his, the one that lights up his whole face. He’s confused, yeah, but he’s got the right spirit. You clear your throat and extend your hand to him. “Thank you, really.”

He takes it gently. “Sure. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, definitely, thank you.” Releasing his hand, you pick up the basket from the ground. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m good.”

“Okay.” He’s still watching your face carefully. “You know what? Why don’t I accompany you home?”

Oh, no. No thank you. Not today. Not in my Hallmark movie.

“No thanks. I’ll be fine.”“Can I at least give you my number?”

You look at him incredulously. “Why?”

He shrugs. “So you can text me to make sure you got home okay.”

Your laugh is cold, abrupt. “Why would you care?”

“Because I just saw you get assaulted! Is it a crime to care about people?”

“No, but it’s weird to give your number to a stranger.”

“People do it all the time.”

“Oh, do they, really? Where?”

“Bars. Clubs. Parties.”

“We’re not in any of those places.”

He rolls his eyes with a smile, already whipping out his phone. “I’m Vince. Dunn.”

You laugh a little self-consciously. “Yeah, I know.”

Vince looks up from tapping his screen to raise his eyebrow at you. “You’re into hockey?”

“No. We went to school together.”

His eyes widen, first with shock. You see the initial confusion pass and become replaced by intense, sudden recognition. “Y/N?”

You grin broadly. “Long time no see.”

---

This absolutely wasn’t your fault.

You hadn’t ever expected him to go along with it, let alone offer himself up to help you. You’d merely been commiserating. Right, sharing your troubles with a friend.

Vince takes you to brunch the next day, a welcome reprieve from your family. Your mother protests, but you’re only half-listening to her while you watch the read 9:13 am appear below your most recent text to him.

vince

La Fontaine is way overpriced. Let me show you a place

You smile and type back, what? so you can get me alone?

vince

Is it really so bad to want to spend time alone with an old friend?

vince

We haven’t seen each other in years, there’s no way you know any good breakfast places here

you

you remember that i grew up here, right?

vince

Sorry, how long’s it been since you’ve been here?

you

touche

you

bastard

Vince

It’s within walking distance. I’ll meet you at Bailey’s at 10?

you

sounds like a plan

It’s good, to see him again. Your breath fogs the space in front of you, dissipating when you walk through it, your steps in perfect synchronization with Vince’s. He leads you down a back road that hadn’t existed when you were little and entertains you the whole walk with tales of his hockey shenanigans. You find yourself shocked that the Vince you knew as a child, the goofy kid that never quite fit in, is now a famous professional athlete. Time has changed him, too; he’s so mature now, with his good posture and manners. He holds the door open to a small diner off Quincy and Arlette, and you find yourself wondering if an alien kidnapped your childhood best friend and possessed his body.

When he starts talking is when you feel your heart begin to slip. The way he grins when he’s talking about his friends or his family or something stupid he’s done is breathtaking, his lips reaching his eyes. The way he throws his head back when he laughs, a deep, shaky noise, like if he’s too loud he’s going to break something.

So when he asks about your love life, you can’t help it. You open your mouth and words materialize on your lips without you even consciously forming them. You tell him everything, about your tragic love history and the way you felt when your mother asked snidely if you were going to bring a boy home for Christmas and the panic in your chest when you blurted “yes.”

And when your lip wobbles after you finish, he swears he can see tears beginning to prick at your eyes. Baby, he thinks - no, he feels the word in his heart, looking at you like this.It’s not your fault he offered himself up. He’s a grown man, he makes his own decisions, and he is the one who decided to pretend to be your boyfriend at Christmastime. In front of your family.

You’re just the one who’s going along with it.

---

“We should probably hold hands.”

The skin of his hands is rough, calloused, a sharp contrast to your soft touch. His palm feels so big against yours, the flat surface nearly dwarfing your whole hand, long fingers enclosed around yours. He bites his nails - you know from one glance at the chewed nubs of calcium.

“And hug,” he adds. “Couples hug.”

“Okay, fine, hugging, too.”

When his arms snake their way around your torso from behind, you become acutely aware of just how touch-starved you are. Every nerve ending is on fire, rocketing signals lightning-fast to your brain, adrenaline flooding your system. Your heartbeat quickens, and you know he feels it, the bastard, because your mother asks him what he’s smiling about, and he says “Nothing.”

You turn in his arms when she leaves, taking a step away from him. He looks mildly dismayed at the loss of your warmth but doesn’t comment on it. You lead the topic of conversation away from the hug.

“What about kissing?” Vince points out. “Couples kiss.”

Five.

That line has been ringing through his head all night. Every glimpse he catches of you, every tiny little look, makes the phrase rattle around his skull like a maraca of that one phrase.

When you catch his eye across the kitchen and make a funny face at him, a small gesture of togetherness in an atmosphere so cold and distancing.

“Couples kiss.”

Four.

When he rounds the corner to find the bathroom. You come around the opposite side at the same time and smack your face right against his chest, and when you pull back frantically you look up at Vince with a look of such pure apology he can’t help it.

“Couples kiss.”

Three.

You take his hand under the table at dinner. You don’t even really know why - it’s a strangely intimate gesture - but you see it through, your small hand resting gently on top of his.He flips his hand over so you can lace your fingers through his.

“Couples kiss.”

Two.

You huff, considering him.

“Only if it’s an absolute emergency.”

New Year’s isn’t an emergency, Vince knows. He knows New Year’s is actually the exact opposite of an emergency, nothing important, and if he could, he’d walk away. At least, he pretends he would.

But he can’t, because your siblings are egging him on, face-to-face with you.

“Couples kiss.”

“Only if it’s an absolute emergency.”

“An absolute emergency.”

“Couples kiss.”

“Emergency.”

“Only if it’s an absolute emergency.”

He knows New Year’s isn’t an emergency and he knows he could just brush Danny and Jo off but the light is framing you so perfectly, and the way you smile at him so earnestly - his brain is shaking like a pinball machine but he doesn’t have time to consider that so he kisses you.

One.

He kisses you.

Your lips are sweet against his. You taste like sugar, he notices.

And then you pull away and make an excuse to use the restroom again and while Jo and Danny screech congratulations and celebrations at him. The champagne glass in his hand feels empty, and the hand he had tangled in your hair only seconds ago feels like it’s burning.

Couples kiss.

---

When you press the hastily-wrapped present into his hands, you won’t meet his eyes. It’s days after that kiss, that goddamned mistake, and you’re so shaky you can barely keep it together. The sight of you in such an uncomfortable state in Vince’s presence hits him in the heart and causes a deep knot to settle in his stomach.

Idiot.

“I know we said no presents,”

“We’re not a couple,” you said. “You don’t have to get me anything.”

“But I think you deserve at least one. For putting up with my family.”

“What if I want to get you something? As friends?”

He offers his best normal smile. “You didn’t have to,” he says. A car horn blasts from somewhere near.

You scowled at him, but he just continued. “I can get presents for my friends.”

It’s ironic that he’s the one who asked to give presents but here you are, with a present, and here he is, empty-handed.

The silence is awkward.“Well,” you say. “Have a good trip.”

You’re turning to leave when his hand grips your upper arm, holding you in place. You move your gaze to meet his, and before you can say anything, he says,

“Hey.” His eyes are boring holes into yours. You feel goosebumps litter your skin when he says, “Happy New Year.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, and he lets you go.

He lets you go.

---

The box weighs heavy in his lap. The car moves with every bump in the road, and with each jolt he feels the cardboard corners, wrapped in patterns of reindeer faces and Santa’s smile, pressing into his legs. The sharp, quick pain is a constant reminder, and it makes him think of you. Even the wrapping paper is so stereotypically you, obviously something you grabbed from the back of your closet or (more likely) borrowed from a neighbor or classmate. He could see it now, the way you asked with a smile if they had any ugly wrapping paper, the confusion on their face as you lit up when they said, yeah, why? You delighted in the stupid pattern, so busy that he could barely focus on just one aspect. And you’d certainly picked a black Sharpie to write his name, knowing full well it’d easily be lost in the mottled colors and insane patterns. The way you wrote Vince, in that unique combination of print and cursive, like you couldn’t decide - again, so predictably you. He traces the big V with his index finger, picturing you in your apartment, on the floor, taking special care to write his name this way, on the top where he would at least have a chance of seeing it. Your hair falling into your face, hand gripping the pen and being oh-so-meticulous about the way you wrote it, his name, not wanting it to be too big, but not too small either. Just the right size to grab his attention.

Of course you would.

And you’d have known that he would hate to tear open the paper, to rip something with so much significance to him. He flips the box over and finds the taped-over seam. There has to be a way to undo this without ruining the wrapping, he knows, so he picks at the tape gently, taking care not to destroy the delicate paper. The taping is perfect, because you, obviously, couldn’t handle anything else. It spans the exact length of the box, no more, no less; you’ve always been a perfectionist.

He manages to unwrap the box with only one or two tiny tears and feels a tiny moment of pride immediately eclipsed by the desire to know what, exactly, you’ve given him for Christmas. He flips it over to find the top once more and does so successfully. The top flaps of cardboard are folded over each other without any tape, and he remembers begging you to teach him how to do this when you were kids, making presents for the teachers at your school. You never did.

He pulls one of the tabs and, like magic, the whole top undoes itself. Inside, there’s another small box with what he assumes are polaroids, two tiny boxes next to each other, a wrapped present in the shape of a book, all placed meticulously on shredded filler paper. Delicately taped on top of the book-shaped item is an envelope.

On the front, Vince, in your script. Of course.

