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torchickentacos · 2 years

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you're a swiftie, right? pokeani characters as taylor swift lyrics? or ships?

Ok, I went with ships (though I could write an essay on why Drew's song would be The Archer and why Misty’s would be Who I’ve Always Been), and I tried to include all the ones I could think of, whether they're my thing or not! Little bit for everyone, you know?If anyone wants my reasoning and analysis of WHY I chose songs or lyrics PLEASE ENABLE ME. I am but a deer tick in the long grass waiting for an unsuspecting victim to brush past and enable autism mode for me. This is no order at all, just random tbh. I chose the most relevant lyrics. Sometimes that’s three lines. Sometimes it’s half the song. The more or less lyrics does not equate to my opinion on the ship, some just felt more fitting than others. I know I’m missing stuff, lmk if you want me to do one that isn’t here. Anyways, let's get into it! This is hella long by the way.

Appealshipping (Dawn x Zoey)- Seven (sapphic bop idgaf argue with the wall)

“Sweet tea in the summer, cross your heart, won’t tell no other”

“Your braids like a pattern, love you to the moon and to saturn

Passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long”

Gary x Tracey (Oakshipping? Is that it?)- Welcome Distraction (unreleased, on youtube)

Love’s a little messy and you are too, right now I’m scared of the both of you

-skipped lyrics-

You’re the last thing I needed today

And I don’t know where I lost control and couldn’t take it any longer,

It must have been somewhere between your smile and the way you say my name

And I can’t win, so I give in, the more I fight it just gets stronger

You’re an inconvenient kind of satisfaction, a welcome distraction

Gone and spilled my coffee trying to get to the phone, cause it might be you, you just never know

Can’t talk to my friends without you coming up, it’s even kinda cute the way you cuss

I wrote your name down a hundred thousand times, ‘cause it looks so good right next to mine

You’re the last thing I needed tonight

Palletshipping (Ash x Gary)- A few very good options but I settled on Paper Rings (almost chose King of my Heart though) (also almost chose Tim McGraw because of the lake imagery and lakes seem to be their thing, from what I’ve gathered from my mutuals)

The moon is high like your friends were the night that we first met

I went home and tried to stalk you on the internet

Now I’ve read all of the books beside your bed

The wine is cold, like the shoulder that I gave you in the street

Cat and Mouse for a month or two or three

Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe

Kiss me once because you know I’ve had a long night

Kiss me twice because it’s gonna be alright

Three times, cause I’ve waited my whole life

I like shiny things but I’d marry you with paper rings

Darlin’, you’re the one I want

And I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

You’re the one I want in paper rings, in picture frames, in all my dreams, you’re the one I want

Satogou (Ash x Goh)- It’s Nice to Have a Friend

School bell rings, walk me home

Sidewalk chalk covered in snow

Lost my gloves, you give me one

‘Wanna hang out?’ ‘Yeah, sounds like fun’

Video games, you pass me a note, sleeping in tents, it’s nice to have a friend

Light pink sky, up on the roof

Sun sinks down, no curfew

Twenty questions, we tell the truth

You been stressed out lately? Yeah, me too

Something gave you the nerve to touch my hand, it’s nice to have a friend

Church bells ring, carry me home

Rice on the ground looks like snow

Call my bluff, call you babe

Have my back? Yeah, everyday

Feels like home, stay in bed the whole weekend-it’s nice to have a friend

Shigegou (Gary x Goh)- Cowboy Like Me

“You asked me to dance, but I said ‘dancing is a dangerous game’

Oh, I thought, this is gonna be one of those things

Now I know I’m never gonna love again

I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve

Takes one to know one- you’re a cowboy like me

-skipped lines-

Now you hang from my lips like the gardens of babylon

With your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con

Shigesatogou (Ash x Gary x Goh)- Jump Then Fall

I like the way you sound in the morning, we’re on the phone and without a warning I realize your laugh is the best sound I have ever heard

I like the way I can’t keep my focus, I watch you talk, you didn’t notice

I hear the words, but all I can think is ‘we should be together’

Every time you smile, I smile and everytime you shine, I’ll shine for you

Woah, i’m feeling you, baby

Don’t be afraid to jump then fall, jump then fall into me

Baby, I’m never gonna leave you Say that you wanna be with me, too

‘Cause I’mma stay through it all, so jump then fall

A rarepair/crackship for you all (I think two of you like it and follow me? I can vibe with it ngl)- Farawayshipping (May x Paul)- Ours

Elevator buttons and morning air

Stranger’s silence makes me want to take the stairs

If you were here, we’d laugh about their vacant stares

But right now, my time is theirs

Seems like there’s always someone who dissaproves

They’ll judge us like they know about me and you

And the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do

The jury’s out, but my choice is you

So don’t you worry your pretty little mind, people throw rocks at things that shine and life makes love look hard

The stakes are high The water’s rough

But this love is ours

You never know what people have up their sleeves

Ghosts from your past gonna jump out at me?

-skipped lines-

And it’s not theirs to speculate if it’s wrong, and

Your hands are tough, but they are where mine belong

-skipped lines-

I love the gap between your teeth, and I love the riddles that you speak

And any snide remarks from my father about your tattoos will be ignored (you know Norman would HATE Paul)

Because my heart is yours

Pumpkinspiceshipping (Caroline x Delia)- Cornelia Street (specifically the Paris live acoustic though. Trust me.) (considered her cover of September by Earth, Wind, and Fire but that’s technically not a Taylor Swift song. Also people seem to hate that cover which makes me sad.)

We were in the backseat, drunk on something stronger than the drinks at the bar

‘I rent a place on Cornelia Street’, I say casually in the car

We were a fresh page on the desk, filling in the blanks as we go

As if the streetlights pointed in an arrowhead, leading us home

I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

I’d never walk Cornelia Street again

That’s the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

I’d never walk Cornelia Street again

And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name

And baby, I’m so terrified of if you ever walk away

I’d never walk Cornelia Street again

Windows flung right open, Autumn air, jacket ‘round my shoulders is yours

We bless the rains on Cornelia Street, memorize the creaks in the floors

-skipped lines-

You hold my hand on the street, walk me back to that apartment-years ago, we were just inside

Barefoot in the kitchen, sacred new beginnings that became my religion

Pokeshipping (Ash x Misty)- Invisible String

“Time, curious time, gives me the blues and then purple-pink skies

Were there clues I didn’t see?

And isn’t it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?”

Egoshipping (Misty x Gary)- Gorgeous

“You should take it as a compliment that I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk

You should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong

-skipped lines-

You’re so cool, it makes me hate you so much

-skipped lines-

And I’m so furious at you for making me feel this way, but what can I say? You’re gorgeous

You should take it as a compliment that I’m talking to everyone here but you

You should think about the consequence of you touching my hand in the darkened room

If you got a girlfriend, I’m jealous of her

But if you’re single, that’s honestly worse”

Ikarishipping (Paul x Dawn) (angsty. Sorry Ikarishippers who like fluff, but I don’t think there’s a ton of you here tbh so like we’re good) (I’m hella picky about Ikarishipping in general but this song fits imo. For a ship I don’t care for I have hella opinions on it apparently)

Are you really gonna talk about timing in times like these?

Let all your damage damage me? Carry your baggage up my street?

Make me your future history? It’s time

We’ve come a long way, open the blinds, let me see your face

You wouldn’t be the first renegade to need somebody

Is it insensitive for me to say, ‘get your shit together so I can love you’?

Is it really your anxiety that stops you from giving me everything, or do you just not want to?

I tapped on your window on your darkest night, the shape of you was jagged and weak

There was nowhere for me to stay, but I stayed anyway

You fire off missiles ‘cause you hate yourself, but do you know you’re demolishing me?

But then you squeeze my hand as I’m about to leave

And if I would have known how sharp the pieces were you’d crumbled into, I might have let them lay

Contestshipping- was stuck between like 15 songs because y’all know how I am about these two but I eventually landed on Treacherous. Almost chose Mine or Sparks Fly though. Still waiting for ethically sourced Speak Now.

Put your lips close to mine, as long as they don’t touch

Out of focus, eye to eye- until the gravity’s too much

And I’ll do anything you say if you say it with your hands- and I’d be smart to walk away, but you’re quicksand

This slope is treacherous

This path is reckless

This slope is treacherous-and I like it

I can’t decide if it’s a choice, getting swept away

I hear the sound of my own voice, asking you to stay

And all we are is skin and bone, trained to get along

Forever going with the flow, but you’re friction

-chorus-

Two headlights shine through the sleepless nights and I will get you alone-your name has echoed through my mind and I just think you should know that nothing safe is worth the drive

This hope is treacherous

This daydream is dangerous

This hope is treacherous

I like it

Ok ash/pokegirl ships are all down here since honestly except for my one pokeshipper friend I think most of you guys don’t care for these tbh highkey same but I can still appreciate and assign them a vibe. I don’t like cool ranch doritos but I’ll still eat them, you know?

Advanceshipping- I’d Lie (unreleased, which is a crime, it’s on youtube and better be on debut taylor’s version)

I don’t think that passenger seat has ever looked this good to me

He tells me about his night, and I count the colors in his eyes

He’ll never fall in love, he swears as he runs his fingers through his hair

I’m laughin’ cause I hope he’s wrong

And I don’t think it ever crossed his mind, he tells a joke, I fake a smile

-skipped-

He stands there then walks away, my god, if I could only say ‘I’m holding every breath for you’

Pearlshipping- Tim McGraw. Idk I don’t really get pearlshipping that much but I think the vibes are there with this song?????

He said the way my blue eyes shined put those georgia stars to shame that night

I said, ‘that’s a lie’

Just a boy in a chevy truck that had a tendency of getting stuck on backroads at night

And I was right there beside him, all summer long

Negaishipping- ‘Til Brad Pitt Comes Along (unreleased but I think it sums them up perfectly, even platonically)

Do you remember the day I leaned up against your car? And it started rolling down the street

You screamed and ran after it and tried to open the door and it ran over your foot and I was too busy laughing on the ground to see it

-skipped-

Do you remember the time we watched Carrie and you said it reminded you of me?

And I threw the remote at you and you said, ‘my point exactly’

-skipped-

You call me lucky ‘cause I lose everything, but I swear I’d be careful with it if you gave me a ring

Amourshipping, which. no comment-Your Anything

I could be your favorite blue jeans with the holes in the knees in the middle of the top drawer

I could be a little beauty queen, just a little out of reach, or the girl living next door

I’ll be your angel giving up her wings, if that’s what you need, I’ll give anything to be your anything

#ignoring the fact that 'you're a swiftie' is fighting words #/j #now tell me why I had fun analyzing ikarishipping for this #like I think it's a ship usually done poorly but there's some good fucking angst potential there #yall have no idea how many songs I had to whittle through to decide on contestshipping #SO MANY #I almost went with dancing wiht our hands tied #but figured that my interperetation of it for contest was too in-my-own-head #That song is actually what inspired morning after melancholy for me #I wrote that fic in like. three sittings over the span of ten hours with that song and so it oges on repeat #reputation is SO GOOD for when I want to lean into a more secretive relationship sort of thing #rep is one of my favorite albums of all time ngl #do I really want to tag all of these?#sigh i guess so #taylor's tag #appealshipping #oakshipping #hoping that's the right name for that and not a petalburgshipping situation because ick #palletshipping #shigegou #shigesatogou #farawayshipping #pumpkinspiceshipping #pokeshipping #egoshipping #ikarishipping #contestshipping #advanceshipping #pearlshipping #satogou

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rocorambles · 3 years

Text

Know Your Place

Pairing: Naoya x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Misogyny, Abuse, Rape/Non-Con, Humiliation, Degradation, Feet Stepping

Summary: You should have known better than to believe that Toji could protect you from the Zenin forever. Once a Zenin woman, always a Zenin woman and Naoya intends to make sure you fully understand that.

Growing up as a female in the Zenin clan means you’re always expected to serve, to look beautiful. Never speak unless requested to. Never look any of the men in the eyes. Obey. Be submissive and demure.

There are thousands of rules and dozens of leering eyes ready to punish you for a single minor infraction. So as much as you hate the life you’ve been born into, you know better than to act out and bring attention to yourself, knowing full well especially now as an adult woman that the price of transgressions are too high to pay.

You’d be incredibly fortunate for the usual heavy backhands Naobito and Ogi Zenin would grace your face with when you were still a minor, for the cruel condescending words Naoya would sneer at you. Those were child’s play compared to what’s in store for you now and you shudder when you remember the images of fellow female servants who had attempted to escape only to be easily captured, clothes stripped and body laid bare for the entire clan to see. You remember the fear that would make you tremble as the men howled in laughter and jeers as they took turns smacking their victim’s ass, pawing and groping her body. You remember sobbing when you were forced to watch as fists, cocks, objects that you thought were far too large were shoved between flailing legs.

But nothing keeps you in line more than the cold dread you’d feel heavy in your chest when you’d be forced to clean out the room of one of your ex-maids, preparing the room for the next poor soul born into a never ending life of servitude. As much as you hate this life, it’s still better than being tied up and forced to be nothing more than a Zenin sex doll, used by every man in the clan until there’s nothing left but an empty husk of skin.

So you keep your head down, ignoring the cruel words and predatory gazes that follow you. You enjoy the few moments you have in the servant quarters alone with your fellow maids, giggling and whispering to each other, pretending that you’re just normal women. Those friendships you form warm your heart and you take solace in the sympathetic glances and warm brief squeezes of hands when a Zenin man is particularly harsh in their treatment of you.

Maybe that’s why you can’t keep your body still when the woman who shares the same room as you accidentally spills hot tea all over Zenin Toji. And despite how terrified you are of Toji’s hulking figure and blood-stained reputation, you throw your body in between him and your friend, creating a feeble physical shield for her from his wrath.

A part of you is together enough to vaguely acknowledge how strange it is that Toji hasn’t roared a single word yet, hasn’t laid a hand on you. But you’re not foolish enough to think this is over and you throw yourself to the floor in a degrading groveling bow, begging him to forgive your friend, to have mercy on the both of you.

You know exactly who Zenin Toji is and you prepare yourself for the feeling of his infamous sword slicing through your neck. What you aren’t prepared for is the way he lets out a boisterous laugh, green eyes glimmering in amusement when he sees the bewildered look on your face as you tentatively peek up at him.

“You’ve got guts. Tell you what. I’ll forgive you and your clumsy friend if you become my personal maid. Deal?”

It’s a rhetorical question and you stiffly nod your head, tears forming in your eyes as you imagine the rest of your life chained to Toji’s bed, stuck in the lair of a beast.

Except your life isn’t anything like you had imagined and you’re stunned when Toji barks at you to go retire to your own room and get some rest so you’re ready to keep up with tomorrow.

Life is...surprisingly normal. Well as normal as it can be in the household of one of the top Jujutsu sorcerer clans in the world. You scowl at Toji as he teasingly throws a pile of sweat stained clothes and towels on top of your head as he walks out of the bath.

“You’re getting a little stronger, little lady. I almost even felt the punch you threw at me in training today.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the slight quirk of your lips and swell of pride at his backhanded compliment.

Toji isn’t anything like the rest of his clan and it goes deeper than just his lack of cursed energy or his supernatural strength. He’s kind. Okay, maybe that’s a stretch, but you genuinely believe he has a good heart. Not once has he ever spoken maliciously to you. Not once has he ever laid a hand even borderline inappropriate or suggestive on you. And sure, you don’t necessarily enjoy doing his dirty laundry, cleaning his room, and making his bed every day and night, but he makes it easy to forget that you’re just a lowly maid.

He talks to you as if you’re his equal, carefully listening to you, acknowledging your points (even if he mocks you when you do say something silly or that he disagrees with). He invites you to eat meals with him. He trains you deeming you too wimpy to last long without at least some basic defense skills. Your time with Toji is one of the few moments of happiness you know and you greedily indulge.

But unknown to you, your new proximity to the black wolf of the Zenin clan has more than one eye looking at you in interest and above all, Zenin Naoya can’t stop fixating on you.

Naoya has always had a strange mix of respect, disdain, and jealousy towards the older man and he can’t help himself from wanting what Toji has, especially when the both of you look so irritatingly happy chattering away with each other as if you have no cares in the world. How dare a lowly Zenin servant look so carefree. How dare curse-less Toji make a mockery of the rest of the clan by living a shame-free life despite how hard they try to humiliate him for it.

Has Naoya ever been happy? Ever been relaxed?

He can’t remember ever laughing as hard as Toji is now in response to something you’ve said or done. He can’t remember smiling so freely like you are as you playfully slap Toji and try to get him to stop teasing you. A green eyed monster slithers inside of him and before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s making his way towards the both of you.

“Aren’t you two as unseemly as usual. I know you don’t care for our clan’s reputation or rules, but really? Parading your slut around so shamelessly? That’s a new low even for you.”

It’s adorable how you scurry away, cowering behind Toji’s broad figure, fear written all over your face. And although Naoya had done this to get under Toji’s skin, he can’t help but wish the older man would storm off and leave you behind in his clutches. He wonders if you’d be this scared and docile underneath him, wonders how tight you’d be while you tremble in fear while he sinks inside of you…

His thoughts are abruptly interrupted as Toji snorts, slinging a muscular arm over your shoulder and dragging you off with him, subtly tucking you safely into his side and away from Naoya’s hungry gaze.

Usually being ignored and dismissed would rile him up more, but as he watches the two of you amble away and sees your innocent and confused face, unsure what had just happened and what’s causing Toji’s strangely touchy behavior, his appetite is whetted and you’re what he’s craving.

What he hadn’t accounted for is how protective Toji is of you. So strange for a man who doesn’t seem to care about anyone except himself. But Naoya supposes that’s just a testament for how good you must be in bed. He can’t think of any other reason why Toji would waste his time and efforts on an insignificant woman like you.

You’re never left alone long enough for him to corner. Just when he sees you by yourself and swoops in to shove you in a spare room, Toji suddenly looms beside you, green eyes sternly pinning Naoya down with a warning. And as much as Naoya would love to rise to the challenge, he knows that he doesn’t stand a chance against Toji, so he slinks away in defeat, again and again.

It only makes him want you more and he grits his teeth as he slams into one of the whores in his bed who vaguely reminded him of you if he squints in just the right way.

He supposes he should be more remorseful as the news of Toji’s death spreads like wildfire through the Zenin household. But all he can see is a light at the end of the tunnel. It takes every last bit of restraint in him not to immediately hunt you down and devour you, but he bides his time. After all the teasing and taunting you’ve put him through just one taste isn’t going to satisfy him anymore.

No, he won’t just ruin you and throw you away after a single night. He plans on dragging this out, using you, tasting you until it fully sinks in that this is all you’re good for, that he owns every part of you inside and out.

His cock twitches at your swollen face covered in salty tear streaks. You look so pathetic, so scared when he takes his time strolling into your room, kicking your roommate out and locking the door behind him. It’s just the two of you and he feels the rush of power thrumming through his veins at how you tremble and cower before him. If only you were naked and not in those dreary mourning clothes…

But he has ample time for that and he wants to enjoy corrupting you, take his time watching your downfall.

“You’re my maid starting now.”

You mutely nod, but make no move and Naoya scoffs.

“I know Toji was soft with you, but let me set expectations straight. I’m nothing like him. Now get moving.”

“But this is my room-”

You yelp in fright as Naoya’s hand grips the front of your shirt and hauls your body until you’re forced to press against his body, feeling his breath against your face as he sneers at you.

“Sluts don’t get the luxury of their own room or bed. Toji spoiled you. Now move your stuff to my quarters. The only place you’ll be sleeping from now on is my floor or my bed. Understood?”

It’s a rhetorical question and all you can do is crumple to the ground when he lets go, staring unseeingly at Naoya’s retreating back as he exits your room, the weight of your new reality crashing down on you.

Sleeping on the floor is humiliating and uncomfortable. Naoya makes it a point to “accidentally” step on you when he gets on and off the bed, rudely nudging you awake with his feet, resting his soles on your face until you’re flailing around to breathe. But it isn’t as bad as wondering when the worst is to come.

At least you’re clothed. At least your innocence is still intact. So as much as you feel like nothing more than a dog, you take it. After all, your new life isn’t so different from your life before Toji aside from your new sleeping arrangements and the headache of being in close proximity to Zenin Naoya.

It’s entertaining enough in the beginning, watching you curl up on the floor like an obedient puppy, admiring how you never talk or lash out when he literally walks all over you. He even buys you a pretty new collar with his name engraved on it linked to a leash he holds in his hand or leaves tied to his bed.

But unlike a real pet you never warm up to him, always looking at him warily, body tense and nervous in his presence. Not once do you look at him with even the slightest hint of affection or fondness you used to stare at Toji with. He supposes that can’t be helped and he doesn’t care for anything disgusting like your love. But you don’t even seem remotely attracted to him as a man and that’s something his ego won’t allow for.

He knows women can’t stand his attitude. But he also knows that at their base, all women are sluts easily swayed by his good looks. He can’t even count the number of women who’ve insulted him to his face only to end up in his bed, moaning and screaming his name and their love for his cock.

You were supposed to be no different. But your continued disinterest in him infuriates him to the point where petty humiliation isn’t enough to sate his hurt pride.

“Strip and get in bed.”

You’re frozen stiff and he sneers at you while you’re on the verge of terrified tears.

“What? I’m not good enough for you? Don’t act like you aren’t used to this. I’m sure your old master had you warming his bed all the time-”

“Toji would never!”

Even he’s stunned by the weight of his backhand hit as it makes contact with your face, by the venom in his voice as he spits out his next words.

“Don’t you ever say that name in my presence again.”

He takes a few seconds to calm his breath, the crimson of the blood trickling from your nose grounding him as he finds his center once more. But then a thought crosses his mind as that red river finds its way to your lips.

“As punishment, let’s make sure you know what your mouth’s purpose is from now on. Words are wasted on a dumb whore like you anyway. Kneel and open wide.”

It’s oddly arousing watching your tears and blood stream down your face as you choke on his cock. Your efforts are half-hearted at best, but he doesn’t mind. Not when the instinctual way your throat flutters around him as he roughly thrusts his hips into your tight mouth suffices. He can see why Toji kept you around and he groans as his hand slips behind your head and pushes you until your face is squished against his abdomen.

Your mouth feels amazing and your muffled screams for air only add to the vibrations around his shaft. It’s enough to have him spilling down your throat and he keeps you tightly pressed against him, forcing you to drink every last drop he gifts you with. And only when your throat finally stops its forced swallowing does he release you, leering down at your pitiful form heaving for breath.

The bitter taste of his seed is all you can taste, all you can focus on as you greedily inhale much needed oxygen. You pray that he’s done, but you whimper when a strong hand easily pulls you up and begins to pull off your clothing. Instinctively you try to push the invasive appendages away from you, but you freeze at Naoya’s growled threat.

“Don’t make me hurt you any more than I have to.”

You know it’s not an empty threat. You’ve seen the quite literally broken bodies of women who had resisted too much against the Zenin men, against Naoya specifically. So you limply drop your arms to your side and stay still as he humiliatingly gropes and examines you like merchandise.

All you can do is clench your eyes shut as Naoya’s hands grab your breasts, kneading and weighing them in his hands, cruelly prodding and pinching your nipples to see your reactions. All you can do is bite back a muffled yelp when he forces you onto your knees and forearms on the bed, squeezing and smacking your ass, spreading apart your cheeks to closely look at your fluttering holes. All you can do is cry into the sheets as he fingers you open, breaching both untouched openings, his thick digits stretching your tight walls apart and taking their time to thoroughly defile you, using your own slick to loosen your ass.

You try to disassociate, try to imagine that this is just a medical examination. But your fantasies are shattered when something hard and thick slaps against your inner thigh as Naoya rearranges himself behind you, rubbing the head of his cock back and forth against your dripping entrance, coating his shaft with your juices.

“Naoya! Sir, please. I’ve never...You can’t-”

Your pleas are cut short as his hand painfully strikes your ass.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re ruining the mood with your sniveling voice. Remember what I taught you? Sluts don’t get to speak freely. They only get to moan and thank their masters.”

You don’t even know if you can speak even if you wanted to, not when his cock is forced into you in one go, the thick and lengthy shaft ruthlessly tearing you apart. It fills you, stuffing you full, and you don’t think there’s even room left in your body for words. The only thing you can release is a strangled scream, eyes and mouth blown wide open, fingers clawing at the sheets as you try to remotely ground yourself as the foreign sensation overwhelms you.

But Naoya has never been a patient man and there’s a certain sense of entertainment from watching you struggle and writhe underneath him. He begins a relentless pace before you can adjust to the feeling of him inside of you, hips slamming in and out of you, heavy balls bouncing against you.

You’re so tight, so hot, so wet and he can feel a rush of power from the confusion he begins to see setting on your face as forced pleasure begins to mix in with your fear and pain. Moans and high-pitched keens are finding their way in between distressed cries and he smirks at the way your eyes begin to roll back in your head, the way your hips begin to meet him halfway, greedily pushing back against him when he teasingly slows down his pace.

He laughs at the humiliation and embarrassment running rampant on your face when you whine as he abruptly stops

“Wow you really are a slut. You fucking love my cock, don’t you?”

He rolls his eyes as you adamantly shake your head in denial, bored by your playing hard to get act. But as he admires the way your pussy lips obscenely envelop his cock, your pretty puckered hole beckons to him.

“You’re fucking filthy, clamping down on me like a bitch in heat from just a thumb in your ass. You like that? Like having all your holes filled? Maybe when I break you in, I’ll share you with the rest of the clan. Bet you’d love that. Love having cocks in every hole, using every inch of you.”

Your orgasm takes the both of you by surprise in its speed and intensity and Naoya howls in laughter as he resumes fucking you, chasing his own high with his thumb still lodged in your ass, groaning in pleasure at how he can feel the tremors of your orgasm, the way your body convulses in the aftershocks of pleasure and onset of overstimulation.

You’re breathtaking like this, fucked silly, delirious, just a warm body and toy for him to do with as he pleases and it doesn’t take long for him to join you over the edge and add to the sticky mess already inside of you.

With a lewd pop he retracts his thumb from your now lewdly fluttering hole, shoving it into your mouth for you to clean and he smiles at how mindlessly obedient you are as you suck and lick the digit clean like it's your favorite lollipop.

You grimace when he finally pulls out, already feeling his cum beginning to leak out of you and you try and find the strength in your trembling and used body to push yourself off the bed. It’s time to retreat with your tail between your legs and you want nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening in the shower, harshly scrubbing every evidence of your utter defeat and conquest under boiling hot water.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You open your mouth to speak, only to quickly clamp it back shut, remembering how your words only seemed to dig you deeper and deeper into trouble.

“You’re going to wash me and yourself and once we’re clean, you’re going to remain naked and in my bed until I’m ready to use you again. Think of it as a promotion. No more worrying your stupid little head about cleaning and laundry anymore. You’re being upgraded to my personal sex slave and bed warmer. Come on, I don’t have all day.”

You wonder if this is what it feels like to walk the plank, to approach your own death sentence as you robotically trail after Naoya’s figure towards his lavish bathroom. And as you lay in his bed that night, pristine and bare like a glorified sex doll, his broad arm possessively slung around your waist and forcing your bodies to mold together, you bid farewell to your past life, dreading what the future has in store for you.

#jujutsu kaisen smut #yandere jujutsu kaisen #naoya x reader #naoya smut #yandere naoya #tw: noncon #tw: abuse

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witch-hazels-musings · 3 years

Text

Harbinger Diluc - Match 4 - Knowledge

Synopsis: One day, the Harbinger meets someone who ignites something different in him – and all he knows is to keep what he wants close, that’s all that matters

Harbinger!Diluc x FM Reader | Anthology

Match 1 - Introductions | Match 2 - New Normal | Match 3 - Trust

Warnings (will be specific to each chapter) - > being held by the wrist, touching (cheek, wrist)(reader collides with someone's back, reader slaps Tartaglia), flashbacks, feelings of longing) - special appearance: Tartaglia* | wc: 5,014

a-n: this is not canon Diluc* - his behaviors have been changed based on his character as a Harbinger - creative liberties have been taken - enjoy!