Something about the box smells familiar, so he brings the envelope to his nose, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. The scent of your favorite perfume, the one you wear constantly, your lucky charm (as you’ve informed him several times), floods his senses, and he nearly cries at the nostalgia that fills his heart. His whole body aches with pain, begging him, make the Uber driver turn the car around, run back.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he opens the envelope carefully. Inside is a stack of papers folded together several times, small enough to fit the package. He can’t help but smile at the long, flowing script you use when you write on loose-leaf, when you’re feeling emotional. Again the way you write has his heartstrings tugging. He isn’t a crier, usually, but for you he makes an exception. For you tears gather in his eyes, threatening to break and bury him. For you he feels, feels so deeply and painfully he doesn’t know if he can manage to read more than Dear Vince because it might kill him, the aching in his heart and the begging in his hands. The memory of you is poised for destruction in his mind and he can’t help but wonder if you’d known this is what you could do to him, this was the power you held over his life.

Dear Vince, that fatal first line reads.

Dear Vince.

#vince dunn fic

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lvsamine · 3 years

Text

Lusamine paused, glancing up from her paperwork with furrowed brows. It was faint, and she wondered for a moment if it had even been real, but... She thought she heard something like an explosion. While there was a moment of worry, it soon dissipated as she rationalized that it really couldn't have been anything like that - Heating and electrical had their bi-yearly fix-up last month, and there weren't any Pokemon in the facility that had Self-Destruct or Explosion...

She couldn’t finish her thought. When a long unused alarm began blaring, after having the daylights scared out of her, Lusamine's heart practically stopped. Eyes widening, blood turning cold, she pondered for a second how something could be both nostalgic and horrifying.

The Ultra Beast alarm was going off.

“President Lusamine!!” A voice suddenly called from her intercom, sounding just as panicked as she felt. “Lusamine!! Are you there?!”

“Yes,” Her voice shook. “Yes, I'm here. What's going on?”

“It's – It's UB-01! It's Nihilego, the – the one from Ultra Space!! It's gone! It's trying to escape!!” It took a little too long for the words to properly register, the feeling of dread that flooded her senses overwhelming her mind to the point of short-circuiting. Nihilego... Her Nihilego... The one that had been trapped in a safe for three years? It's trying to escape?

“What the fuck do you mean it's trying to escape?” She suddenly snapped, her entire body beginning to shake. “How did it get out of its ball?! Who let it out?!” Her breath hitched as her heart skipped a beat, the overload of emotions aggravating her heart's rhythm.

“N-No one! It just – It just got out! We don't – We don't know how! Please, Lusamine, we need help! It's attacking ever – yo – in the secre – abs! Ple – lp us ...”

“What happened? Are you there?” A pause, with no response. “Answer me!” The intercom turned into indecipherable static, and she smashed her fits against her desk in frustration. It didn't matter, enough had been said for Lusamine to know that everyone in the secret labs was in danger. Standing quickly and grabbing Zinnia's Pokeball, she bolted out of her office, nothing but adrenaline and fear pumping through her veins.

It feels like an eternity before she reaches her destination, the descent of the elevator slowly revealing the damage that her precious beast had caused – The door to Secret Lab A had been blown open, shrapnel and debris littering the ground and no doubt destroying any information that had been kept in there. Several employees had been knocked unconscious, with only one trying to command his Pokemon to attack the Ultra Beast, to do anything to stop whatever rampage it was on.

Things fell unnaturally silent when the elevator hit the ground, Lusamine's horrified gaze falling onto Nihilego, and time seemed to stop. The beast that she'd loved so, so much – Her beast, her precious beast that she did absolutely anything to be with, the beast she would have died for, had it wanted such a thing... For the first time in three long, painful, and lonely years... The two gazed at one another, as if they were the only two in the room – The only two in the world.

It saw her, and she knew that it recognized her. Its previous tantrum had come to a complete stop, and now it was facing her. Its two front tendrils nudged against each other, like a timid child fiddling with their hands, and Lusamine nearly threw up right then and there. Her breath kept catching as her heart pumped irregularly, her frame visibly trembling, unable to move, to release Zinnia, to subdue Nihilego for the safety of Alola...

She'd been so ready to fight it off, and now she found herself completely paralyzed at the mere sight of it.

The beast moved. Slowly, it floated a little closer to her, oddly cautious about what Lusamine might do. With its back fully turned, the employee commanded his Kadabra to strike it with a Psybeam. The beast quickly whipped around and fired off a Sludge Wave, the toxic gunk sinking into Kadabra's skin before it had a chance to do anything. It let out a strange, alien screech that no one could possibly decipher, but both Lusamine and her employee understood the message – It was a warning, don't interfere. She could only stare in abject horror as her precious beast turned back to face her, the halls eerily silent once again.

It was so close. No more than a foot away from her, Nihilego hovered in place, tilting its head and fiddling with its tentacles again... It almost looked like it felt shy. It recognized her, she was absolutely certain now... Why had it escaped? How had it escaped? Why was it doing this? What did it want from her? Why was it acting so sheepish? Why couldn't she move? Why couldn't she speak? Why was she reacting like this? Why? Why? Why why why whywhywhywhy-

“Ah...!”

Her stomach dropped when one of those cold tendrils lifted to gently touch her face. The softness of the gesture, how careful it was not to hurt her, how it resembled a loved one affectionately cupping her face... Her dull green eyes quickly welled up, and it took almost nothing for them to overflow. There was so much happening in her head, to the point that it felt like her brain might shut down. Lusamine was happy, she was sad, confused, shocked, filled with love, filled with hate, and she was so, so scared. The cascade of tears gave away everything she felt.

The stiff, slow, robotic movements of her arm breaking free from her frozen state was almost a surprise to her. It felt so unnatural that she wondered if she was imaging it, but the sharp jolt that came with touching something as cold as Nihilego felt far too real. Just as its touch had been, Lusamine's was tentative, almost reluctant, but there wasn't an ounce of animosity to be found. They gazed at each other silently while her tears continued to spill, but before too long, the Ultra Beast let out another strange and distorted screech.

This one was quiet, soft, and though she didn't know exactly what it was saying, she knew that it was something kind – Her heart wanted to believe it was kind. A hello, a goodbye, an 'I missed you', any sign of affection to let her know that Nihilego still loved her.

The tentacle slowly moved down her face, before Nihilego retracted it and put some distance between them. There was a wet, almost slimy residue left on her skin, and as her crying slowly became more and more hysterical, the more it seemed to burn.

Then, suddenly, the air behind Nihilego split, as if a knife had cut open the very fabric of space. She knew what was happening far before it opened completely – Yet, as the wormhole fully formed and Nihilego began to drift towards it, she still found herself unable to act. She couldn't stop it. She couldn't do a single fucking thing to stop her precious beast from leaving, to end up who knows where, to be on the loose in Alola once again.

All Lusamine could do was watch as Nihilego vanished into the wormhole, disappearing from Aether Paradise. The wormhole sealed itself back up, and just like that...

It was gone.

Her weakened knees finally caved in, and she collapsed to the ground, staring blankly at where her precious beast had been moments ago.

“M-Miss Lusamine!” The employee that had tried to protect her earlier suddenly sprinted up to her, now that there wasn't the threat of an Ultra Beast attacking him. “Lusamine, are you okay?! What – What happened? What was that?!” He kneeled down next to her, obvious concern on his face as he checked her for wounds.

She couldn't speak. In a moment of vulnerability, of genuine fear and infatuation – In a moment of weakness, she didn't do the one thing she needed to. She didn't protect her staff. She didn't stop Nihilego, she didn't even try to fight it. Zinnia's ball was still in her hand, her grip far too tight, so angry that she couldn't do something as simple as throwing it to let her Bewear take down the beast. Now, because of her... Because of Lusamine, the entire region was in danger. For the first time in years, that parasitic Ultra Beast was a threat to the entirety of Alola.

“Lusamine...?” The employee's voice was softer this time, likely in response to her growing distress. She opened her mouth, as if to respond, but all that came out was a horribly pathetic whimper before she caved into herself.

“H-Hey, Lusamine...” A gloved hand placed itself on her back, which she didn't acknowledge at all. The fact that she wasn't alone barely mattered in this moment, but god she would hate herself later for being this disgustingly pitiful in front of someone else.

Why couldn't she do anything? Why was she still so captivated by its beauty? Why was she so scared?

It was too much.

All Lusamine could do in this moment was cry.

#god i format things so differently in openoffice but tumblr HATES it #im upset this piece of Actual Real Writing has to be formatted like this but whatre you gonna do #ANYWAY... this is Important Plot...#drabble;#even though its. far too long to be a drabble i have nothing else to tag it with LMAOOO

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emerald-amidst-gold · 3 years

Note

17, 21, and 24 for the OTP ask? 😁

Well, hello, friend! I shall answer for that is DUTY! >:D

17. What senses (sights, smells, feelings, etc). remind them of each other?

I did answer this one in another ask, but I can think of a few more to share! (I got so much for these two, don't worry~)

So, another thing that reminds Fane of Solas is any kind of painting, namely frescos. Surprise, surprise! But the reasoning is mainly because Fane used to dream of frescos painted in a temple, one he always finds himself traversing in his dreams in the earlier years of his life. The style was nostalgic, impeccable, as if the hand that had held the brush was fixated on getting every line, every detail, every color, and every proportion just right. The paintings were like little anecdotes, way points trying to guide him in a direction with paint and plaster, but the story was always left unfinished, and it isn't until all the memories flood back that Fane realizes who was the artist of his dreams. *winks*

Now, I'm not usually one for 'smell' references, but oddly enough, Solas is reminded of Fane through one. Namely, chamomile. This was something I thought of one day when I was fighting with a headache and I was just watching a Twitch stream, and I was like, "Chamomile is a natural stress reliever. Fane doesn't like tea, but there are bath oils and incenses infused with chamomile, right? He would definitely be given that by someone or maybe even takes initiative to get it himself." Thus, the headcanon was established! Fane smells like chamomile, and Solas can't help but smile when he smells it from another source, knowing that his dragon is trying to help himself in some way.

21. How have they changed each other for the better/for the worse?

So, there's a little bit of A and little bit of B for this question. There has indelibly been a positive influence on both Fane and Solas due to each other. Basically, it all stems from pre-Inquisition, aka Elvhenan/Arlathan.

Fane, as a dragon, was inherently tasked with observing elvenkind, watching the flow of which they progressed and if their machinations benefited the world in which they lived. Each dragon had this inherent task, albeit in different ways. Dragons that lived in arid regions were tasked with controlling the sandscape, preserving the ancient temples by covering them with said sand, making inaccessible areas accessible for wildlife, so on, so forth.

Fane, and the others of his specific kin, not only watched the Elvhen, they guided them, but only if it was deemed necessary. White dragons could not want for anything beyond what the world needed, and their powers of absorbing, reflecting, and understanding emotions was what made them highly sought after by the Evanuris. When the Evanuris began enslaving elves, they began enslaving dragons, too. And this is around the time Solas and Fane met; when Fane was the last of his white kin. Fane had gone into recluse, hiding; he turned his back on those who were suffering because he couldn't bear to see them be subjected to magic bending and breaking their minds, turning their eyes grey where they were otherwise a multitude of colors. Solas found him through a curious venture as we all know the dear wolf is prone to curiosity.

Their beginnings were rough. Fane tried multiple, multiple times to kill Solas. He saw him as no different than those who had thus far enslaved his kin. He held anger, rage, resentment, and pride, which warped his nature of calm observation and cool acceptance to preemptive prejudice and scornful indifference. Fane stopped caring; about everything. Solas reached out to him, wanted to help him, and for the sake of keeping things somewhat short, they grew close after constant revisits and...silence. Solas allowed Fane to watch him, learn about him, read his eyes, and in turn, Fane began to open up, rediscover his original nature, and learn about another side from a more personal view. Solas taught Fane that nothing can change or return to what they had been unless he tried, and he did, even though it ended poorly. And even though it takes him twenty-four years and a lot of hardship, Fane finally remembers that important lesson and he's forever grateful, even as they walk onto the same stage that burned before.

Now, Fane has helped Solas do something we all know the dear wolf is a bit hesitant to do, and that's show his emotions. I stated once upon a time that my interpretation of Solas a little more...personal. Basically, I'm exploring a side of Solas that we don't really get to see, and that's an emotional one. My stories encompass a lot of emotion, a lot of grey morality, so I try to do that while keeping Solas in character with how we know him. However, with this AU of mine, Solas is more in touch with his emotions when with Fane. Why? Because Fane did what he was tasked with from birth; he guided. Through silent looks and seemingly disgruntled huffs, Fane allowed Solas to open up, to feel safe when every corner held a knife.

He let him be him. Not the Dread Wolf. Not the Rebel God. Not anything more than what he was naturally, and that was a being who needed to let their emotions go as freely as the magic so intertwined with their nature. They were friends, companions, even though they were two completely different species, and for all intents and purposes, enemies. They loved each other, but couldn't say it. After Fane died, Solas locked up again, kept his emotions sealed away, but when Fane reappeared in his life, both unknowing of who the other was, it all came back so easily, so fluidly. And what you'll see in a lot of my stories of Solas and Fane's early acquaintanceship in Inquisition is that they flow, they let the other be weak even though they don't want to be weak.

As for how they change each other for the worse...well, that ties into a lot of what I have planned during Post-Trespasser arcs. My stories are 'fix-its', but again, grey morality. There's a happy ending, but not without opposition first and a lot of hard lessons. Solas and Fane will do shit that makes people go, "Why?!", but aren't we already saying that with what Solas canon-wise is doing? Why not add an Inquisitor into the mix and live the fantasy we weren't allowed to choose?

24. What is something they have each had to forgive the other for?

Okay, so Fane's isn't what you'd think it is. You all know me, I like to go, 'You thought not! AHA! >:D'. Most people who've read my stories might think, "Oh, Fane has to forgive Solas for erecting the Veil because it's driving his kin insane." That makes sense, but it's not what Fane has had to forgive Solas for. Fane has had to forgive Solas for doubting him.

What I mean by this is that Solas tries to steer Fane away from helping him (Look! It's canon after all! XD). And mainly it's because Solas sees Fane thriving in this new life, connecting with people, seeing the world from a different perspective, and so he starts to think that Fane wouldn't want to help him. Which is complete bullshit because Fane, even when Solas tries to gently steer him away, is like, "I'm here. I'm not going to abandon you again." But typical Solas is typical Solas and is weighed down with grief and his doubts, but eventually he relents after a dragon fight. I won't say when this will occur, but...yeah. It's a bad time, and it shows Solas that Fane wasn't thriving as well as he'd thought. It takes a bit, but Fane comes to understand why Solas was trying to guide him away, and it helps when you're a stubborn dragon in love with a stubborn wolf! :D

Now for Solas, I have a little excerpt from a short story (the one I've been sharing a lot in tag games!). It kind of gives a basis of what Fane can sometimes do when he's not thinking or if he doesn't talk to Solas.

***

“F..Fane..!”, Solas growled out, a surge of heat invading his head as he felt his dragon’s dormant fury within his soul. It was thrashing, knocking, pounding against the confines of their link, wishing to be set free through him and his actions.

“This is..ugh..important, dammit!”, Fane grunted out as Solas was finally starting to push back, as well as his own minor discomfort with the magic that was slowly building around them.

“Then..ngh..speak of it!”, Solas snapped, feeling something like a pinch against his mind before that sensation ricoheted outwards, a lesser burst of magic managing to separate their bodies, but not their tethered souls. “Hiding in your mind only inflicts more harm!”, he almost yelled, his mind clouding with unusual rage. He was never ruffled this easily, but this wasn’t him, was it?

No, this was Fane, or more accurately, Fane’s mind. And it was red hot with fury.

He watched with slightly haggard breathing as Fane slid back a few feet, a grimace on his face from the smell of ozone, but shook it off easily. Now fully golden eyes glared with steamy ferocity upon him, a broad chest heaving with Veil born ire and excitement at finally having a challenge. Solas straightened himself a bit, clearing his throat as the distance between their bodies allowed him to think a bit more clearly, but he could still feel the thread that connected them intensely.

“Ma’isenatha, please--”, Solas attempted to reach the unhinged being before him, even as he could feel his own mind beginning to cloud again as Fane stalked towards him. They needed to cease this dance before one of them got hurt or insanely ill!

“Quit…”, the fuming dragon began before whipping the staff in his hand around in a near perfect arc towards him. “..talking!”, he snarled furiously, deftly hitting the other end of the staff with his wrist to cut off its intended path for a shorter route.

Solas was a bit curious by the adept usage, but shuffled that thought away quickly to block the blow that was inevitably aimed for his jaw. Now wasn’t the time to ruminate! As much as he loathed to admit it, and encourage it, there was only one way out of this foolish scenario!

“Enough!”, a cry harboring necessary command releasing from his lips, making the link between them snap like a bowstring. “Ngh..!” The heady, harsh sensation had the air leaving his lungs before he swept one end of his staff upwards without volition, missing his mark by a hair. He blinked when the sensation eased off, grimacing as he stared at the staff poised just next to Fane’s face, precisely at the point where his scar was. How ironic, but he knew what was happening now with that.

The involuntary reaction had been too planned, too memory bound. It was like when they had viciously fought as Haven burned with fire and corruption, and he had had no choice but to wound the otherwise perfect face before him - a deep scar left on his left cheek from his staff blade. His arms had been wrapped, then strung up in invisible bonds that radiated desperate heat and furious rage, guiding them to repeat the action due to a desire for something unsaid.

In simple terms, he was being controlled by emotions alone - emotions that were not his own.

“Interesting.”, Solas said, but narrowed his eyes upon the fierce man. “Emotions are your strings.”, he pointed out, more realization dawning on him as to where all these minor outbursts, sudden movements, and disorienting sensations were coming from. Fane..

...was manipulating emotions, guiding them to the destination he desired.

Fane’s eyes narrowed, emerald reappearing to deepen with rage as tufts of his hair fluttered from the air behind his swipe. “I’m intervening.”, the draconic side of his love coming out in full bloom now.

“Why?” He issued it as more a command than a true question. He was mildly miffed by this usage of abilities, but he needed context to decipher why Fane had thought this was necessary. It was unusual and worrying for him to use them like this.

“It’s necessary.”, Fane said with a flat tone, but there was fire crackling beneath its supposed embers, as well as the deep emerald gaze bearing down upon him before he twisted his staff upwards to once again aim under his chin. Solas dodged the movement by an inch, feeling the amount of force behind it with air alone.

His dragon was steadily losing his control, and it wouldn’t be long until he was truly unhinged.

“Fane!”, Solas met the glare with one that felt just as furious as he called out, but finally began to retaliate, no longer wishing to play on the defensive and draw this out longer. “Very well..”, he said lowly, gripping the staff tightly as he pressed in harder, matching Fane’s footwork step for step as their blows connected with near splintering cracks. “...if you are so..”, a harsh crack of their staves reverberating through the air. “...intent on not speaking of what troubles you, then I will make it so you have no choice but to!”