The sound of birds singing in the safety of the distant trees, from posts high enough to watch what unraveled below them pulled you from sleep. There was a warmth enveloping you, a strange sensation pulsating down your spine that invited you to turn onto your back and investigate.

“Did I say you could …” The words died in your throat when you realized the bed was empty - was it just your imagination that concocted a vision of what you wanted? Embarrassing. The sheets were cool against your burning cheeks and muffled the groan that rumbled in your chest. “What in the world is wrong with you.” You fussed, pressing the fabric further against your face, shaking your head back and forth in an attempt to purge your mind of its imagination.

Once properly adjusted, you flung the sheets away and began your morning routine without any interruption. Those charged with your care meant you never had to hold a conversation even in the best of moods but today, today you had questions you wanted an answer to.

“Pardon me, do you know if Di- the Harbinger is around.” You asked the attendant as they set out your meager breakfast. A few slices of bread and an egg. The standard.

“I’m unaware.”

“Oh, well could you …" They turned their back and were beyond the tent entrance before you could utter another word. "Ah … never mind then.” With a heavy sigh, you watched a strand of your hair dance in the puff of air you created, eyes scanning the room as you decided on your next move.

Memories began to slip in unwarranted until you become lost in them.

He appeared from the back of the tent, hair still wet, unclasped with fresh clothes clinging to his arms and chest. You turned your head but found yourself glancing at him anyway - what else was there to look at in this dreary, empty, lifeless tent to begin with. The red strands of hair dribbled water in his wake. His bare, scared hands helped pile it all up into a low ponytail and you uncomfortably shifted in the chair.

“Do you have to do that when I’m here?” You mumbled knowing there wasn’t any way of circumventing this type of thing in a place meant for one person.

“This is my space. I didn’t think I needed your permission.” The tone of his voice, the arrogance of it was laced with indifference as he tightened the ribbon in his hair.

“And I didn’t ask –” You nearly choked when he turned to face you. It was like he intentionally meant to throw you off guard or, maybe, he really was so utterly indifferent to you being here that showing his chest meant nothing to him. Drifting eyes fell onto his abs until they became hidden by the very slow progress he made with buttoning his shirt.

“Are you having trouble breathing?”

“What … no.”

“Ah, well, your mouth is open.” Crossing his arms, he flashed what looked to be a smirk with raised eyebrows your way and the feeling of embarrassment, anger, denial spilled through the actions you gave in reply.

“S-screw you …” It took you only a second to grab your items and dash into the only private space in the whole tent. You swore you could hear him laugh even through the muffled screams you made into your clothes.

There were so many quick moments the two of you shared here that, looking back on them, you began to realize he never once acted like the ruthless, heartless, bloodthirsty monster you thought all Harbingers were … the Fatui were your enemy, they were the direct cause of everything bad in your life but every moment with this man was … different.

The thoughts of the night before flooded your mind. The awkward way he approached you, how flustered he acted at the closeness the two of you shared. The feeling of his thumb against your lips, hot breath spreading over your face, hand against your cheek with a gentleness you’d never expect from someone like him. It made your chest flare up until the only way to put out the fire was to move. By the time you were done getting ready, the food on your plate had been left untouched.

The morning air filled your lungs, and the dew on the grass collected on the hem of your pant leg but you had one thing on your mind today. Now, where was that tent again?

Quickly, you made your way through the campsite and toward the place he might be. It was always filled with people so, normally, you didn’t dare get close to but today you were far braver. A flash of red caught your attention. With pep in your step, you made your way toward it.

“What other intel have we gathered?”

“None, other than what was given to us last night.”

The voices just beyond the canvas were harsh, almost as if they were in a hurry. You weren’t sure what it was but something made you uneasy. Slowing your pace, you moved to perch yourself just beyond their line of sight but close enough to hear what was being said.

“… He should be able to handle it.”

“The arrogance, he should have waited until we got more information from the scouts.”

“There wasn’t time for that!” One of the voices grew more agitated as the conversation continued. You were certain you’d heard that voice before, perhaps during another happenstance eavesdropping you did from inside the tent when you first arrived?

“Listen, Charles, you may be loyal to Diluc -”

“Master Diluc.” He corrected, followed by the sound of something colliding with a table.

“Master Diluc, but our mission is to serve the Tsaritsa. If he fails to uphold his loyalty …”

“That would never happen, he’s out there right now …!”

“I’m aware, but do not question me when it comes to seeing this through to the end.”

“Then it would serve you well to not question him either.” There was an uncomfortable, tense silence. It was apparent that Charles and whoever was in discussion with him was not on good terms. You tried to move just enough to catch a peek at their faces when another voice joined the mix, one you’d never heard before.

“Now, now gentleman. Things will be resolved one way or another, let’s take a moment.” Their tone was calm, reassuring, and seemed quick to ease the energy in the tent. “We all have work to attend to, let’s not let it waiver due to unexpected circumstances.”

“Yes sir.” A unanimous agreement spilled from the tent and you heard several boots shuffle through the grass. When they dissipated, you turned to leave when something caught you.

“Now what do we have here?” Shooting up from your crouched position, you stumbled backward over one of the ropes but were saved by a strong, commanding grip. “How bold of you to spy on us.”

“I wasn’t spying …” Your gaze traveled up the arm of the man who held you, grey clothes and a red scarf resting over the chest of a man you’d never seen before. His face gave the impression he was young, it seemed that was a common trend of the Fatui. So where did they steal this one from, you wondered.

“Really now, then do tell me what it was you were doing?” His blue eyes were striking in the sun, and the small freckles that spread over the bridge of his nose looked almost painted on, but there was no faking the intimidation hidden in the sea of his irises.

“I was looking for Diluc.”

“Were you now? … Curious.”

“If he isn’t here, I’ll be on my way. Please let me go.” Your hand moved to push his from your arm, the grip he maintained was beginning to cause you discomfort but not near as much as the way he looked at you; why did all these Fatui have such ravenous eyes?

“Are you an initiate?”

“No …”

“An attendant?”

“No!” You tugged again but he held strong.

“What’s your name, Comrade?”

“What?”

“If you tell me your name, I’ll let you go.”

You hesitated, unsure if giving him your name was the best option but the way he held you, the way he watched your every move, his eyes never once leaving your face, you knew it was hopeless to deny him. “Y/N.” You whispered it but he heard it all the same.

“Y/N …” The sound of it on his tongue made you shiver as if you were suddenly surrounded by cold water. “I’ll be sure to let him know you’re looking for him.”

“Th-thanks.” He let you go and you took several steps to create distance. You wanted to run away, to turn on your heels and find the nearest place to hide but your curiosity and drilled-in politeness made you stay a moment longer. “What do I call –”

“Tartaglia, or, if you’d like, you can call me Childe.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you … Childe.” He nodded and gave you a smile you knew not to trust. Either way, he seemed willing to let you go. So, as quickly as you could, you turned to walk away but swore you could feel his eyes on you even when you were certain he couldn’t see you anymore.

–

Days went by and there wasn’t any word from Diluc. On the fifth day, you decided to bravely approach Charles - now that you’d seen his face - and asked him if there was anything new to share. The expression he gave you was one of the most honest ones you’d received in a long time but it certainly didn’t bring any comfort.

“There hasn’t been any news.” He let his head lean in his hands as he gazed at the countless correspondence letters before him. You knew even if you pressed he’d be unable to share more than that. Somehow you knew he wasn’t lying to you. Not when the sigh that rumbled through his chest was the same one you’d had for days. Thanking him, you went on your way toward something, anything that would occupy your time.

It was a first, you missing him like this. You weren’t sure what the root cause was but you knew the feeling in the pit of your stomach was telling you something wasn’t right. It was the same feeling you got when you were little and gathered up those strangely colored apples from the village orchard, it was the same feeling when watching your friend jump from stone to stone in the river, it was the same when fighting all those months ago in the scorched field - if you hadn’t listened then, the events to follow would have been catastrophic. So you had learned to trust this feeling as if your life depended on it.

“Honing your skill on the apple I see.” A familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts. Squinting against the sun, you saw the color orange and blue in your vision. Swallowing, you did your best to hold steady as your gut began to whisper words of caution.

“Huh?”

“You’re doing a real number on that.” He pointed at the fruit in your hand and that’s when you noticed how close the blade had gotten to your palm. Beneath your feet was a pile of demolished apple bits you must have let fall as soon as they were cut from the fruit.

“Oh …”

“Something on your mind, Comrade?”

Lobbing the apple as hard as you could over the wooden fence surrounding the camp, you wiped the knife off on your leg before sliding it back into the hidden holster of your boot. It took you weeks to sneak this small utility knife into your wardrobe but it was worth it, even if you got caught.

“No-nothing.” It was still strange for anyone in the camp to talk to you, let alone notice you. Most of the time they kept to themselves and you preferred it that way, but that commonality wasn't apparent in him. This wasn’t the first time Childe came to check on you, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last.

“You ready for that spar then?” Ah, there it was.

“You ask me that every day -”

“And I’ll keep asking until you say yes.” He crossed his arms and even with the sun shining brightly against his back, you could make out the devious grin he wore.

“Fine, but I’m not - hey!” Childe didn’t wait for you to finish, his hand was already grabbing your wrist, a very common behavior of his: touchy. “Slow down!” You shouted but he was far too hyped up to hear anything at the moment.

The Fatui foot soldiers caught sight of you being dragged toward the fighting ground. Some were already headed that way which made you wonder if they knew more about this person than you did. Scanning the campsite and doing your best to keep up pace with the ginger’s long strides, you noticed an operative dashing in through the front gates and heading straight toward the commander’s tent.

“Hey, ho-hold on!” The heels of your boot dug into the ground, your hand moved to pry his away but instead of stumbling from his grip, you collided with his back instead.

“So forward.” Childe’s voice was muffled but you sensed him looking at you. Even if he was shouting, you wouldn’t have heard him because every bit of your attention was on the operative waving their hands and pointing toward the front gate … was that … blood on their …

A hand gripped your chin forcing you to look away and when you saw the face of its owner the frustration in your chest exploded through your hands. “Leave me alone!”

There was a heavy silence that fell over this area of the camp. Interested onlookers shifted to hushed whispers, the wind blew across the field and rattled the dangling artifacts hanging from the tents, causing the canvas to flutter. You scowled at the man who held your chin and breathed out the irritation in your lungs.

The force of your attack wasn't enough to loosen the grip he had on your chin. “Well, that’s a very appealing expression.”

“I don’t have time for this today, I have to … I have other things.” Slapping his hand away you glanced back at the commander’s tent but the operative was gone. Where did they go? In an effort to see better, you gathered your hair over your shoulder, fingers clenching the strands to hold them in place, and started to scan the area again.

“What other things would a Harbingers plaything have to do than entertain them?” His comment settled in your stomach, the sudden sensation of him to you set off your screaming gut but it was the feeling of his thumb and fingers against your neck that made you shiver uncomfortably the most.

“What did you …”

“Every Harbinger has their own vice; war, revenge, power, lust …” When you didn't respond he offered more, "Mine, for instance, is power. I don't mind acting on it, in fact, it's quite a thrill. But I never thought he would act on his."

“He’s not like that.”

Tartaglia laughed, his hand wrapping further around your neck as he stepped toward you, “He’s exactly like that.” Tartaglia seemed to tower over you even as he leaned toward your ear. In bravery or stupidity, you stood your ground. “Where did you come from, little fox? Did you follow him here or did he take you?” The question shot through your chest like an arrow. The lack of response and the quiver of your eyes told him the answer even if your heart couldn’t bear to speak it. “Ah, so typical of him.”

“Stop.”

“I’m curious. How far has he gone? I bet you've shared a bed with him but is that it? A pretty thing like you, I’m sure it’s addicting -“ Every inch of your body was electrified. Your hands tingled, lungs burned as you heaved through partially parted lips and gazed furiously at the face of the man you just slapped. When he looked down at you, thumb pressing against the corner of his lip and hand palming his raw cheek, there was an energy in his eyes as if he got off on this.

“I see. So you’re in love with him.” His words hung in the air for so long that you were sure they would turn to stone and fall before your feet if you didn’t refute them outright.

“I don’t lo-”

“Master Tartaglia!” His attention turned at the sound of his name but yours lingered on his face, still feeling the shock of his statement through every bone in your body. “There’s been news about Master Diluc, you’re needed.”

The sound of the Harbinger's name captured all your attention. The action didn’t go unnoticed by the ginger. “Let us be on our way then.” He glanced at you but you barely registered anything until a hand found your shoulder and pushed you in the opposite direction of the information you desperately wanted to hear. “You, take her back to her tent. Don’t let her out until I say so.”

“What! Hey, let me … T-Tartaglia!” You were already being dragged in the opposite direction when the last thing you saw was a smirk on his face before he turned his back on you.

When you finally were ‘escorted’ back to your tent, it felt like the first day all over again. The confusion, the anxiety, it all compiled in your chest until it felt like you were suffocating.

“I’ll bring you something to eat, there are guards just outside so don’t get any funny ideas.” The attendant turned but you kept them still with your shaking hands.

“Wait, you have to tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything. Now, let me go this instant.” Multiple smacks on your arms didn’t deter you from holding steady. If they wouldn’t give you what you wanted, maybe you would be satisfied with another.

“Fine, then who is Tartaglia? Why did they call him here?”

The pressure of their nails eased up, and the shock on their face seeped into their eyes as they told you the one thing you didn’t want to hear. “He’s a Harbinger.” Your hands loosened just enough for them to slip free and while they shoved the tent entrance out of their way, you collapsed onto the floor and wished you’d never asked the question in the first place.