A long, muscled leg nearly knocked into one of his knees as it swept under him, its pace incredibly fast for something intended to withstand punishment. It was like a dragon’s tail as it swept aside massive boulders, and uprooted century old trees.

Fane let out a gasping laugh. “You’re still..ngh..t..talking?!”, he roared, snowy brows furrowed in growing pain as sweat began to form along a lightly flushed temple, hand trembling where it nearly snapped his staff in half.

“I am doing what you refuse to do!” A jab with his staff nearly connected with a muscled arm, but it went through the gap between itself and the toned body it was attached to. “Gh..!”, he winced as he felt a sharp yank on his mind, as well as the staff in his hands as Fane grabbed a hold of it to pull him forward harshly.

The world halted suddenly, its furious, heated pace slightly cooled as their gazes connected, all sound flushing out to where the only sound was their combined, harsh breathing. Emerald and gold swam, ebbed around each other like a phylactery did with its magical blood as the face that bore them was lax in stunned silence, sweat trickling down flush cheeks before it would disappear along a strong neck. Solas felt his face was no better, feeling how droplets of sweat rolled down the sides of his face and how his mouth was slightly agape as he fought for a shred of breath.

What was...going on? This feeling, like their desires were coalescing, taking shape before them like spirits shaped the Fade around them...it was intoxicating, comforting, and serene amid the furious battle they had been engaged in moments before. Their link was still there, but it was soft, velvet against his mind as the gentle essence wrapped around it in an embrace.

It was no longer painted...red.

“Hnn..”, Solas let out a quiet sigh, breath hitching after as the blanket around him became warmer, silken. When had it shifted? He hadn’t been aware because of rage painting the world before him in crimson..

“Too...much..”, he heard Fane whisper out between pants, but it was more to himself than to Solas. “...You shouldn’t feel that like I do.. Shit..”

Solas blinked a bit to reorient himself, the softness of his mind making it hard to think before he saw Fane’s face near inches from his, the hand that had grabbed his staff now making itself known upon the back of his neck, steadying him. When had that gotten there?

“What..”, Solas started, closing his eyes for a moment as the world spun for a second before reopening to try again. “What..was that?”

“My mind.”, Fane muttered, eyes flitting across his face worriedly. “I didn’t think..”, he trailed off with a light growl as brilliant eyes turned downcast. “I fucked up… I’m sorry...”

***

So, yeah. It doesn't take Solas long to forgive Fane, but when he first demonstrates just how dangerous his abilities can be and actively uses them to manipulate our wolf gets a little miffed. Solas wants Fane to use his voice more, and these are moments in which Fane doesn't and taps into that warped perception of himself; the one that got him killed.

#oc asks #asks #oc: fane lavellan #solas #solavellan #dragon age #sorry for how insanely long this is!#i just have so much nuanced crap for these two that I get carried away XD #and forgive if the excerpt is a bit...sloppy. it's still a wip! :3 #there's also a lot of stuff that i'm just playing with in regards to Fane and Solas but i know the basis of how they operate X3 #thank you again! <3

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yandere-wishes · 4 years

Text

Secret Admirer //Twisted Wonderland Yandere! Idia Shroud X Reader//

My first attempted at a song fic! This story is based off a Persian song called “Bade Man”. Both the song and Video show a lot of yandere tendencies so I decided to write two stories based off them. If you do decide to watch it please note that there is mention of suicide (Which I didn’t add in my own story) and stalker behavior (Which there is a lot of in this fic). Other then that please enjoy the story!

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Idia's hand shook, sweat racing down his brow as he tried to accurately insert the miniature spy cam into the teddy bear's golden orb. Pushing the tiny device further in so it would remain anonymous. The little camera buzzed and glitched trying to come online and focus.

Idia stretched his arm up trying to place the stuffed animal back on the top shelf where he had found it. Maneuvered it, checking the angle on his phone trying to find the perfect spot. Finally, at a position of 5 cm to the left, he had achieved the absolute angle, providing him with a view of your entire dorm room. The underworld god let out a sad sigh, he turned on his heels, habitually placing his fingers on his hips, digging his long chipped nails into the bulky fabric of his black sweater. Observing the room for a final time he gradually made his way to the door, mentally reminding himself to use the duplicate key to lock the door. Four steps from the door and he stopped, turning his head to look at something he'd spotted from the corner of his eye. There one shelf under where he'd set up the bear was a forgotten chocolate eyeball. His fingers twitched, trying to fight off the urges to grab it. You surely wouldn't notice if it was eaten, would you? You didn't have the most attentive mind nor the sharpest deduction skills. His long pale fingers slowly stretched to meet the sugary treat...

The blue screens were the only source of light in the pitch-black room. Their luminosity casted an eerie shadow over Idia's face. The flame-haired boy's eyes were glued to the screen, wait for you to return from your classes. He subconsciously reached for another piece of candy from the glass jar, mindlessly discarding the wrapper into the pile around his computers. He gazed at the time displayed on the corner of the screen.

3:30 pm

classes finished fifteen minutes ago, so where were you? What was taking so long? No doubt those two Heartslabyul first years were keeping you busy once more. They were always circling you, always touching you in some form, they were like buzzards..worst actually.

3:32 pm

you finally pried open the worn-out door to your so-called "dormitory" walking inside, flinching each time you stepped on a creaky part of the floor. Behind the tiny cat-like terror skipped in. A large toothy grin danced across his furry face. He was going on about the A+ he'd gotten in the Alchemy test.

For a brief minute Idia's mind wondered to that very test, he was sure he had taken it. He sighed, the school was so troublesome and distracting, he'd just ask Ortho to retrieve his test later on.

His attention floated back to you, his darling, his beloved...who he would continue to admire from afar. You carelessly discarded your school backpack and uniform coat onto the broken couch and headed for the kitchen. Idia leaned closer eyes soaking in every microscopic aspect of your body. Giggling slightly as he watched you peer into the fridge, hanging off the handle of the door and pouting at the lack of content in the fridge. Without looking he plucked his phone from the table and typed a reminder to get Ortho to buy you some groceries.

You finally picked two eggs and some olive oil. Casually making your way to the stove, calling over your shoulder for Grim to set the table. You grabbed the lighter form the island and flicked it, trying to start a flame.

Idia tensed, his eyes grew as big as the Heartslabyul mushroom saucers. He remembers passing by the kitchen, he remembers sparks from his hair landing on the stove. Initially, he'd disregarded them, believing they would become completely dormant by the next day. He hadn't thought that you would be making dinner. His heart skipped a beat, the tiny embers were sitting there, ready to ignite at the smallest heat.

His fingers frantically tapped at one of the screens, calling yourself hoping it would be a worthy distraction. His heart sank as he watched the dreaded cat pick up your cellphone. He ignored it pressing the hang-up option.

His golden eyes flew back to the screen displaying your actions. He nervously shoved another two bonbons into his mouth. He ran a hand over his face, sighing trying to come up with something to do before his precious caught on fire.

"Think, Think, Think, Think," his pale finger stabbed his forehead, do something! his thoughts screamed. Apahthcaly he cracked open an eye. He watched uselessly as you brought the lighter to the oven.

There was a spark, blue flames spread along the surface of the oven like waves. You squealed and jumped back eyes gawking at the flames. They were familiar somehow...

"What happened!"

The cat's screechy voice caused Idia to flinch, subconsciously his hand dove back into the bowl pulling out a handful of the wrapped goodies.

The look on your face was one that tore Idia's heart into pieces, yet at the same time caused it to speed up tremendously. You hadn't moved an inch, eyes still wide and gawking at where the fire had been minutes ago. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, breaths shaky and uneven. "T-the ghosts m-might be...playing some pranks again, yeah that's it! It was those ghosts!.... Ah!..(y-y/n) what.. what are..." Grim's voice trailed off, his gem-like eyes darted to (Y/N) after witnessing her sudden movement. She chucked the lighter at the stove, her hands balling into tight fists. She closed her eyes permitting tiny teardrops to race down her cheeks.

"Can't I do any freaking thing right?" This was loudest Idia had ever heard (Y/N) raise her voice, though reasonably this was the angriest he'd ever seen her. Why was she so irritated over a small slip up? Was there something else weighing on your nervous that Idia had failed to notice? His golden eyes went back to monitoring your posture, recalling if you'd seemed off the couple of times he'd seen you in class or the hallways. His mind kept drawing blanks, you were always so cheerful and happy every time he laid eyes on you. Was there some subtle hint he was missing? Where you maybe as cursed as he was? The thought was unsettling and quite heavy on his broken heart. You didn't deserve to be cursed as he and his lineage where, you were too innocent, too pure...but alas you may very well be cursed just as he was, after all, you had the misfortune of traversing into this accursed world in addition to having caught his eye.

After what felt like decades, your posture finally eased, the sniffling and flow of tears halted. You rose your head looking down at Grimm, a frail smile grazed your lips. "There's tuna in the fridge if you're hungry...." saying no more, you turned on your heels and trudged towards the doorless doorframe. "But, aren't you hungry?" the cat called after your concern laced his usually haughty voice. Idia could feel a nervous tik coming on, a cold wet substance fill is eyeball as it twitched uncontrollably. "Eat something dame it" he whispered to the girl on the screen. Taking his own advice he unwrapped another piece of candy and popped it in his mouth. He watched helplessly as you merely shook your head, continuing to march upstairs. Floorboards creaking from your weight.