Replaying the events in your head, you scolded yourself for the stupidity of your actions. It all made sense now, everything that you’d seen him do. It was so obvious. It wasn’t like they pinned a piece of parchment to their clothes saying who or what they were, but it should have clicked with you sooner.

Every Harbinger has a vice … you recalled him telling you. Did Diluc have one too? You learned in one sentence just how little you knew about the man who took you from your home.

So you’re in love with him … Hiding in your hands, you shook until the word didn’t hold any more meaning. Love? Love! There was no way. You hated him … couldn’t stand how overbearing he was, how controlling he was.

The irritating way he asked you if you had enough to eat, if you liked what was prepared, to let him know if there was something you’d prefer. You hated how observant he was. If there was something you gave even a hint of displeasure at, he’d send someone in to adjust it. Of course, he never did let you alleviate the biggest discomfort of them all - being trapped in this camp - but as you thought back on your days here, you couldn’t help but recognize all he did to make you feel comfortable.

How he gave you space, never asking for much.

How he tended to you in the smallest of ways.

When he was here and you’d wake up from a nightmare …

“Bad dream?” Diluc’s voice cut through the darkness. As your eyes adjusted to the shadows, you saw him sitting at the table covered in scribbled parchment. He glanced at you but mostly kept to his work. You found it hard to ignore the fact that his long, black robe was undone, giving view of his skin each time he shifted or grabbed a new document from the pile.

“I’m fine.” You replied, now wishing you had complained a little bit more about the nightgown he provided for you. Even though this one had real sleeves, you still felt exposed to him even when he wasn’t looking at you.

“Alright, try to sleep. I’ll be here if you need anything.” He pushed his long red hair out of his face and you leaned back on the bed but kept your eyes fixated on him. If he wasn’t a Harbinger, if he wasn’t your enemy perhaps things could be different but as the distrust rested in your heart, you found the only way you could sleep was to watch him and listen to the sound of his pen moving across the page.

Or those mornings when you woke up and found him at your side ...

There was an intense heat at your back, even when you moved away from it it was like your entire spine was on fire. Reluctantly, you turned to see what it was only to find a pile of unkempt red hair directly in your face. It made your heart stop, caused you to freeze as the sudden realization and overwhelming scent of him filled you completely.

Carefully, you moved away but as you did, you were able to see more of his sleeping form. The relaxed expression on his face, slightly parted lips, and long lashes were hidden under the fiery shade of his hair. Hands resting peacefully on the sheets he’s pushed down his body, unintentionally exposing his chest. It was starting to get annoying the number of times you’d seen him without his shirt on but even more annoying that your eyes wouldn’t stop looking at him.

In this position, he seemed far more innocent than you’d ever consider him to be.

The quiet of the morning allowed you to hear his breath, gave you time to take in the beating of your heart as you scanned the muscles of his arm and wondered about the scars that covered it. Instinctually you lifted your hand to trail across one in particular. It stretched over his bicep, your finger followed the path of it making him stir at the contact. Embarrassed, anxious, you yanked your hand back and turned your head into the pillow.

The sound of his deep, just-waking-up sigh made your heart flutter. The creaking of the bed gave you a smidgen of relief knowing he’d be gone soon but when you felt his fingers against your cheek, the way they traveled to your ear and gently pushed your hair from your face, you swore your heart was going to explode. It wasn’t until the sound of splashing water from the back room filled your ears that you’re ‘still sleeping form’ stifled a scream.

The memories started to flood in. Each moment, each gesture, every reserved closeness the two of you shared was like a display of his intentions. He wasn’t anything like Tartaglia, he wasn’t anything like anyone … he was Diluc. Behind the title he wore there was a man hidden with values contradictory to everything you knew about the Fatui.

So, as your mind began to settle on the understanding your heart knew long ago, you lifted your head at the sound of voices coming from beyond the tent and focused.

“Ah, sir, I’m sorry but I’ve been instructed to not let anyone inside.”

“What do you mean?”

“Master Tartaglia …”

“I don’t work for Master Tartaglia now let me through.”

“I can’t do that sir.” There was irritation in both of their voices but you were sure the other was someone you could trust, and you were certain they held information you desperately wanted to hear.

“Fine, I’m sure you’d be the last to know so if you haven’t heard, reports from the domain Master Diluc was sent to investigate, somewhere beyond Brightcrow Mountains, have been cut off. We can’t get in contact with them. Master Tartaglia will be heading up an investigation and I fear he will take drastic measures to get the answers the Tsaritsa wants.”

“… okay? I’m just supposed to gua-”

“Yes, you’re right … please see to it that she is comfortable. Most of the units will be busy preparing so this is a delicate time until they head out.”

Thank you, Charles.

The two of them wrapped up their conversation but you were already preparing. Quickly, you changed your clothes to something darker, and harder to see, and found a bag that held items you never once cared about. Dumping them on the ground, you set off to refill it. A change of clothes, several items that might be useful as make-shift tools. There was a ribbon he left on the table which you used to tie back your hair. Now it would keep it free from your face so you could see everything you needed to.

The sound of soldiers moving outside told you things were going to be hectic but you didn’t care; there was only one thing on your mind, there was only one thing ever on your mind anymore.

Patiently you waited, hand hovering over the canvas, knife prepped and ready to slice your way free. You knew it would be hours until they checked on you again, habits built up from your time locked in here meant you knew everything and had all the necessary knowledge to make your escape. From the routes of the guards to the sections of the camp that would be less occupied at this time of day, you’d been practicing, waiting, preparing for this moment since the very beginning and now you were going to enact your plan.

Now.

The knife cut smoothly along the canvas tent. When it was just long enough for you to squeeze through, you made sure the coast was clear before slipping into the dwindling sunlight. Like a sparrow swooping through the air, you dashed from shadow to shadow until you eventually made it to the edge of the camp. This was your second hurdle.

The last time you had to climb something like this was when you were young and one of the village kids tossed a stolen doll onto a roof. Just like then, you analyzed the obstacle with careful eyes before detecting the best path. It was only slightly more challenging considering there was barely enough room for your fingers to slip in between this post and the next, but even if they screamed at the pressure and roughness of the wood, what lay just beyond was enough to keep your center.

The ground came much quicker than you anticipated, the heavy drop into the grass made you tumble forward. There was no time to catch yourself. Instead, you bolted as fast as you could toward the tree line and didn’t stop until you were deep in the thick of it.

The smell of fresh air, thick, lush evergreens, and spruce trees sent out wave after wave of clarifying scent and soon the warmth of your legs began to fill your body even after you slowed to a steady trot. The bag on your back was comforting, the energized oxygen in your lungs made you feel alive but it was the freedom of being beyond those walls that made you lift your hands to the chattering birds and sun-speckled treetops.

“I missed you.” You whispered, smiling at the feeling of being untethered. The sound of a hawk echoed in the thicket and, with a knowing nod, you looked for the best candidate to gather your bearings.

Climbing the tree made you feel at home. The skill of jumping, launching, and slinking around each branch felt so familiar to you that there was no way you’d ever forget this connection. When you finally reached the top, or at least high enough to see the surrounding area, you took a moment before gathering your Intel. Off in the distance, you saw the peak of Dragonspine, the City of Freedom perched on its rock in the middle of the lake, Stormterrors lair, and in between, the mountains of Brightcrow. You were about to climb back down when your heart called to you.

Past the snowy mountains, beyond the grand lake were some of the landmarks of the wonderful land of Liyue. How many times had you climbed its mountains and landscapes, how often had you run through the fields and streams? It was your home, your real home and it called your name so powerfully it nearly drowned everything out.

The sound of laughing children, the rejuvenating beat of countless feet dashing through the woods bounding from tree to tree, stone to stone, one adventure to the next. Helping hands and smiling faces, a trade for hard work. It all was so tempting and heart-shattering at the same time. It was right there, home was closer than you thought possible. The battle taking place in your heart begged you to submit. You were conflicted. Rubbing the water from your eyes, you pulled your hand away only to see through the starlight in the darkness, the campsite nestled in the open field.

–

The tree supported you until your feet hit the ground. The leaves you disturbed in your climb fell around you like decisions you had to make before they would point you in the right direction. Closing your eyes, you let out a sigh before feeling the ground give way to your feet. While the leaves seemed to speak in one voice as they drifted toward your home, your legs carried you toward the unshakable red that spoke in another.

Match 5

tag list:

@nightlywallows

@vibe-chess

@theresapancakes

#harbinger diluc #genshin impact #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction #diluc #genshin diluc #genshin impact diluc #harbinger!diluc #tw slapping #cw slapping #genshin impact x female reader #diluc x female reader

193 notes · View notes

queenxxxsupreme · 3 years

Note

Arthur Morgan request where just the reader being there when Arthur comes back after being tortured and caring for him?

A/N: I know I already did one like this (Goodbye Kisses) but I really love this whole mission/scene in the game so I did another one :) I hope you like it babe!

Warnings: nothing out of game canon, mentions of Arthur’s wound, potential spoilers for chapter 3, spoilers for Blessed Are the Peacemakers

***

“How long are you gonna stand out here?”

You turned your head to see Hosea approaching you. You stood where the hitching posts for the horses were, your eyes scanning the trail commonly used to enter camp. Your arms were crossed and your shoulders were tense. Your jaw had been locked until Hosea spoke to you.

You let out a small breath through your mouth.

“Until he comes back.”

“You know him, Y/N. Always out and traveling.” Hosea came to stand beside you.

“But he didn’t tell me he would be going anywhere after meeting with Colm, Hosea. He would’ve told me if he had plans to go somewhere else.”

“Oh I’m sure Morgan don’t tell you everything, sweetheart.”

You looked over your shoulder at Micah.

“He’s a grown man. He doesn’t need a woman breathing down his neck the way you do.”

“This is none of your concern, Micah.” Hosea told him, glaring at the man.

“I’m just trying to calm Miss Y/N’s nerves, Hosea.” Micah put his hands up as he came to stand next to you. “We don’t want her worryin’ her pretty little self to death now, do we?”

You cringed at his words, your stomach churning.

“Come get something to eat, Y/N.” Hosea turned his attention back to you. “It’s been a long day. In the morning if he’s not back, I’ll send Charles and John out for him.”

“I will in a minute.” You nodded, giving him a little smile.

“I’ll get you a bowl. Better not let it get cold.”

He walked away, leaving you alone with Micah Bell.

“You know, I don’t think he’s coming back.” Micah took a swig out of the liquor bottle in his hand.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a dangerous world out there, sweetheart. Wouldn’t expect a little filly like you to understand.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Moving on is probably what’s best for you.”

You gritted your teeth together, your eyes falling on the trailhead. Your nails dug into your bicep as your mind raced with endless scenarios.

“Arthur would want that for you. He’d want you to be happy.” Micah reached out to brush his fingers over your hair.

You swatted his hand away, turning to face him in the same instant.

“Don’t put your goddamn hands on me, Micah Bell.”

“You’re a feisty one.” He smirked. “I like that.”

“What’s that in the woods?” Mary-Beth’s voice caught your attention.

Your head snapped in the direction of the woods, eyes almost frantically finding the trailhead.

Arthur’s horse moved along the trail at a walking pace. Something- or someone -was on its back hunched over. The horse stopped and Arthur’s body slipped off, hitting the ground with a thud.

Time slowed down. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears. You could barely hear Mary-Beth and Karen shout Arthur’s name. You weren’t sure when Dutch had come to stand next to you, but even his voice sounded distant when he yelled.

Soon, there was a small crowd of people gathered around Arthur.

You couldn’t move, too afraid to find the man dead on the ground. Your heart was in your throat and you felt light headed. But then Arthur spoke and you could suddenly breathe again.

“I told you it was a setup, Dutch.”

You found yourself sprinting to him, roughly shoving Bill to the side.

“Move! Move!” Your voice was weak at first but then it became more demanding and almost hostile. “Back up! Give him some space!”

“Do what the woman said!” Dutch’s voice resonated better than yours and the crowd listened better to his words rather than your aggressive pushes and shoves.

You finally got to the center of the circle, finding Mrs. Grimshaw looking down at him.Your eyes met Arthur’s and tears blurred your vision. You forced them back. You didn’t even get a chance to say anything to Arthur before Dutch was shouting orders at Grimshaw, Pearson, and Swanson.

You were still trying to process what you had just seen, to process the state that you had seen Arthur in.

Pearson and Dutch took Arthur to his tent while Swanson and Grimshaw followed.

Once again, you were stuck in place, left alone, and unable to move.

The lump in your chest was expanding, pushing its way into your throat. Your hands hurt so bad from how tight you were curling your fingers into fists.

A hand on your shoulder made you jolt. It was Charles.

“Are you okay?”

You couldn’t find your voice immediately.

“I-I’m…. He’s- Arthur-He’s-,”

“He’s here now.” Charles cut you off, his quiet baritone soothing. “Go see him. I’m sure he’d rather see your face than Swanson’s.”

You nodded, forcing your legs into motion.

Swanson was just stepping out of Arthur’s tent when you arrived. He whispered something incoherent to Dutch and Hosea. Then their eyes fell on you.

“Y/N.” Hosea said your name as if to announce your presence to everyone else.

“Can I go in?” You gestured to the tent.

“Of course, of course. You need anything at all, give us a holler.”

As they left the tent to go to a nearby fire, you slipped into the tent.

Mrs. Grimshaw looked at you, offering you a little smile.

“How-How is he?” You made sure to keep your eyes on her. You couldn’t look at Arthur, not yet. You weren’t ready to look at how hurt he was in the oil lamp light.

“It’s hard to tell right now, darlin.’” She whispered, though Arthur could hear her. “He’s got a bad wound to his shoulder. Needs cleaned. There might be more but he’s stubborn. Didn’t want to talk about what hurt. Just kept askin’ for you.”

You nodded.

“I can clean him up. Just-Just get me what I need.”

“I’ll get it to you right away.”

You watched Grimshaw leave, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. Your stomach was twisting up into knots. Your palms were clammy as you made fists by your sides. The only thing you could hear was the sound of your heart thumping in your chest and ears.