Idia threw his back, palms pushing over his cheeks, resing on his closed eyelids and applying apathetic pressure. He groaned loudly, watching you was consuming more time then he'd initially planned. The cameras where set so he could keep tabs on you, not to watch your disheartening days in the ramshackle dorm. Yet it proved to become an addiction rapidly. It was remarkably melancholic, the two of you were both leading your respective blighted lives waiting impatiently for some inconceivable miracle to rescue you. You could save eachother...but nither of you knew how. Thus you remain oblivious to his presence and he had to content himself with observing you from afar. This whole situation was much more tragic than anyone of the Greek tragedies he's read as a child.

By now, the sun had dipped behind the large school, disappearing from view for the night. Idia's once dark room had fallen into the color of the abyss engulfing him in endless darkness. However that notion seemed to escape the fire-haired third year as he remains immobile at his desk, orbs stilled glued to the blindingly bright lights of the multiple screens displaying different angles of the Ramshackle dorm. The object of his infatuation was changing out of their uniform tossing the blouse and skirt onto the bed as the grabbed an oversized T-shirt and some pajama shorts. Their footsteps echoed around the vacant room as they walked up to the shelf. Idia gulped fingers diligently shoving two tiny chocolates into his mouth. He watched as you reached up to grab the stuffed bear. Idia's sweaty palms covered his mouth, nails digging into the flesh of his cheek. He watched as you dropped the bear and let out a blood-curdling scream...

You missed your home, your real home. You missed the nostalgic scent of your mother's perfume and your father's aftershave. Lately, the thought of your home had become a crushing force on your mind. You wanted nothing more than to head back home, then to sleep on your old bed, talk to your old friends, to just bask in the feeling of your old house. But Crowley still hadn't found a way for you to return. The headmaster did try but with the constant troubles caused by the other students, he just couldn't focus. Letting out a depressed sigh you walked over to the decaying shelf in the further corner of your room. On top of that shelf sat an old Teddy Bear, it resembled one you had back home. Who would have ever thought you'd find the very same toy in this twisted world. Retrieving the stuffed animal from the shelf, you smiled at its stoic face, playfully you moved it around watching your reflection from different angles in its golden eyes. As the right eye remains in place, the left eye kept seemingly following you, curiously you tapped the eye. The golden ord whizzed stretching out while spinning trying to get a better look at your face. A camera! There was a camera placed in the bear's eye! You dropped the stuffy, shakingly stepping away from the spying bear. A loud high pitch noise echoed in your ears, making your heartthrob. It took an endless moment before you realized that it was, in fact, yourself who was making the dreadful noise. Your hands covered your mouth trying to stop the sound, you gulped as your eyes filled with tears.

You back hit the wall, having nowhere else to go you sunk down wrapping your arms around your shins, goosebumps ran across your skin, spiking your flesh causing a cold sweat to break over your body. Someone was watching you...Someone had been watching for god knows how long.

"(Y/N)!" Grimm's panicked voice barely reached your ringing ears. You remained curled in your tight ball. The cat-like monster ran over to you, pawing at your arm trying to get you to talk. "What happened? Why did you scream!" His pitchfork like tail wrapped around his tiny body. Hesitantly you pointed to the tumbled over bear. Your voice cracked as you tired to speak "C-camera...there's a camera in the b-bear's e-eye." Grimm's eyes widen as he ran over to the spycam to investigate.

Idia watched as the tiny cat hoisted up the bear, clawing at the eye camera. The blue screens glitched for a second, the went back to broadcasting the room. Idia turned the deal on one of his speakers trying to better hear what Grimm was whispering to you. "Someone was in the house" the cat mumbled into your ear. "I had candy on the third shelf and now only the wrappers are left". The cat's words only caused you to sob harder, your mind being overtaken by panic to such extents that you could hardly move. The grey monster shook your numb hand trying to get a reaction out of you. "We...we need to call the headmaster..." at Grimm's words you banged your head against the wall, fresh tears flowing from your eyes. Slowly you nodded, "On the count of three, run like all hell for the front door...we don't know if there are any other cameras, it'll..it..it'll just be safer to go to his office.." Using the wall for support you stood up, eyes never once leaving the bear. You took a final shakey breath...

"one.."

Idia's eyes widen, you weren't serious where you?

"Two.."

A lone tear rolled from his eye...no please no

"Three!"

Idia watched helplessly as you and Grimm ran down the stairs, disappearing out the front door.

Nervously Idia turned off the screens. His heart pounded so hard that he was sure it would crack his rips and burst right out. He had lost you...he had tried to keep an eye on you, to be with you in the only way he knew how..and that had caused you to run away...Anger bubbled in his veins, his fingers twitched as he stood up "DAME IT" his voice sounded throughout the Ignihyde dorm, causing the rest of the students to stop whatever they were doing and listen to the rare sound coming from their dorm leaders room.

Sinking down to the floor, Idia let the tears roll out from his eyes, his throat burned as he let out another frantic scream. How could he have been so stupid? So useless?

"Big brother?" Ortho's curious voice caused Idia to cease his screaming, reluctantly he turned his head to look at his little brother. Ortho walked over to him, kneeling down in front of him. His large golden eyes scanned the turned over chair and broken candy jar. "I-I lost her..." Idia's voice trailed off as he leaned his head on Ortho's metal shoulder. His posture sunk into his brother's cold hands. "I-I" his tears kept coming, trailing down his cheeks. Calmly Ortho wiped the teardrops from his creator's face. Bloodshot golden eyes met sympathetic golden eyes. "Big brother...why do you do this to yourself? If you really love her you should go see her in person.."

The younger Shroud's words tugged on his brother's heartstrings. The cursed older brother reluctantly pressed his face to his creations chest and mumbled: "I...I really should".

In the unholy hour of midnight, Idia found himself, leaning against a tree in the Ramshackle front yard. His golden eyes watched as his darling frantically tried to explain to the mask-wearing headmaster what had happened hours prior. His shaky legs dragged the God of the dead to a tombstone that was closer to the window. Crunching by the marker Idia lolled in the sound of his beloved's voice. Silently he whispered a promise to himself.

"One day I will make you mine my love...one day very soon"

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dindjarindiaries · 4 years

Text

Thunder - Chapter 7: Lightning

gif via @pascalplease

summary: The group goes on a weekend getaway before they ship themselves off for training and service, completely unaware of the storm that still brews over Frankie and Luciana—which only grows stronger.

warnings: some angst, fluff, soft smut (*gasp*)

rating: M

word count: 6.793k

masterlist

chapter 7: lightning

Frankie never imagined he could have a life so full of sweet torture.

The weeks following graduation and the beginning of his and Luciana’s romantic relationship were full of nothing but close calls, stolen kisses, and lots of secret dates. Frankie came to realize how much more beautiful the view of the stars was from the roof when the silhouette of Luciana on top of him contrasted against them, and Luciana came to appreciate the fact that Frankie’s truck had a continuous seat that allowed for her to be laid back completely against it in the heat of any moment. The day they snuck off to the dive and were caught sharing shakes with their hands folded together over the table, Frankie thought Marlena was going to have a heart attack.

“Are my contacts messed up, or am I seeing this right?” she’d asked when she came over to the table, nearly spilling the drinks in her shock.

Frankie and Luciana had both laughed with pink cheeks. “No, your vision’s alright,” Frankie had assured her, giving his confidante a warm smile that only grew once he met Luciana’s gaze again. He’d also given her hand a squeeze that caused a bright light to flicker in her dark eyes.

“But it’s, you know…” Luciana had trailed off and used her free hand to place a finger over her lips, informing Marlena that things were being kept low-key. She’d nodded in understanding and flashed the couple a wink, simply setting down the drinks and smiling before she’d left them alone again.

But the honeymoon phase is now quickly coming to a close. Frankie can sense it when he and Luciana are alone, a tension growing between them that’s full of unspoken desperation. Frankie’s due to leave for training as a pilot with the Delta Force in a week, which means months upon months of never getting to see Luciana. In the meantime, she’ll be starting a temp job to save up for opening her own business someday. The reality of life is harsh and unrelenting, leaving the couple uncertain as to how they’ll maintain the beautiful relationship they’ve started to nurture and have yearned much too long for.

This doesn’t include how exhausting it is to keep everything a secret. Thankfully, the boys haven’t suspected a thing—even Santiago, which is the biggest relief—but Frankie and Luciana being trapped in the same house with rooms just down the hall from each other has been so torturous that Frankie finds himself tossing and turning more often at night than he’d like, dreaming of the moment when they can be together in all the ways they want to.

Going on a weekend trip with everyone only makes Frankie dread this feeling more.

The group decided to venture on the true last hoorah before they all would leave for the Delta Force, renting out a large space for the weekend at the local lake. The plot of land included a two-story main house with enough room for everyone, but also a guesthouse that followed down a trail into the nearby woods. The boys figured it could be of use in case Will and Benny threatened to kill each other—though Frankie had other thoughts for it. But even he knew he wouldn’t risk it while being so close to the guys and Santiago.

Frankie thinks of this while he looks upon the site from the house’s back porch, letting out a soft breath as his forearms lean against the wooden railing. From here, he can see that trail leading into the woods, along with the lake that spreads out wide ahead of him. A gentle breeze tugs at the curls of hair around his ears and on the back of his neck, and he readjusts his hat in hopes of refocusing himself. He knows the day ahead will be full of good quality time with the group, which—though it makes him extremely happy—also means he’ll have to act as normal as possible around his girlfriend. Frankie wouldn’t be so worried if swimming wasn’t on the list.

The simple thought of seeing Luciana in a bathing suit was enough to make him want to spiral out of control.

Frankie blinks a few times and gives his head a shake, standing back up from where he’s been leaning as he hears footsteps behind him. He sees Will carrying a cooler and pausing to look at Frankie with a gesture of his hand towards a similar-looking one off to the side. “Hey Fish, mind bringing that one down with you to the dock?” Will asks. Frankie nods without hesitation, grateful for the distraction as he picks up the cooler loaded with drinks and follows Will down the stone-filled path to the dock. Thankfully, Frankie’s already fit himself in his essentials for a day spent down by the lake, one of his usual t-shirts paired simply with his swim shorts as his sunglasses help his hat in shielding his eyes from the sun.

Down at the dock, there’s a few Adirondack-style chairs along with a table. There’s a part of the dock that extends further into the lake, making it ideal for anyone crazy enough to jump off it. Frankie smiles a bit at the sight, always having been a fan of lakesides and the fun that comes with it. It’s slightly nostalgic, since he fondly remembers him and his parents traveling up to a lakehouse his uncle had owned, but it only makes him happier to be sharing this weekend with his newer family.

Frankie puts the cooler down next to where Will’s dropped his by the table. When Will already helps himself to a beer from inside, he offers one up to Frankie, who doesn’t decline as he settles into one of the chairs and takes a sip. He thinks, as he looks out at the lake and draws another sip from his bottle, that he might just be able to clear his mind and relax. But then the rest of the group joins them, arriving in a four-person clump that Frankie tries to resist staring at. Once they come into sight, though, he’s temporarily relieved of the view that could give something away, as Luciana’s hidden it within one of her favorite large t-shirts. Still, he takes another sip of his beer to hide anything he might be displaying unknowingly on his expression, trying to ignore the way he can practically feel Luciana’s gaze burning through him.

“Damn, it’s hot out here,” Benny comments, already sliding off his t-shirt and looking as if he’s about to jump headfirst into the water.

“Hold on, hot shit,” Luciana stops him, chuckling a bit as she presses a hand against his chest. She takes a bottle of sunscreen out of the bag that hangs from her shoulder. “Safety first.”

Benny sighs, taking the bottle from Luciana while trying hard to hide a smile. “Alright, alright.” He laughs to himself as he starts to apply it. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was Fish trying to parent me, not you.”

Luciana shrugs, looking over at Frankie with a sly smile. “Maybe I’ve picked up a few things.”

“Jesus,” Santiago mutters playfully. “We need to stop letting you two spend so much time together. We can’t have two parents around here.”

Frankie chuckles nervously and tips his hat, hoping he can hide his face for a moment as he looks down at the beer resting against his thigh. “It’ll make you safer,” Luciana insists. “All of you. You’re too chaotic for your own goods.”

“And we’ve made it this far, haven’t we?” Benny jokes as he finishes with the sunscreen, tossing it back to Luciana who’s since placed her bag down by another one of the chairs. She catches it swiftly, resting it on the arm of the chair as she shakes her head with a soft laugh. Frankie looks back up at her and feels thankful for the sunglasses that hide his admiring gaze. He can’t stop studying the way her brown eyes sparkle into a golden color in the sun’s lighting, the freckles on her cheeks that he adores so much becoming as prominent as ever. Her dark, wavy hair falls around her shoulders and flows gently with the wind. It looks so soft and Frankie knows it feels even softer. He wishes for nothing more than to run his fingers through it like he loves to.

Frankie can’t believe she’s his—but he also can’t believe that he doesn’t even get to show it.

He thinks he can deal with it at the moment, though he knows that’s bound to change very soon. As the boys prepare themselves to join Benny in the lake, they take their rounds with the sunscreen, but Frankie remains glued to his chair and sips his beer. He watches more closely when Santiago becomes the next one to possess it, reaching everywhere he can before turning to his sister. “Luci,” he calls for her, shaking the bottle in his hand once he catches her attention. “Can you get my back?”

“Yeah,” Luciana agrees, walking over to her brother and taking the bottle from him. Frankie’s distracted for a moment as he hears a splashing sound from further down the dock, and he watches as the two brothers dive in followed by Tom. Frankie tuts to himself, knowing they hadn’t let their sunscreen soak in for nearly half the time they’re supposed to.

“What about you, Fish?” Benny calls to him from the water.

Frankie shakes his head and holds up his bottle. “Can’t let this get warm!” Frankie exclaims back to him. “Plus, I gotta soak in the sun some more. I’m not hot enough yet.”

“It’s like fuckin’ ninety degrees out here!” Benny retorts. “That’s not hot enough for you?” Frankie laughs and simply shrugs in response.

“Relax, Benny,” Will scolds his brother. “He’s Cat-fish. He’ll come in on his own time.”

Frankie lifts his beer to his lips again. “Roger that,” he calls out to them, finally easing Benny for the moment.

His attention draws back to his girlfriend when he hears her brother go on. “Let me help you,” Santiago’s saying, and Frankie looks back to them just in time to see Luciana nod. She crosses her arms to grab the hem of her t-shirt with both hands at once, pulling it over her head in one swift movement. She’s wearing a two-piece suit that’s salmon-colored—which contrasts perfectly with her tanned skin—and is styled with a classic string top and cheeky bottoms. It’s displaying those same assets Frankie had gotten to see that night at the bar, but so much more of them.

Frankie swallows hard. Damn.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen Luciana in a swimsuit before; it’s just different now that Frankie’s with her, knowing that in any other circumstance, he could have the honor of running his hands or even his lips over every curve he’s seeing. Frankie had always wanted to respect her before, and he still does—but now that he has the knowledge of Luciana particularly liking when his gaze admires her in such a way, Frankie’s not afraid to do so anymore.

At least, whenever her brother isn’t watching over her like a goddamn hawk.

Frankie makes himself look away while Santiago applies the sunscreen to his sister’s back, not really wanting to witness the sight and knowing he’ll just wish he could’ve done it himself. He finishes off the rest of his beer but pretends there’s still some in it for the sake of avoiding jumping into the lake just yet. He only looks away from his bottle when he hears Santiago running to jump off the dock—also seeming to forget that his sunscreen’s freshly applied—and sees Luciana finishing the rest just a few steps away from his chair.

Frankie’s gaze studies each movement of her hand upon her skin, rubbing at her arms, and then her legs, and then her stomach, and then her neck and chest. He watches as her fingers take their time rubbing it in, making sure it gets into every necessary nook of her collarbones and then closer to her cleavage. His fingers subconsciously grip the edge of the chair’s arm tighter. Frankie sees her gaze meet his as it flickers with amusement and shared desire.

“Something wrong, Flyboy?” Luciana prompts, making a point to slowly run her fingers back up from the middle of her chest to her neck.

Frankie clenches his jaw before he releases a curt sigh. “Nope,” he answers, clearing his throat as he catches the singular drop of beer that’s left in his bottle. “Everything’s fine over here.”

“Looks like it.”

Frankie watches Luciana’s gaze observe him quickly yet pleasantly, and he shakes his head with a playful roll of his eyes. He looks to the water to see the boys thoroughly distracted with trying to dunk each other under the water and see who can last the longest, and so he drops his voice low as he speaks to her again. “You know, you’re not making this any easier.”

Luciana shrugs nonchalantly, tossing the sunscreen bottle between her hands as she stares him down. “Maybe I’m not trying to.” She smiles slyly as Frankie’s fingers grip the arm of the chair again, both in nervousness and in frustration. He knows that if she acts up any more than this, he’ll break. “Need some help with your sunscreen?” She shakes the bottle at him.

Frankie knows this is a bad idea. He knows that the moment he feels her hands on him, he could absolutely lose his cool—but he also knows that he’s always been a calm man, and he can maintain that if he fights hard enough. He won’t let Luciana win this little game of hers. So, he nods, standing up and setting his hat and sunglasses on the chair as his shirt joins them next. When he faces Luciana again, he sees her eyeing him with her teeth grazing her lower lip. He nearly growls and pulls her to him on the spot, but once again, he reminds himself to have self-control. She meets his gaze and continues to attempt biting back a smile.

“What a hottie,” Luciana comments playfully yet truthfully, walking around him to work on his back. Her voice comes from next to his ear when she continues. “Whoever gets to date you must be pretty damn lucky.”

“Yeah, she is,” Frankie remarks, attempting to keep a smirk off his face as he now faces the boys who are still playing further off in the water. When he feels Luciana’s hands on him, he can tell she’s moving them in a manner that’s unnecessary to the actual application of the sunscreen, and he grits his teeth before he adds something else. “And she’s about to get me in trouble.”

A light scoff comes from behind him. “Trouble?” Luciana’s hand that’s been rubbing into his shoulder quickly drifts off to give his upper arm a squeeze. “I think she likes trouble.”

Frankie swallows hard, attempting to compose himself until she’s finished her work. Once he’s sure that she’s done, he allows himself to get out a proper response. “Good—because now she’s about to get herself into trouble.” He turns around to face Luciana, seeing her staring up at him with a darkened gaze and a raised eyebrow.

“How so?” Her voice is soft as velvet and it makes Frankie wish more than anything that he could just whisk her away.

Instead, he takes the bottle from her hands and tosses it near her bag, grinning when he sees her shocked expression. “You’ll see.” He throws his arm around her waist to hoist her body over his shoulder, laughing as he hears her gasp in shock. She lets out a laugh with him once he starts to walk further down the dock, and her hands lightly beat against his back.

“Frankie! You asshole!” Luciana continues to laugh in sync with Frankie. “Put me down!”