“Pumpkin.” Arthur’s voice was raspy.

Instinctually, you turned your head to look at him. The second your eyes fell on him, the tears you had been so desperately fighting escaped.

“Oh, pumpkin.” He tried to sit up but winced, his face contorted with pain.

“Don’t you dare try to get up, Arthur Morgan.” Though you meant to sound stern, your voice quivered.

“Don’t cry, pumpkin.” Arthur patted the bed next to him.

You moved to his side, carefully sitting down on the mattress next to him. You placed your hand on his chest, needing to feel him, to know for sure that he was okay.

His skin was so pale and his shoulder wound looked awful. He didn’t look like he should’ve been alive.

Arthur took your hand from his chest and kissed your knuckles.

“I-Arthur, I thought-,”

“I know.” He stopped you, giving your hand a little squeeze. “M’sorry for worryin’ ya.”

You shook your head, bringing your free hand up to wipe your cheeks.

“Arthur, I was scared I was never going to see you again.”

“That’s silly talk. Ain’t nothin’ gonna keep me from you. You know that.”

“Y/N?” Grimshaw said your name, wanting to announce her arrival before entering.

“Come in, Susan.” You turned your attention to her.

She walked in with a bowl of water, a few towels over her shoulder, and a couple other bottles tucked under her arm.

“Are you gonna let Miss Y/N help you get cleaned up so you can get better for us, Mr. Morgan?”

“M’gonna try, Mrs. Grimshaw.” He let out a little sigh.

“Well you better try real hard. We need you to get better. This camp can’t operate properly without you.”

“That’s mighty kind of you to say.”

“Only speakin’ the truth.” She placed the items down on the end table and placed her hand on your shoulder. “You let me know if you need a hand with him.”

“Thank you.” You watched her leave.

“Hey, pumpkin?”

“Yes, Arthur?” You looked back at him. His eyes were slowly closing but he seemed to be fighting the urge to fall asleep. “Arthur Morgan, you can’t sleep just yet.”

“I know, I know.” He brought his right hand up to rub his eyes, wincing when he accidentally bumped the cut below his eye. “M’not trying to.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up then so you can get to bed.” You pulled the knife off of your hip and moved to the side of the bed. Arthur watched you, trusting you enough to know you wouldn’t hurt him.

“Just gonna get your union suit off of you.”

“Guess I’m lucky you know how to use a knife.”

“Don’t move and we’ll be fine.” You teased a little.

You unbuttoned the chest of his union suit, then used the knife to cut the arms.

In the dim light provided by the oil lamps, you could see dark blue and purple bruises on his sides and along his ribcage. You’d have to check on those later. For now, you needed to tend to his shoulder wound.

“Already took the bullet out. You don’t gotta dig around in there.”

“Good. You’re still not gonna like this.” You picked up a bottle of liquor that rested on the ground next to the bed.

“Shit.” Arthur mumbled.

“I’m sorry.” You murmured.

“It’s fine, pumpkin. You gotta do it.”

You picked up a towel Grimshaw had brought and began to pour a decent amount of the liquor on to the wound. Arthur tensed up, his fingers curling around the bedding beneath him.

“Ah, fuck!”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, darlin’.” You repeated softly, gently wiping away the excess liquor that spilled down his arm. It broke your heart to know it was hurting him, but this would clean the wound and hopefully keep it from getting infected.

You moved towards the chest at the foot of the bed. Arthur’s eyes followed you.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

You said nothing.

“Usually you’re always askin’ me questions about where I been and who I met on my travels. What animals I ran into.”

“I know what animals you ran into.” You pulled a roll of clean bandages from the chest then returned to his side. “I-I don’t know that I can handle it tonight, Arthur.”

“Pumpkin, everything’s fine-,”

“Everything is not fine, Arthur!” You cut him off, raising your voice as you looked down at him. “You are not fine! You don’t sound fine! You sound half fucking dead and you look worse than that! All because Micah thought there was some sort of rekindling this fucking fued between Dutch and Colm!”

Arthur stayed silent.

You unraveled the bandages, calming down just a little so you no longer yelled at him.

“I swear, Arthur. I’ve never seen Dutch make more stupid decisions than he has since we’ve taken in Micah Bell.”

“Micah’s got that effect on people.”

“It’s funny you think this is some joke, Arthur.” You shook your head, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to him. “You think this is some joke when you almost didn’t make it home-,”

“Hey.” He firmly stopped you, brows drawing together. “Nothin’ was gonna stop me from makin’ it home to you. I already said that. I know you were scared and I know no matter how much I tell you you had no reason to be scared it won’t make a difference. But I’m here now aren’t I?”

“Barely.” You murmured.

“Well I ain’t leavin’ this camp until I’m a hundred and ten percent better. That could be weeks.” He paused for a moment to let the words sink in. “Weeks of me not leavin’ your side for jobs or for travelin’ days away.”

A little smile began to form on your lips.

“Weeks of me followin’ you around like a lost dog.”

“That sounds pleasant.”

Arthur chuckled.

You began to wrap his shoulder, the smile still lingering on your lips.

“I like that idea.”

“Maybe I’ll have to get hurt more often.”

“Arthur.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Just jokin’ with you, pumpkin.”

Taglists: @winterwolf @doggone-cowgirl @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @nonodino @krenee1drful @thefirelordm @sargeantsea @sokkasdarling @zodiacaldust @gabstaroc @cal-lifornication

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #Arthur Morgan fic #Arthur Morgan ask #Arthur Morgan #arthur morgan oneshot #Arthur Morgan x reader #rdr2 fic #kacey answers

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castleshadows · 3 years

Text

Bad Dreams

When Kieran feels Poppy's fear through the bond, he panics and goes to help her, but it's not what he thinks.

Written June 4, 2021

Something was wrong. From all the way across the palace he could feel her fear and panic, and Kieran knew that something bad was happening. His eyes shot open and without a second thought he shifted, sprinting out of his chamber and down the hallway. Wide-eyes servant jumped out of the way. They knew the look of a wolven on a mission, and even more so they knew not to disturb said wolven.

It was four turns, five hallways and a set of stairs from his chamber to the East Wing, and he counted every second, his own fear and panic growing along with his Queen’s. If someone—or something which seemed like a much likelier possibility these days—was hurting her, he would rip them apart with no hesitation.

In his head he ran through all the possibilities of how the attacker could’ve gotten in. The main entrance was guarded by two wolven at all times with Atlantian guards stationed along the hallway just outside. The windows were kept locked at night and more wolven were posted underneath them, but apparently it hadn’t been enough.

Kieran reached the hallway that led to the Royal Chambers, too focused to notice that neither the Atlantian nor wolven guards had moved from their post or seemed to think anything was amiss. He burst through the double door into the living space and then through another set into the bedroom, skidding to a halt.

Poppy shot off the bed, going for her dagger only to freeze and meet Kieran’s gaze as she realized who had just burst into her rooms.

Kieran looked around, teeth bared and claws unsheathed, but there was no one there. Only Poppy standing next to the bed eyes wide and bloodshot, from…. Were those tears?

“What are you doing?” She croaked, breaking eye contact and looking behind him. He knew without having to look that there were several guards searching the chambers for whatever threat Kieran had thought there was.

He shifted, only remembering he was naked when Poppy’s eyes dipped below his waistline and then quickly back up, her face red. Had he not been fearing for his Queen’s life mere seconds ago he probably would’ve smirked and made an inappropriate joke, but instead he stepped forward, reaching for Poppy.

“I thought you were—”

There was a scuffle of boots behind him and he cut off, turning around. Over ten guards stood in a small semi-circle around the bed, waiting for instructions.

“Go back outside,” he ordered, trying to look as dignified as possible despite the fact that he could feel his cock hardening from the chill, “It was a false alarm, everything’s fine.”

He shifted so that his body blocked Poppy from their curious gazes and watched as they filed out, resuming their posts. Once the door was closed and everything was quiet, Kieran turned around, scouring Poppy for any injuries even though he knew it was not physical pain that plagued her tonight. Once he had properly assessed her, he cleared his throat and crossed his arms.

“I’m sorry about bursting in here. I didn’t mean to scare you, but I felt something through the bond and I thought you were—” Her eyes filled with the barest hint of tears, but she quickly blinked them back. He frowned and continued, “I thought someone had found a way in. I thought you were hurt.”

“Oh,” she stared at the ground, reaching for one of the smaller blankets that covered the bed and wrapped it around her body, “Well I’m fine. I just had a nightmare that’s all. You can go back to your rooms.”

“Absolutely not.” He said it before he could stop himself. Poppy’s brown furrowed and the expression on her face was a combination of embarrassment and confusion.

“What do you mean, “absolutely not”,” she was angry now, “I’d like to go back to sleep now, Kieran, and I am your Queen. Get out now.”

“Tell me what’s wrong Poppy.”

“No.”

“Why not.”

She sniffed, avoiding eye contact, and hugging the blanket tighter around her. Then she said something almost inaudible. But, his ears picked up on it and immediately his annoyance shattered to nothing but dust.

“I don’t want you to see me like this.” she’d said.

Kieran stepped forward, taking the blanket from her with an aching gentleness even he didn’t recognize. He smoothed out the shirt she was wearing—Casteel’s shirt by the size and smell of it—straightening it so it better covered her shoulders. The covers on the bed were thrown around and hanging off the side, and so he fixed those too. All the while, Poppy’s emerald green eyes were fixed on him, a million questions in her teary gaze.

When he was done, he took the corner of the covers and pulled it back, better positioning the pillows so that they weren’t falling off of the bed.

“What are you doing?” Poppy asked, her voice still hoarse, but sounding stronger now.

Kieran didn’t respond, only held out a hand for her to take hold of, and pulled her gently towards him until she was kneeling on the bed.

“Wolven form or human form?”

Poppy raised an eyebrow, and he repeated the question patiently, tugging her to lay down.

“Human form…” she finally answered, though it was tentative. He was surprised. As much as she talked about the wolven being fluffy and warm, he could’ve sworn she would pick wolven form. He didn’t say anything however, only nodded and pulled back more of the blanket so he could maneuver himself underneath it.

“Wait!” Poppy practically shouted, throwing a hand out to stop him. Kieran paused, raising his brows.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

Poppy glared at the kind of insult and crossed her arms. She looked adorable when she was angry, but he refrained from commenting on it. It probably wouldn’t make the night any better for her.

“You’re naked,” she said, gesturing to between his legs, when his cock was still fully on display.

“Yes,” he confirmed, “I am.”

To be honest, Kieran had forgotten he was naked. He rarely had clothes on at night, preferring to sleep naked, so getting into bed completely bare wasn’t unusual for him, and wasn’t something he really thought about.

“I’m not sleeping with you while you're naked.”

“I think being naked is the only way to sleep with someone…” Kieran said, smiling a bit when Poppy turned red.

“I don’t want to sleep beside you while you’re naked then.”

Kieran sighed, getting out of bed and walking to the closet. He rifled through the several large drawers until he found a pair of pants that would fit him. Casteel’s legs were slightly longer than his, and he was leaner as well, but it wouldn’t be too much of a problem. Pulling the pants on, he let them rest on his hips. He had to tighten the drawstrings a bit, but they fit well enough that they wouldn’t fall off while he was sleeping. Hopefully.

He stepped out of the large closet, his eyes immediately finding Poppy’s. They were teary again, and a droplet spilled over as she saw whose pants he was wearing.

“Sorry,” she whispered, bringing her hand up and wiping away the tears, “I just… I just really miss him.”

Kieran walked over to her, climbing onto the bed and holding his arms out. She was hesitant at first, but eventually fell into him, wrapping her arms around his torso. There was no sobbing or even much crying, they just held each other for several minutes rocking back and forth. Though it was unclear who was doing the rocking. Kieran could feel his eyes start to grow damp, and when the tears started to spill over, he didn’t stop them, letting the liquid drip down his cheeks.

He’d spent so long holding in his feelings. Trying to stay strong for Poppy, and for himself, but he knew he would need to let them out eventually. Gods, he missed his friend. Casteel had a way of making every situation seem completely manageable, and without him… Without him the whole world seems dull.

Poppy pulled her head back, and gripped Kieran’s chin, guiding him to look at her. Tears streamed down her cheeks as well.

“We’ll get him back,” Kieran choked out, when Poppy didn’t say anything, “We’ll get him back if it’s the last thing we do.”

Poppy nodded, but still didn’t say anything, only pulled Kieran down and settled them beneath the covers. Kieran wrapped his body around hers, holding his Queen close, and throughout the rest of the night they stayed like that, refusing to let each other go.

#poppy balfour #kieran contou #poppy & kieran #poppy x casteel #fbaa #akofaf #tcogb #tcogb spoilers #from blood and ash #a kingdom of flesh and fire #the crown of gilded bones #nightmares #comfort #cuddling #crying #wolven

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brockadoodles · 3 years

Text

Snow doesn’t fall in scottsdale - a. matthews

AN: Uhh just ignore the text in the gif since it’s obviously not relevant to the story. (even though Ema is the best) But here’s what might be the last Christmas fic in my eight weeks of Christmas series. I’ve been finding myself inspired for other stuff, and there’s so much wonderful Christmas content out there that I’m sure you don’t need 47837584 more from me. So enjoy this one, a nice anon requested more Auston content, so that’s why I wrote it. But, I really liked it and hope you do too.

This is also for @broadstbroskis who I love to send things at absolutely inappropriate times for her so, I hope this hits you at a bad time ;)

Word Count: 4628

Warnings: None, it’s floofy.

Auston felt himself sigh as he looked at you. You were sitting out on the roof and holding an old mug of tea. He noticed the way you held the mug close to your chest and looked out at the skyline. The sun was just beginning to set, the deep orange and purple hues and the hot dry air were some of his favorite things about where he was from and lived during the offseason. But as he carefully looked at the somber expression coming from his limited view of your face, he could tell that you missed Toronto.

You were the type of person who had a firm belief that Christmas wasn’t really Christmas without the snow, and Scottsdale, Arizona might have felt cold at 20 degrees celsius to those that lived there, but to you all it was, was a dry desert with fake Christmas trees and a painful lack of snow covering the ground. Your favorite memories included carrying a small sled down the street while holding your mom’s hand, or sitting on your dad’s shoulders at the Christmas market every year, snow piling onto your beanie as you stuck your tongue out hoping to catch flakes. Those were your favorite memories of the holiday and even if the view was stunning, the palm trees simply didn’t hold a match to the thick, evergreens covered in snow. But you were thankful to have Auston, and his family, who had been nothing but accommodating to you. So you kept your homesickness away from them, plastering on a smile that faded as soon as you came out to the roof to take a moment to yourself.

You didn’t want to complain, because you were genuinely grateful that Auston had invited you to spend the holiday with him. Before you could contemplate the weight of the question, or think about how spending Christmas with your friend who always felt like something more would only entangle your heart further into the mess of feelings that it was already nestled in, you said yes. The decision didn’t phase you until you were waiting for a flight, your thigh brushing his and his head resting on your shoulder, that maybe this was only going to end up hurting you in the long run because of your own harbored feelings for one of your closest friends.

You’d liked Auston for almost as long as you’ve known him, having met in a chance run in when he bumped into you on a night out with your friends, spilling your drink all down your dress. He offered you a new one, and soon you found yourself tumbling into a dangerous friendship with him that your heart always wanted to pull more out of. It was a bad idea, going home with him. It was something that was debatably far too intimate for two people who were supposed to be just friends. But you didn’t know that Auston harbored feelings of his own, and you didn’t know just how much he’d do to make your Christmas special.

Auston watched carefully as you set the mug down and snapped a picture, one that would later end up on Instagram for the world to see, captioned “there’s no snow but the view is great.” You flipped your phone back over, presumably hiding any potential interruptions from your time up on the roof. He took your pause as his moment to make his presence known, and he carefully opened the tall glass sliding door and stepped out onto the roof. You looked over at him before curling your feet underneath your legs to make space for him to sit.

“Are you okay?” He tentatively asked. You simply nodded and leaned your head on his shoulder, causing him to instinctively pull you closer into his body. It was almost terrifying how well he knew your mannerisms, each breath you took or movement gave away everything about how you were feeling. It scared him how well he could read you, but he paid attention because he cared. Auston knew this was about Christmas, and while didn’t know how to pull any of it off, he'd drive to Colorado and back if it meant bringing you a dusting of snow to the desert in December.

----------

The following afternoon, your mood had improved and the melancholic moment shared between you was nearly forgotten as you sat across from him at the small coffee shop. Auston had this ability to know your every emotion. He knew when you wanted to talk about what was bothering you and when you didn’t, and you appreciated that when you woke up the next day, he offered nothing other than a soft smile and asked if you’d like to check out this new small coffee place with him.

“I can’t believe you managed to get this much time off this season, normally you don’t even go home.” You hummed as you sipped on your drink. Auston held the door open for you as you walked out, the heat hitting your skin almost instantly as the loss of air conditioning from the shop became more apparent.

“I know, but it’s good.” He shrugged, offering no indication that there was any deeper meaning to that statement as he followed you out of the shop. The truth was that the extra time was much needed, as it gave him the perfect opportunity for an impulsive trip out of town that just might lift the mood you were so desperately trying to conceal.

You handed Auston your iced coffee for a moment so that you could toss up your hair. The sun was starting to beat down, heating up your skin and causing a light sweat.

“It’s too hot, how can you even be wearing that?” You gestured to his outfit, which in contrast to some of the clothes he normally wore, was relatively relaxed and normal. He was wearing black joggers and a dark t-shirt, with a light flannel on top. You were sweating just looking at it in comparison to the oversized Nike t-shirt you had stolen from him that morning, and your soft shorts. You couldn’t deny that it looked good on him though, and if it wasn’t so hot and you lived in a reality where you could act on your feelings, you wouldn’t mind tucking yourself right into his chest.

“Ah well, that’s because we’re not staying here.” He shrugged, shaking you out of your daydream and tugging you back toward his car. He laced his fingers in yours and it sent fluttering right to your chest. The simple display of affection was something that you were likely reading entirely too much into. But you didn’t care, because your brain was communicating chemicals of fondness that were being sent straight to your heart with the simple gesture, and you were going to let yourself enjoy it even if it ultimately didn’t actually mean anything substantial.

“What? Where are we going?” You asked. Auston just smiled nervously at you as he unlocked the car. He untangled his fingers from yours and walked to the driver’s side door, a sensation that you subtly frowned at.

“Uh, well I hope you don’t mind but…” His voice was muffled as he got into the driver's seat.

“But what, Auston?” You pressed.

“We may be going on a road trip.” He bit his lip slightly as your eyes went wide. He knew this was spontaneous, and maybe too much. But all he wanted was to see a smile on your face and if he had to spend all night looking up weather reports and finding a town that had a substantial amount of snow and drive you there, that was a task he was more than willing to do.

“To where? And why?” You laughed. Auston smirked at you as he started the car.

“This small town in the mountains in Colorado. We have a cabin, we’re bringing Felix, and there’s a ton of snow right now.” He smiled at you, watching out of the corner of his eye to see your reaction as you took in what he was saying. Your eyes widened and your heart rate quickened. You reached over the center console and grabbed his hand and slid your fingers through his once more.

“Thank you.” You whispered, hoping that the simple words could accurately depict just how appreciative you were of him. He pulled your hand up to his mouth, pressing a light kiss to the back of it and smiling at you once again. The adoration in his eyes was more than what a friend should show, but this entire trip was more than friendly, and you didn’t really care that you were setting your heart up for the inevitable disappointment you might face by the end of it, because you at least somewhat had Auston. He may have not been your boyfriend, you couldn’t kiss him whenever you wanted, or hold him beyond small gestures but he cared about you, probably more than he cared about most of his friends, and that was enough. So you packed a bag, loaded Felix into the car, and drove just over eight hours with him to spend a few days in the snow before Christmas.

----------

The first night you got there, the two of you were exhausted. You were so tired that you couldn’t even register the lines you were crossing as you climbed into bed next to him, Felix tucked securely under your feet. You were so tired that you didn’t question it when his arm came around your waist and slid just underneath the waist of the sweatshirt you were wearing. He was warm, and you felt safe, so you let yourself drift off to sleep without thinking of the emotional consequences of the romanticization of all of this.

The second night, Auston had insisted on another surprise for you. One that he was tight lipped about, but swore that you would love. All he told you was that you needed to dress warm and be ready to walk around. So, you threw on more layers than was probably necessary and let him lead you into town.

You grabbed onto his arm to not lose him. The crowd was larger than you’d expect for the small mountain town he had brought you to. Auston just pulled you in closer, wrapping an arm around you to tuck you safe and secure into his side. It was another simple gesture, adding to the annoying list in the back of your mind of things that Auston Matthews could do that caused a flutter in your stomach and slight heartache in your chest. But it was cold, and the gesture was one that made you feel calm and content as he led you further into the town.

The small town was quant, and reminded you of some picturesque stereotypical German town that went all out for the holidays. The Bavarian style cottages and buildings were all decorated with lights, and the snow on the roofs was a sight that made you smile even more as you kept walking. You were about to ask Auston where you were headed when suddenly the lights came into view. Your eyes went wide as you looked at the giant tree in the center of the town square, it was lit up with white lights and shiny, multicolored ornaments. Snow was settled into the branches and littered on the ground. You nearly cried when you realized where he had brought you.

“I can’t make it snow in Arizona, I can’t replicate the tree, but I found this place and thought it was pretty close.” He looked down as you with a subtle smile on his lips. You reached a hand up to his cheek, running your thumb along the stubble from where his beard was growing in, feeling his cheeks shift into a larger smile. He wrapped an arm further around your waist and pulled you into his chest. Auston looked at you like you were his entire world and his heart lurched in his chest at yet another grip you were securing on it. He wanted to lean down and kiss you. He wanted to walk through the door to your soul that he had been waiting behind for so long because for the first time, standing there with your hand on his cheek and you looking at him the way that you were, it felt like it was finally opening for him.

But the moment was fleeting and as your eyes scattered away from his and you stepped back, his heart dropped. Because in that moment he could almost see the intricate parts of your mind racing, probably regretting getting so close to him in the first place. He didn’t get to kiss you that night, but as you threw on his sweatshirt and crawled into bed next to him, letting your head fall onto his chest, he let himself wander back to the idea of your feelings being reciprocated. It was that feeling that left him softly smiling as he fell asleep.

----------

“I have one last surprise for this trip.” Auston came out into the kitchen. He stood behind you and reached an arm around to grab a mug, resting his other hand on your waist as he did so. You were growing almost too accustomed to the subtle touches shared on this trip, to falling asleep in his arms. You were in your own almost blissful world, and there was a part of you that had been thinking about taking the leap and kissing him. Because in this blissful world, reality didn’t exist. You weren’t going back to Arizona tomorrow, and you weren’t ultimately going back to Toronto to your separate apartments. In this reality, you could stay with Auston forever, without the pressures of everything that real life brought both of you.

“Do enlighten me on the latest Auston Matthews surprise experience, because I must say that I am enjoying it.” You teased, passing him the coffee pot that was in front of you. You spun around to face him and his smile grew. There was a soft glow to his smile and his eyes that had your heart racing even faster than it already was previously, and you bit your lip as you waited for a response.

“We’re going skating.” He grinned, a satisfactory laugh coming from him as he watched your eyes go wide and mouth hang open just slightly. You had only skated once in your life, and it was when you were seven. Your older brother had shoved you onto the ice and you tumbled, breaking your arm in the process. Ever since then, skating was the one fear you had, which was slightly ironic considering the person you were essentially in love with did it for a living.

“Auston… you know I don’t know how to skate.” You glanced over at him, his hand reassuringly came to rest on your hip, a soft squeeze that sent shivers running through your body at the contact. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and you nearly fell over. The line that the two of you were balancing on felt like it had been crossed with the intimacy of the kiss. It was a simple, quick, but tender kiss to the forehead, and it was rushing into your heart, causing it to react and demand more from him.

“Time to learn, babe.” He patted your hip and walked out of the kitchen. The disconnect from his body no longer pressed almost against yours was almost excruciating. You stood there in the kitchen for what felt like hours just replaying the moment in your mind. You were so focussed on how badly you wanted him that you didn’t even register the fear that you normally felt when it came to the idea of skating.

Later that afternoon, after resolving yourself to the fact that you were definitely not getting out of this surprise, and realizing that he even bought new skates for you, Auston led you through a snow-covered pathway on your way to the frozen lake. The walk was quiet, the only sounds coming from your feet crunching in the snow. As you got closer and the lake came into view, you were regretting leaving Felix at the cabin because he could have been a great excuse to use to get out of this.

Auston spotted a small bench and instructed you to sit down on it. He sat down beside you and lifted a leg into your lap, sliding the skate on and beginning to tie it securely for you. You watched as his hands moved, tightening the laces. When he was done with both skates, his hand slid up your shin, a soft reassuring smile on his face as he tapped your leg indicating that you needed to move so he could put on his own skates. You were starting to get more and more nervous as he finished lacing his up and grabbed your hands, helping you stand on the edge of the lake. Auston took a few steps backwards, guiding you to the very edge of the frozen lake. Your stomach dropped when he stepped out, the sound of skates hitting the ice shocking you back into the reality of what you were doing.

“No railing baby, you’ve got to hold onto me or accept that you might fall.” Auston teased as you stood at the edge of the lake. This felt like a disaster waiting to happen, a tragic ending to what would have been the cute cheesy skating scene in one of those terrible lifetime Christmas movies. You felt slightly ridiculous out there, but Auston didn’t see it that way. He saw this as another opportunity to help you have the best possible Christmas even if you were away from your family.

“You know.. what if I just sit here and watch you?” You offered, biting your lip as he skated to the edge of the lake. He positioned himself right in front of you and took your gloves hands in his, guiding you slowly onto the ice.

“I’ve got you, I won’t let you fall, okay?” He reassured you. If only he knew that falling on the ice was the least of your concerns when it came to the meaning of that word. Auston reached for your hand, silently lacing his fingers with yours as he guided you into taking your first step. You crashed into him, hands flailing into his chest as he laughed softly at you.

“It’s not funny!” You whined, grasping onto him as tightly as you could. Auston didn’t mind the contact, he wanted to be with you all the time, his heart carefully locked in your possession to keep, whether you knew it or not. If anyone told him that he’d have gone through all of this for a person who he wasn’t even dating, he would have laughed in their face. But you were different, and no matter how hard he tried to pretend you were just a friend, he knew he was potentially setting himself up for a shattered soul if you didn’t feel the same way that he did.

You let Auston guide you around the ice, his hands secure on your body to prevent you from falling. When he guided you off the ice, you sat straight down onto the same bench you had previously. Auston leaned in front of you, grabbing the back of the bench with his hands on either side of you. For a moment you let your mind drift, thinking about what it would be like to reach out and grab the strings tauntingly hanging from his sweatshirt and pulling him into you from where he was standing. You thought about how you could press your lips softly to his, reaching your hand through his hair to pull him closer into you. You felt your stomach in knots as you thought about kissing him, something you’d been wanting to do for a while, but never had the courage to, and it wasn’t until he waved a hand in front of your face that you realized you weren’t kissing him, it was just an image projected from your imagination as you sat there, wishing your feelings away so that you wouldn’t constantly be rejected in your own head.

----------

The two of you set off on the drive back to Scottsdale the next day, leaving behind the bliss of being unplugged and away from everyone for just a few days. The whole experience almost felt like a melatonin induced dream, the last three days spent with him. But as you settled back into the guest room in his Arizona house on Christmas Eve, your bed felt cold and empty without him.