Frankie doesn’t say anything as he walks closer and closer to the edge of the dock. “I thought you said you liked trouble.”

“Morales, I swear to God, if you’re throwing me in the water—.”

“You were being bad, García.” Frankie keeps his voice low enough for only them to hear, despite the fact that the boys are closer now—though still not in hearing range. “And you know what happens to girls when they haven’t been good?” Frankie moves his hands to grip both sides of her bare waist. “They get punished.”

Frankie gives the skin there a subtle squeeze that causes a breathless gasp to fall from Luciana’s lips, especially as he lifts her from his shoulder and tosses her off the dock in front of them. She disappears under the water a moment later, and Frankie laughs when the cheers of the boys ring out upon the sight. As soon as she surfaces, Frankie jumps in right beside her, hoping to catch her off guard with the larger splash as he surfaces with more laughter.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Frankie asks her when he catches his breath.

“Motherfucker!” Luciana curses, splashing Frankie with some of the lakewater despite the laughter that falls from her lips. She swims closer to him and lowers her voice so that she’s sure he’s the only one who hears the words she says next. “Say anything like that again, and I swear I’ll jump your bones right here, Morales.”

Frankie raises an eyebrow at her. “Is that a challenge?”

Luciana smirks at him. “It’s a promise.”

Frankie gives her a nod. “In that case, I’ll hold you to your word, ma’am.”

Luciana smiles and shakes her head before they both swim over to where the boys are still fooling around.

The group then continues to swim until they’ve exhausted themselves, engaging in random games of making the biggest splashes from the dock and intense chicken fights along the way. It’s dinnertime when the group finally hikes back up to the lakehouse, and after taking the time to wash themselves up, they have a cookout and eat upon paper plates at the table on the porch. The sun starts to set while they eat, not sinking too low at all but just enough to make the sky glow with stunning colors. They follow up dinner with a campfire and s’mores, but end up getting sent inside when a rumble of thunder sounds in the distance. They make it inside just in time when it starts to pour, finishing off the night with card games and beer before their exhaustion starts to get the best of them. Everyone heads to bed and decides to call it a night.

Except for Frankie. He’s in his room, sitting on the edge of his bed restlessly—his thoughts laying with the woman whose own room is right down the hall.

He keeps replaying the scene from today over and over in his head. Being around Luciana for so long today, watching her laugh and admiring her various looks and seeing the warmth and love she holds for him in her eyes without being able to say anything or touch her or kiss her drove him absolutely insane. Now, all he can think about is having that opportunity back. He fantasizes about his fingers gliding over her smooth, tanned skin, his lips following them as he proves just how much she means to him.

They haven’t gotten to engage in an activity like that just yet. Frankie’s always put a stop to it whenever they’ve come close. He knows that once they cross that line, it’s truly over for them—they’ll be completely tied to one another, and while that’s all Frankie could ever want, he’s afraid on her behalf. He doesn’t want to share something so beautiful with her and then abandon her a few days later. Frankie would never want to break her heart like that. At the same time, he’s yearning so badly for it that he’s not sure he can handle holding himself back anymore. But he doesn’t want it to happen somewhere quick and uncomfortable, like in his truck on one of their secretive dates. Frankie wants it to be on their own time with their own terms, where he can fully gaze upon her and she on him as they fully reveal just how deep their love goes.

Luciana must be thinking all the same things, because a few moments later, he hears his door open slowly. Frankie meets Luciana’s brown gaze that somehow glitters even in the darkness of the room. She looks to be just as restless as himself.

“Frankie,” Luciana whispers, keeping her voice extremely hushed in fear of waking anyone else up. She gestures with her head to the hallway. “Let’s go.”

Frankie furrows his brow. “Go?” he echoes her. “Where?”

Luciana points with her hand to the window beside Frankie’s bed. “The guesthouse.”

Frankie looks out the window and notices that it’s still storming—badly. He turns back to her with slight concern. “Luci, it’s pouring, and it’s a far walk. And what if someone wakes up?”

Luciana shakes her head. “No one will hear us above the storm.” As if on cue, a loud roll of thunder sounds, proving her point about the volume. “Plus, I’m sure there’s an umbrella somewhere around here.”

Frankie sighs, knowing this is his one opportunity to finally be alone with his girlfriend and maybe even get to talk over everything that’s on his mind. He gives in with a nod, slipping on the nearest pair of shoes and quietly following her out of his room. He closes it behind him in hopes of the boys thinking he’s still in there. Together, they tiptoe past the other bedrooms and down the stairs, relieved to go near the front door and spot a ceramic bucket full of umbrellas. Frankie takes one and readies it, letting Luciana open the door as he unfolds it and holds her close to him underneath it. They close the door behind him and try to hold in their chuckles as they hurry through the rain, following the path down to the guesthouse without causing a lot of noise.

Soon, they’re pushing into the front door of the guesthouse, releasing their laughs there as Frankie folds up the umbrella and closes the door behind them. He rests the now-soaked umbrella against the wall, taking a quick glance over the house. It has a log-cabin feel, fully furnished with a couch, tables, decorations, and a separate bedroom. There’s not much else Frankie’s able to observe before he feels Luciana’s hands on his face, desperately pulling it towards her as her mouth practically devours his own. Frankie returns her kiss with just as much passion, his hands gliding down to her waist and pulling her tight against him. They don’t dare to separate until they’re out of air, breathing in the same space as they pull apart yet remain close. Luciana’s gaze searches Frankie’s with nothing but sheer affection and desire.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” Luciana confesses, pressing another kiss upon his lips and pulling away to brush her nose against his.

Frankie hums in agreement. “You were making it real fuckin’ difficult to keep my hands off you,” he informs her, seeing her smirk before he hides his face in her neck. He places a series of open-mouthed kisses there that leave Luciana sighing with pleasure, hands burying into his thick hair as he licks and sucks at all the right spots. “Wearing that pretty little suit of yours…” Frankie trails off to tend more to one of her sweet spots, smiling against her heated skin when he draws a soft moan out from her, “... flaunting that beautiful body that drives me crazy. You knew what you were doing.” Frankie continues his work on her neck until he’s on the brink of leaving a mark, knowing it’s too risky to go through with it as badly as he wants to.

When Frankie rises back up to meet her face again, he receives a series of kisses along his jaw, making him swallow hard as Luciana begins to respond. “I would’ve let you take me right then and there, Frankie.” Her words ghost softly over the skin of his face, and Frankie never breaks his gaze with her as she faces him seriously. “I still would.” Luciana’s tone is gentle, as if she’s afraid that something louder will break the precious moment they’re in. She searches his gaze for a moment, and Frankie feels his chest tighten in anticipation as she goes on. “Frankie, is that something you’re okay with, or is there a reason you’ve been stopping whenever we’ve come close?”

Frankie releases a soft sigh, brushing a hand over the side of Luciana’s face continuously as he answers her. “I’d love that more than anything, Luce.” His tone matches her, hushed as if someone could overhear it. “I just… I was worried because, y’know, I’m leaving soon, and I didn’t want to make you feel as if I was just using you for a quick fuck before I went.”

Luciana’s brow furrows immediately as she holds his face between her hands. “I know you’d never do that, Frankie. Don’t worry.” She kisses him quickly, pressing her forehead against his afterwards. “I know that this is real. That’s why…” Luciana pauses, and Frankie feels one of her hands travel from his face down his chest and closer to his waistband, “... I want to do this. I want to be able to fully express it—with you. I want to feel this connection and hold on to the memory of it while you’re gone.” Her hand continues to go lower as her lips press against his ear. “I can’t hold back anymore. I need you, Frankie Morales.”

Frankie lets out a shaky breath at her words, wondering how he could’ve possibly been honored with being the man who gets to hear them uttered from her lips. Once her hand hooks on his waistband, Frankie grabs her wrist to stop her, pulling her mouth to his in a heated kiss. Luciana’s hands start digging into his hair and over his back while his drift over her ass, giving it a light squeeze just to feel her moan against him. He wastes no time picking her up so that she wraps her legs around his waist, easily navigating them to the bedroom he’d seen before. Though there’s no one else around, Frankie still closes the door behind them, letting only the pale moonlight hidden behind storm clouds light the room as he sets her back down against the bed. Luciana pulls his body against hers by grabbing the material of his shirt in her fists, instantly tugging at it to try to get it off. That becomes the first thing to go, and the next few minutes are a blur of things getting thrown around and kisses being left on lips, jaws, necks, and whatever else can be reached in the heat of the moment.

Once they’re skin-on-skin, Frankie feels the fire in him blazing brighter than ever before, the warmth spreading from his stomach to his chest as his heart thuds against the skin there. He practically loses his breath when Luciana rolls them over so that she’s straddling him, separating her face from his to take a look at his body. Frankie’s thankful for the darkness of the room as his cheeks redden in sudden embarrassment and insecurity. For a quick moment, he starts to wonder if she’s regretting this, regretting him. His mouth goes dry, and the longer Luciana stays silent with her gaze and fingertips brushing over his body, the more nervous he becomes. All he can hear is the soft panting of their breath and the rain that pours over the house.

“Frankie,” Luciana finally speaks, her tone breathless and thick with genuine emotion. She pauses to look in his eyes again, and even in the darkness of the room, Frankie can read her look perfectly. He sees all the admiration, love, and deep desire she has for him—and it melts his heart. Luciana’s hand brushes over his cheek as she smiles at him. “You’re so handsome. I’ve always thought that, but now that I really get to see it… I just can’t believe it. I’m so lucky.”

Frankie feels speechless for a moment, unable to believe that such an ethereal creature as Luciana would ever say something like that about him. He swallows hard, hands grabbing her waist as he flips them over again so that he’s hovering over her. Frankie’s hands trace over her curves, forming to them as if he’s known them forever. He bites back a smile at the sigh it draws from her lips. “You… You’re a masterpiece,” Frankie confesses honestly, his gaze meeting hers and drowning it with pure affection. “I noticed that from the day I met you. I always—well, I always thought you’d end up with someone who’s just as perfect as you are.”

Luciana reaches for one of Frankie’s hands, leaving a kiss on his palm. “I did.”

Frankie’s heart warms just as much as his stomach, now, and he can’t help smiling before he presses his lips to hers in another heated yet passionate kiss. Their hands can’t stop exploring each other and neither one of them could ever complain about it. They’re taking in each other’s forms, memorizing them, wanting to grab at them and feel them while they can—before it’s too late, when they’ll have to try to imagine them.

After a few moments of exploration, Frankie lets one of his hands go lower, hesitating to wordlessly ask for permission. Luciana’s hand pushes his further, and that becomes Frankie’s cue to go ahead with it. Frankie works her body like he’s always known it, hitting all the right spots that have her gasping and moaning and pleading into the heated skin of his neck. He can tell, though, that she’s trying to hold these sounds back—and that’s something he won’t have.

“Let it out,” Frankie murmurs into his ear, using his free hand to lift her face from his neck. “Let me hear you.” With his words, Frankie adds a new pressure that draws a soft cry from her lips, and he smirks pleasantly at the sound of it. “There you go, baby girl, that’s it. It’s just us out here. Be as loud as you can.”

And Luciana takes him up on that. That fire within Frankie continues to grow more and more as she pleads his name and writhes beneath his touch, and he realizes that even without his own contact—just by making the woman he loves feel so pleasured—he’s feeling something he never has before. He continually mumbles praises when she reaches her first high, stroking her cheek with his free hand as he does so. Her hands grip onto him for dear life and Frankie wouldn’t exchange her touch for anything. Frankie can tell she wants to return the favor for him somehow, but he shakes his head.

“Another time,” Frankie insists, his words breathless as he finds himself unable to wait any longer than he already has to feel her. “Right now, I need you.”

Luciana’s gaze sparkles up at him, and she nods as she brushes an admiring hand over his cheek. “Please, Frankie—,” she pauses as she pulls his lips to his, leaving a quick yet passionate kiss there, “—make love to me.”

Frankie doesn’t need anymore convincing. He entwines one of his hands with hers and keeps the other tight on her waist, pressing his forehead against her own as they finally start to make the connection that brings their love to a physical manifestation. As Frankie slowly eases into his first move, he draws a long, pleasured whimper from Luciana’s lips, causing him to hum as he presses a kiss upon the tip of her nose. “It’s alright, Luce,” Frankie whispers to her, his voice soft even as he grits his teeth to try to keep his own grunt hidden. “You’re alright. Just feel me—feel us.”

“I do,” Luciana breathes, her eyelids fluttering as she stares up at him. “I fucking feel you, Frankie.”

Frankie lets out a light chuckle that’s cut off by his own hiss when he moves again. He earns a similar sound from Luciana, only fueling him further as he moves in a steadier rhythm. Frankie squeezes her hand as they go on, his other hand steadying her as they continue moving together. It’s a feeling so heavenly yet so natural, as if they were made to be together like this. Frankie feels more confident than he ever has before and he swears he’s never felt so complete. His mind, his heart, and his body are all finally finding their matches in a single person, someone whose heart seems to beat to the same rhythm as his own. These thoughts hit Frankie all at once and he’s surprised he’s even able to conceive of them as his body rejoices in what he’s experiencing.

It’s when Frankie hears Luciana’s voice call for him that he finds himself losing any self-control he’d maintained before. “Frankie,” she pleads, as if asking for more. He doesn’t hesitate to give it to her—after all, he’d give her the world if he could.

As he complies with her request, Frankie speaks to her, having to swallow back any other sounds as he absorbs hers. “I love the way you say my name,” Frankie tells her behind gritted teeth, though his voice is full of nothing but admiration. “I love the way you sound. I love—,” Frankie cuts himself off with a groan that he releases into her neck, “—fuck, I love the way you feel. I love you. Shit, I love you so much, Luciana.”

Frankie has to stop himself because he’s coming too dangerously close to that point they can’t return from and there’s no more coherence left for either one of them. He earns a returned proclamation of love from Luciana along with his name when her moment comes, perfectly in time with a roll of thunder from outside as a flash of lightning shows Frankie a quick sight of them joining together, finally becoming one not just in mind and heart but also in body. It’s enough to bring him to a place he’s never gone before, a feeling higher than he could ever go in one of his planes or helicopters, and he swears he’s finally been able to take a star as he lets go and starts to relax in time with the love of his life.

They remain where they are for a few moments as their chests heave in the same, simultaneous rhythm, gazes never separating as they wordlessly appreciate everything they’ve just experienced. Frankie swears that Luciana’s eyes start to tear up, but he isn’t sure if it’s from pain or pleasure. He hopes that it’s the latter and that it’ll dissipate with time—but just in case, he lavishes her face with breathless and air-light kisses, hoping to earn a smile from her as he silently praises her for how she’d taken him.

Once they’ve recovered, Frankie lets himself rest beside her, burying them in the sheets as he pulls her body to his. Their legs tangle together in a desperate need to maintain some kind of contact, and Frankie runs one hand continuously through Luciana’s hair as she buries her face in his neck. He tries not to feel nervous at her silence, hoping it’s just her absorbing the intimate moment they’ve just shared. Frankie swears he’s never felt so connected to another person in his life, and he knows he’d give anything to make sure he never loses it—never loses her.

Suddenly, Frankie hears Luciana heaving a large breath, and he realizes what’s happening. He pulls her away from him so that she’s facing him again, and his heart shatters in his chest when he sees tears falling down her cheeks. Frankie grimaces as he holds her face delicately in his hands, thumbs attempting to brush the tears away as he searches her gaze. “Hey, baby, don’t cry,” Frankie coos gently, resting his forehead against hers. “What is it?” He prays he didn’t hurt her. He knows he wouldn’t forgive himself for it.

Luciana looks as if she can’t speak for a moment, and it makes a pit grow in Frankie’s stomach. He’s rarely ever seen her cry and so he knows that it takes a lot for that to happen. When her lip only trembles more and her eyes cloud with more tears, Frankie’s heart nearly flies through his chest with panic. Her hands thread delicately through his hair as she swallows back a sob. “Don’t leave me, Frankie,” Luciana finally manages, her voice unrecognizably broken and desperate as her eyes finally fall closed. A cry breaks through, and Frankie feels his entire body practically go numb with heartbreak as he pulls her to him again. She hides her face in his chest as he coos sweet nothings into her ear, stroking her hair and willing himself not to have a similar reaction as he works to comfort her.

“Shh,” Frankie mumbles, lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he continues to comfort her. “It’ll be alright, Luci. Take a deep breath.” Frankie feels her chest rise and fall against his own, and he smiles slightly at her effort as he presses a kiss into her hair. “There you go, baby. Just relax. I’m here.” Frankie only relaxes himself once he feels Luciana do the same, and when he’s certain that she’s calmed back down, he pulls her away to rest his forehead against hers again. His thumb strokes over her cheek as he goes on. “I know it’s gonna be hard, Luci, but we can do this. Alright? Think about it. We’ve waited a long fuckin’ time just to get to this point. We can do it again.”

Frankie earns a small smile and giggle from Luciana at that, and he smiles wider himself as he presses a gentle kiss upon her lips. When they break apart, Luciana nods, placing her hand over the one Frankie still has on her cheek. “I know. I just…” she pauses, gripping his hand tight as she looks longingly into his eyes, “... I love you so much, Frankie. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”

“You won’t be without me.” Frankie says the reassurance softly yet with confidence. “You’ll have these memories and the reassurance that I’ll be coming back to you later to finish this life and love of ours. And I wouldn’t be opposed to going old-school and getting some letters.”

Luciana chuckles. “I can write letters. I’ll address them to Flyboy.”

Frankie laughs, brushing his free hand through her hair as he keeps her close. “Perfect.” He then presses a kiss to her forehead. “Just like you.”

Luciana scoffs playfully and rolls her eyes. “How charming.” She presses another kiss to his lips. “By the way… I like it when you use ‘baby girl.’ Keep that habit up.”

Frankie smiles at her. “Noted.” He then invites her to relax into him again, leaving a kiss on her head once she’s nestled her head back into his neck. “Now rest, baby girl. Can’t let anybody know that we weren’t sleeping during these hours.”

Luciana giggles against the skin of his neck. “I’ve never had someone tire me out like this after just one round, Morales. Add that to your confidence checklist.” She presses a kiss to his neck when she hears him laugh in response. “Goodnight, babe. I love you.”

Frankie can’t help smiling yet again upon hearing the words, and he pulls her as close as possible as he closes his eyes in contentment. “I love you, too.”

In this moment, Frankie doesn’t give a damn who knows anymore. He would shout it to the whole world if he could. All he knows is that he’s found his other half in the woman who’s curled up into his side, and even though he’d tried to reassure her that everything would be okay, he knows his heart’s going to be ripped in half the moment he has to leave her.

next part: chapter 8: hail

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#oh my word #oh my wordddd!#babies!#my heart aches for them but also?#aw?#frankie morales #catfish morales #frankie morales fic #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #thunder fic #dindjarindiaries

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