Christmas day had come and was nearly over, and you smiled more than you thought that you would. It was weird how the short trip had changed your perspective over the whole holiday. You weren’t nearly as homesick as you had been. You were genuinely enjoying yourself, and felt like you belonged right where you were as you helped Ema in the kitchen with Christmas dinner. You felt a sense of ease finally about Auston, clarity slowly drifting from your heart to your brain about how you felt about him.

You had excused yourself after dinner to go up to the roof once more, just taking some time to let all of your feelings settle. The reality of going back to Toronto was starting to creep back in. Soon you would be home and back in the routine of the second half of the hockey season. Auston would go back to being gone all of the time, and you would go back to work, the fleeting feelings you were experiencing would pass, and you’d get back to the place that you had been before where you were content with him just being your friend.

Auston however, had different hopes for the last few hours of this short escape from Toronto. He loved his job, he loved his teammates and the city, but he’d be lying to everyone and himself if he didn’t admit that you were one of his favorite parts of the whole thing. He lit up whenever he’d see you in the crowd, the same old Maple Leafs beanie you had since your high school days adorned on your head. You fit seamlessly into his life in every single way except for the most important one, and he had enough of it. This week spent with you had shown him that he needed to be honest. He needed to release his heart from the weight of his own growing feelings for you, and there were moments where he truly thought that you were going to catch it. He needed to take the chance, he might explode if he didn’t.

The gift was entirely too much, it was too sentimental, too heartfelt, too every other adjective in the dictionary for the word much, and Auston knew that. He knew that this gift sealed any chance at keeping his feelings opaque, the transparency of the glass felt like a metaphor for a window into his own heart. But he didn’t care. He didn’t care that it was too much, all he wanted was for the horribly wrapped confession to somehow be enough for you. Auston took a deep breath as he held the box, the one that Bre had helped him wrap just the night previously. You were up on the roof, sitting peacefully as you watched the sunset over the skyline. The palm trees and dry terrain are vastly different than what you were used to in December. It was almost like you had a sixth sense he was behind you because he swore he felt his heart drop into his stomach when you turned your head just enough, showing a warm and soft smile as he tentatively stepped toward you.

You were in one of his sweatshirts and your hair was up, a look that in all your years of knowing each other he never got tired of. You were everything to him, and he had been so sure about how he felt about you right from the beginning. But, you weren’t ready. At the time you had just had a bad breakup, your heart was tucked in a locked box in your chest, no hope of it being unlocked by anyone else for a long time. But, a long time had been coming, and now that you were here, in Arizona, in his sweatshirt, smiling at him, he could only hope that you would at least consider giving your heart to him.

Auston stepped out onto the roof again, a familiar feeling settling into his chest from just a few days prior. You lifted your eyes up to meet his, this time a genuine smile adorning your lips as the moon and small patio light lit up your face. He sat down next to you once again, handing you the small, wrapped gift that he had been holding.

“I have one last surprise for you.” He quietly spoke.

You took the box in your hands and you slowly unwrapped the gift. You set the paper down under your thigh and pulled out the small snow globe, letting it feel heavy in your hands. Your fingers traced over the details, the fetched mountains in the glass and the hint of green pointing through the white snow. It was a simple gift, something plucked straight out of a bad holiday movie, but you didn’t care because it came from him, and the thought behind it was better than any tangible gift he could have bought for you.

“Turns out, snow is very hard to come by around here.” He smiled down at you. You looked at Auston with a new perspective filling your mind, you noticed all of the things about him that you were blissfully ignoring before for the sake of guarding your own heart and hiding your own feelings. You knew his eyes softened when he looked at you, you just chose not to see it until now.

“Auston-“ you started, but his eyes shifted as he spoke. His entire speech was tossed off the side of the roof, he was going with his gut here. He was going to tell you how he felt, because he simply couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“This is probably the worst time for this. And you deserve better than some shitty rooftop confession on Christmas. But, I like you. I like you so much, I have probably since shortly after we met, and I know I didn’t make snow fall like I promised, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you. How badly I want to kiss you, how badly I want to just say that I love you all the time.”

“Auston, you talk too much.” You smiled at him. Everything felt warm, and it wasn’t just because of the slight heat in the air, or his body closely hovering above yours. You were warm because you loved him, a concept that you weren’t expecting yet somehow ended up prepared for.

“Well, I’ll shut up and kiss you, then.” He teased, smiling into a soft kiss. Your hand tangled in his hair, and your eyes fluttered closed as you melted into him.

“Oh, and I love you too.” You smiled as you leaned in to kiss him once more. Sure it wasn’t Toronto. It wasn’t that blissful three days in the mountains. There weren’t lights or trees or snow or anything that you’d traditionally associate with December 25th, but you had Auston in exactly the way that you had wanted him for a long time, and somehow that was better than all of it combined.

#auston matthews #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #8 weeks of christmas #hockey imagine #hockey fic #auston matthews x reader

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pollyrepents · 3 years

Text

skin to skin

Warnings: Descriptions of OCD-like tendencies including food and aftermath and miscarriage.

Summary: Michael’s wife is dodging him and fretting over more than one loss.

Word Count: 2k (I got a little carried away)

A/N: There’s no real moment in time this is set. Michael’s just old enough to be married to the reader and having a child wouldn’t have completely ruined their plans.

He had seen it in Polly first. The rituals, the lighting and blowing out candles, the tablets and the drinking to slow it all down. He was young when it happened the first time, right after his father passed. She was coping, he supposed now as he thought back, with the loss and the idea of two kids on her own added to her brother’s litter as extra being her responsibility. It had scared her and she needed control and peace any way she could get it. John and Arthur would take him out onto the lane when her fits would become worrisome, they would kick a ball around with him and the other neighborhood kids until Tommy came to get them, their Uncle Charlie having helped settle his mother with strong whiskey and a shouting match the kids were better off not hearing.

He understood the want of control, the craving for power over something too big for the palms of his hands.

He had no reason to think you’d be the same.

That night in the bar, your dress hugging your curves and glittering in the poor lighting of the pub, he had fallen head over heels. He hadn’t shown it—Isiah assumed it was lust and he was bringing you back to his apartment for stress relief that never failed him and would bring you back with a little blue glass vial of snow in your purse—but he had fallen swiftly and freely and wanted just you in that bar and everyone else out on the street.

It was a game of cat and mouse. You knew he was a Shelby although he introduced himself as a Gray, and you knew any wrong move or sharp words could have you cut. You strung him along but Michael refused to relent, countering every one of your wise cracks with quick retorts of his own. Only when he took you out for a smoke, did you notice his freckles in the shining street light and his self assured smirk slipped into a boyish smile without his permission. You fell faster than you would have liked, in honesty.

Now, as he stood at the doorway of your shared bathroom, he listened to you whimper as you worked the soap in your hands up into a lather. He could smell the lavender and peppermint in the air the same way he smelt it on you when he would lift your hand to kiss your knuckles.

“Are you nearly done?”

You started at the sound of his voice, turning your head back for a brief moment before rinsing off your hands.

“I didn’t know you were home.” You tugged the towel off the rack, rubbing the soft cotton over your painted fingernails first. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

Michael nodded, blowing a breath out through his nose slowly. “I thought you were in the bath.”

“I had one earlier.”

“A soak to relax?” He hummed as you passed him by, your path to the vanity quick and with intention. “One of your lavish baths with hot water and bubbles like a child?”

“After all you put me through today I deserve one.” He watched your two fingers unscrew the cap to the small lotion bottle, capping the glass with your thumb before twisting your wrist, swirling the lotion. Four turns around and you pull your manicured thumb away, turning your hand over to spill out a thin line of product onto the back of it to the tip of your middle finger, a small line crossing over the back from right to left.

“Let me,”He offered abruptly, a hand reaching out for yours. “After all I put you through today, I could help you relax.” The way you only glanced up at him before shaking your head and rubbing your hands together stuck with him.

“You’ll only smell like me. What businessman should smell like lavender?” You scolded quietly as you worked the lotion into your skin with your hands low close to your lap, paying special care to your knuckles. They had become tender with the heat of the water, the small splits over your knuckles and the sides of your palms surely burned with the product and the added attention from Michael.

“One that loves his wife.” He placed his hands on your shoulders as you worked the lotion in, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles, “A kept man.”

You laughed lightly and Michael felt the corner of his lips turn upward. “A kept man?”

“I’ve come back here night after night, I think that’s qualified me as kept if all else hasn’t.”

“A ring qualifies me as kept.”

He stopped himself from rolling his eyes at your reminder, placing his hands on the vanity on each side of you, caging you in. The way your shoulders regained the tension he thought he pushed away made him want to question you, break apart every fear or stressor you had and throw them into the Cut, never to be seen again.

“I’ve told you I’ll replace the ring as soon as I can find a jeweler who knows what he’s doing.” He tilted his head down slightly to rest his forehead against yours. “I won’t have you wearing a shit ring. Not from me, not my love. Even if you lost the first one like a teenager.”

You closed your eyes—to avoid his gaze, he was sure of it, and took a deep breath. “I’m starting to think you don’t want me wearing a ring of yours again—”

“We took vows.” Michael’s voice was soft when he cut you off, his words were certain. “Every morning too. I love you, I tell you every morning, don’t I?”

“I’m never sure you’ll come home at night.” You muttered, turning your head away from him. “So you-”

“I promise you every morning.”He spoke softly as you did, moving to press his lips to yours. His lips met your cheek when you turned your head again but he took it in stride, placing delicate kisses from your cheek to your ear. “I will get you the ring. I just hope you don’t let this one slip off.”

Michael leaned back again, testing the waters and leaning forward to kiss you. He stopped as he felt your hip bump against his hand, lifting his hand from the wood of your vanity to let you slip away. Your hands stayed planted on your chest, your palms flat against your collar bones as you walked over to the window. He turned his head only slightly, pushing one of your perfume bottles out of the neat line they were arranged in. From the corner of his vision in the reflection of the mirror he watched you tilt your head to the side, wiping where he had placed kisses onto your skin away as if it soiled your skin.

The pretending stopped in that moment. “What was that?”

“What was what?” You sounded oblivious to his question, he noted the ways your fingers twitched against your skin, imagining you craved the water washing the little bit of him off of you as soon as he had touched you.

“You react to your own lies, my love.” His gaze did not waver, trying to persuade you to meet his eyes. “Don’t ever play cards with Isiah. It won’t end in your favor.”

Your eyes shifted from the window to his for a brief second and he quirked an eyebrow when you looked past him to analyze the perfumes again. “Don’t move my things, Michael. I’ve asked you a hundred times to leave them alone.”

“It’s just a bottle.” He pushed it back to its almost rightful position, although still slightly off from where you had it.

“It was mine, I had it in the right place.” The sharpness to your tone made Michael brace himself, waiting to be pushed aside.

Michael stood his ground as you marched over, your fingers etched with narrow slits where your skin had broken twisting the bottle back to its rightful place. “It shouldn’t bother you that terribly.”

“It was in its place, Michael.” Your fingers curled and uncurled around nothing and you brought your hands in front of you, making a steeple of your fingers and holding your wrists against your stomach, pressing into the softness there.

Tentative, Michael reached his hands toward yours. He saw the beginnings of an objection, your eyebrows raising and your lips parting, he refused to hear it. He linked your fingers, pulling you close in front of him until your fronts were pressed together. He knew you wanted to squirm the way you always did when he looked at you closely “too fucking close to be normal” in your words, your toes wriggling against your stockings and jaw tensing as you stared at his eyebrows.

“I know every part of you.”

“Michael-”

“Every part. You think you’re still hiding things. Keep thinking that if it helps you, Y/N.” Michael’s hands came up to gently cup your face, holding you with the care he would use for Polly’s china. “But all of this, the constant washing, and the straightening and the picking at food only comes after big stuff. You never let me touch you after the big stuff. You haven’t let me kiss you in ages.”

“Talk to me, my love.” You bit your lips together and Michael’s thumb came down softly to push against your chin. “Talk to your husband, please.”

You cleared your throat once, twice, three times, and your voice still broke as you whispered to him. “I bled last week, Michael. It was heavy.”

Michael nodded once in almost understanding, knowing how your aversion then strong desire for his touch towards the beginning and end of your bleeding, especially the particularly bad ones. You tore your eyes from his and Michael ducked his head slightly to pull your gaze back to him. “That’s not it. What’s got you like this? What is it?”

“No.” You looked at him again and your eyes were wet with tears. “Polly-- your mum-”

“My mum caused this?” His eyebrows pulled together and he looked toward the ground, a thousand things running through his head at what Polly could have snapped at you with in a moment of misplaced rage. “What did she say?”

Your hands came up to hold his face this time, Michael’s dropping to your waist. Instinctively, he began to rub gentle lines down the marks he knew decorated your skin under the fabric of your slip.

“My bleed wasn’t-” You choked on your words and Michael let you tuck yourself into his chest, his arms coming around to hold you to him. “It was a child, Michael. Polly told me I was with child.” Your words began to rush out as the blood in his veins ran cold.

“I was with child, and then I wasn’t, and I couldn’t find a moment to tell you that I was or wasn’t and now-”

“It’s alright,” His hands stroked down your hair, stopping to play with the tight curls at the nape of your neck. “It’s alright, my love.”

“She said it was-”

“It’s not.” He forced the words out, bile stinging the back of his throat. “It’s gone now. It’s alright, just us. We’re alright, Y/N.”

“I just-I feel like I’m still dirty from it.” You whimpered, twisting your fingers at the knuckle with your thumb and forefinger. “I can’t get clean from it. If I can’t get clean from it, you might find another woman.”

“You weren’t dirty from anything.” He pressed his lips against the crown of your head as he spoke, doing his best to take in your scent. “You’ll never be dirty, my love.”

“She-she sai-”A hiccup cut you off and his hold tightened, bringing one of his hands down to find yours and bring it up to his chest while you stammered. “She said it was-was a b-boy. A son, M-Mi-Michael.”

He took a deep breath, squeezing your trembling hand as he did so. “We’ll have a son. We’ll have another son.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat, trying his best to blink back tears.

You pulled back, placing your trembling hands on either side of his face. He cupped the back of your head, pulling your forehead to his and shutting his eyes as the tears began to fall. His voice trembled as your hands did against his skin, “We’re alright, my love. We’re alright.”

#michael gray #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #michael gray angst #angst #written by me #polly gray #michael gray x reader #michael gray x you #michael gray x y/n #michael grey x reader #hey look its not a hozier inspired fic #this is partly me coping partly me having gotten carried away

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erricdraven · 3 years

Note

ooooh okay 11 recovering from an illness/injury + T secret relationship + 34 “Is that blood?” pretty please ❤❤❤❤

i was immediately inspired by this and i hope it does your request justice! thank you lovely! x

READ ON AO3

If Alec were a different person, he wouldn’t be in this situation at all. It didn’t do any good to think such things, but he did.

If it weren’t for his secret relationship with Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn, he wouldn’t have been on his way to a clandestine dinner date on the other side of town. If he hadn’t been on his way across town for dinner, he wouldn’t have come across the pack of rabid hellhounds. And if he hadn’t come across the pack of rabid hellhounds, he would never have ended up leaning against the locked doors of Nightingale Towers bleeding profusely from a particularly deep wound in his side.

Fumbling for the call button with a blood-slick hand, he managed to press the one emblazoned with “PH1” in delicate gold print. For a few seconds, there was silence.

“Fuck,” Alec exhaled, swaying on his feet from the horrible combination of exhaustion and dizziness washing over him.

He hadn’t actually thought about what he would do if Magnus couldn’t help him; now it seemed totally idiotic not to have come up with a plan B. After all, to Magnus it must have appeared that Alec had stood him up only a week after an argument in which Magnus had accused him of being unwilling to make time for their relationship. If he ended up having to drag himself to the subway, he would only have thirty minutes to come up with a believable explanation as to why he had snuck out late in the evening without telling a soul to go to some dive in Queens.

Suddenly, Magnus’ voice crackled through the speaker. “Who is it?”

“Magnus, it’s me.”

A terse sigh echoed in the vestibule. “Is there something you want, shadowhunter?”

Even just shifting his weight to make for the door made Alec feel as though he very well might pass out. “Look, I know you’re pissed at me and maybe in a way I deserve it, but I—” The low whoosh of a portal opening interrupted him, materializing next to him. With the little bit of strength he could muster, Alec half-stepped, half-fell through it. His legs buckled beneath him when he landed on the pristine carpet of the loft, and he errantly hoped he hadn’t stained it.

“You couldn’t be bothered to call, yet you—” Magnus trailed off abruptly, and Alec forced himself to look up at him even as his vision swam. He looked disappointed. And angry. But once their eyes met, both dissipated to be replaced by shock. “Is that blood?”

Alec tried to answer but all that came out was some kind of incoherent murmur, and he felt his body tipping forward as the floor rushed up to meet him.

When next he opened his eyes, Magnus was leaning over him with a look of consternation as pale blue pulses of magic emanated from his palms. His necklaces spilled over Alec’s chest, a cold brush along his now bare sternum. “Hey,” he managed to rasp.

“Shh.” Magnus spared him only a glance, his gaze soft with sympathy that Alec almost felt guilty to be the intended recipient of. “You need to lie still for me, Alexander.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but ultimately held his tongue until Magnus had secured gauze over the raw but healing skin. “I’m sorry I missed our date. It wasn’t intentional; I swear on the Angel, Magnus.”

Pursing his lips, Magnus finally sat back and looked at him. Alec couldn’t swallow down the lump that rose in his throat at the sadness that softened his eyes and turned down the corners of his mouth.

From the first time he laid eyes on Brooklyn’s esteemed high warlock, Alec was enchanted. At first, it didn’t occur to him to be concerned that the man in question was a downworlder, that he was a man at all. It didn’t occur to him that this was someone with a reputation that preceded him, and spanned lifetimes. It didn’t even occur to him that he was the furthest thing from qualified to speak about feelings. All he knew was that his heart was beating hard enough that it might break his rib cage apart and he couldn’t care less so long as he didn’t have to look away just yet.

He should have known better than to think he could endeavor to have anything so exquisite.

“I was on my way to meet you when I got ambushed by rabid hellhounds. I tried to call you but the battery was dead, so it was all I could do to get here, to you. I’m sorry, Magnus, I didn’t know what else to do. Maybe I should have just—”

“I’m not mad that you missed dinner tonight,” Magnus cut him off softly. “I’m very glad you made it here in one piece. It certainly made my job easier. With some rest and being responsible about your activity, you’ll be good as new in a few days.” Standing up, he made for the drinks cart and skimmed his hands, caked in dried blood, over a few glass decanters before choosing one.

Alec hesitated for a moment, sitting up against the arm of the couch gingerly. “But you’re upset.” Magnus made no move to reply, instead downing three fingers of whiskey in one swallow and leaving the ice to clink against the bottom of the glass. “We don’t have to do this to each other, Magnus. I know that I started it, so maybe it’s my job to be the hypocrite. You take a step forward and I take a step back; you move to follow and I walk away. It…it fucking sucks.”

“God help me, I care for you. Very deeply, Alexander,” Magnus exhaled shakily.

“But I’m—”

“For better or worse, I lo—I feel inexorably connected to you,” he continued as though Alec hadn’t spoken at all. The taught lines of Magnus’ back made appear as a man made of marble. And he felt just as unreachable to Alec. “And this is what you are. Being a shadowhunter will always be your priority, and I respect that you have made your decision to continue down that path, but it’s not one where I can follow alongside you. I can’t be happy only seeing you when a lie is convenient and buys you some time, or when you’re beaten half to death and I’m left with your blood on my hands. I very well might love you, angel, and in another life maybe it would be enough, but we don’t have the luxury of a simple solution.”

Feeling his throat start to close as he fought back tears, Alec forced himself to his feet and took a few steps towards Magnus. His hands, always so steady whether they wielded a blade or an arrow, or grew mottled with bruises blooming dark beneath his skin, were now trembling and there was nothing he could do to stop. It felt as though he were walking towards the precipice of a vast chasm that was ready to swallow him whole, and the longer Magnus’ words hung over them like a dark cloud, the closer he got to falling in head first.

“I was scared,” Alec blurted out. It wasn’t exactly where he had intended to start, but at this point, it hardly mattered. “I was scared that if I made room for someone in my life, in my…in my heart too, that then what I’ve been running from for so long would catch up to ruin everything. I’ve never been as close to happy as I am with you, and I know the minute I let this become anything more than some kind of stupidly perfect life I’ve built up in my head, it wouldn’t be safe anymore. That’s something I should have been honest with you about, though, and I see that now. I—I’m sorry.”

“Alec—”

Holding up a hand, he continued. “If I don’t say all of this now, I’m going to lose my nerve and I don’t know if I could live with the consequences. Look, Magnus, you were right to be frustrated with me, and I’m mad at myself too. But if it’s not too late, if you can still find it in your heart to give me a chance to make this right, I would do anything to deserve it.”

For a few agonizing moments, Magnus expression was unreadable. And then he spoke.

“I hear relationships take effort.”

Alec inclined his head slightly, a tentative smile starting to play at his lips. “I’m all for effort.”

>> PROMPT LIST

#cuubism #malec #shfanficnexus #bytheangell #sharona1x2 #thatnerdemeryn #shadowhunters #alec lightwood #magnus bane #otp: we always seem to find our way back to each other #mywriting

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viledreamer420 · 3 years

Text

Matt asked if i would stay the night and i told him I'd my moon said i could i would. The rest of the day we ran around being boys we was going inside seeing what nicole was up to now than normal.

We rode our bikes across the little country town to my house so i could ask if i could stay. My mom said it was ok because it was Friday so no school. I gave her a hug and we both rode as fast as we could back to matts.

Nicole was still there and informed us mr. Johnson would be late from work, and dinner was almost done so we needed to entertain matts sister.

We went upstairs and into Beth's room i was first in the door and was a bit turned on as Beth was currently completely naked as she was removing a one piece bathing suit to try on another.

I was feeling lucky soaking in Beth's tanned body seemingly void of any lines! She was a petite girl she had just begun growing and as such her tits were flat though her nipples were puffy, her body was so sexy though her tummy flat and toned her legs skinny and thus created a thigh gap i could clearly view her smooth pussy through.

I was only a second before she yelled and quickly covered herself but I'll never forget how she looked, Matt came in while my jaw was dropped as i stared away at Beth he laughed at her telling her to pick one out already!

Beth looked at me as she asked "which one do you like best?" In a girly tone. I looked at her swimsuits on her bed occasionally scanning there one she held as she covered herself. I spotted a purple and black once piece i remembered her once wearing like 2 years ago "this one i really think you would look perfect in it" i smiled handing it to her.

She smiled at me before dropping the suit in her hands and slowly stepping into the purple one. I felt myself start to twitch as she pulled the swimsuit on i was 3 sizes to small for her but she managed to pull it on.

I smiled as i looked her up and down! Her suit clung to her pussy and dove into her little ass. Her hard nips poked her suit up making then look so perky and nice.

"I'm going to the river to cool off" Beth told us as she grabbed a towel and asked us to come too. Beth lead the way to Nichole in the kitchen Beth talked for a minute before she said "let's go to the river then"

I fell a few steps back just to admire Beth's tiny ass walking inches from reach. Before long Matt had marched ahead barely to be seen now that dark was closer. Beth however slowed down allowing me to catch up beside her.

She would brush her hand along mine or skim my leg as we walked allways excusing herself when she did. I started timing her arm and before she hit my hand i held onto hers Ann's wer walked holding hands until we got to where the woods were

We still had to walk on the trails through the woods fore about half a mile before even seeing the river. The forest was real dark as we made our way through the winding pathways that intertwined like a maze in the dark woods.

I felt her hand tighten as night time animals scurried around slightly scaring Beth! She almost pulled me over as an owl swooped past her and she jumped into my arms. I grabbed her and scooped her petite body up holding her tight to me.

I laughed a little from her reaction and said something about safety in my arms squeezing her again. I walked a fair distance holding her like a baby in my arms.

She was light to hold and my hand was perfectly cupped onto her ass cheek and i felt when she wiggled her ass into my palm. I got to a small clearing in there woods that had a fire pit and an old tent us kids would use when we stayed out for a night or two.

I set Beth on her feet in front of me. "River is getting closer give me a second to catch my breath" i said acting winded. I remembered there was a blanket in the old tent and I went over top grab it i was happy someone left a sleeping bag as well.

I laid out the sleeping bag and blanket making a soft area to sit or lay back, I once finished laid back looking up at the stars and flashing back through the day as i did i felt my cock twitch as i got hard.

Beth continued asking her seemingly innocent questions occasionally asking about her bathing suit or something in regards to seeing her naked in her room.

Then she got bolder! Asking about Nicole and if I'd seen her naked, what were we doing in her dad's room? Why Nicole was moaning then yelling? I was straight up about all of it then i asked my own questions.

I asked her about boys she saw, I asked her if she liked me seeing her naked body, I told her I had seen Nichole nude as well. Beth looked into my eyes and asked who i liked seeing best. I admitted that i wasn't sure as i had a much closer and longer look at Nicole's body than hers.

I honestly spilled everything about what went on in her dad's room. I felt Beth's hands slide over my body rubbing my cock through my shorts. She gasped as my cock swelled in her hands. "Can I well ummm you know see what it looks like? " she asked as her fingers danced all over it.

I shook my head yes in excitement as I puked my shorts off one leg at a time. I pulled my briefs down slowly exposing my 7 inch cock to my friends little sister! Her face was showing how excited she was to see my cock up close.

She instinctively grabbed it tight in her small hand looking at me for input I placed my hand over hers slowly beginning to stroke myself with her hand. I let go of her hand moaning as she continued without guidance.

"Kiss me please Beth, I want to feel you're lips on mine" I pleaded licking my lips, Beth smiled leaning in to kiss my lips never stopping her stroking hand. Her lips touched mine making me moan again.

Her lips were so soft and her lip gloss tasted like strawberries, i felt her lips open slightly, i slipped my tongue through her open lips into her mouth and felt more aroused as her tongue rubbed in synch with mine.

My hand rubbed her back gently tracing along the to small swimsuit gliding down her sides then up on to her small ass squeezing them before giving her a backside a slap.

"Ohh yes what else can I do?" Beth cooed in between kisses. "You should kiss my cock Beth! That's what your wanting isn't it?" I whispered into her ear. I stripped the swimsuit off of her tiny body kissing her all over stopping at her mouth i licked her lips and guided her head down until i felt her breath surround my dick.

Again instinct took over as she licked around my cock like a melting popsicle! I spun her body until her pussy was before my eyes as she worked my cock into her mouth, I inhaled deep smelling the aroma she made before my tongue lapped away at her perfect tasty pussy.

I heard her start moaning how good i was making her feel, that she didn't want me to stop. Then i felt her swallow my cock as her hips buckled down on my face, she was cumming hard abs she tasted Devine.

I told her to stop sucking me off. She looked confused and hesitated as she wanted me to cum for her. I had another idea, I laid her back in the makeshift bed I got between her legs holding her open i dropped my cock onto her puffy mound coating it with her juices as i rocked my hips making my cock slide between her lips.

Once i felt her legs spread further I pushed the head of my cock inside her pumping her tight hole deeper inch by inch. "Oww it hurts but feels so good!" Beth moaned out loud.

I went harder deeper faster, Beth was bucking her hips telling me to fuck her like Nicole, telling me how she watched through the crack in the door as i hammered the babysitter, and now she needed it too.

I grabbed her tiny ankles holding them high and apart as I fucked Beth's petite body like I did Nicole's earlier. Beth was better tighter tastier smoother and Beth would cum lots more.

We laid there and we fucked once more before we finally went to the river. Matt hadn't even noticed we were missing as he was catching up with two girls abs a boy we'd all gone to school with.

We jumped in cooling off Beth would swim between my legs to touch me or she would be resting beside me holding my hand inside her tight suit as I fingered her to orgasm.

Before long we headed back to Matt's to stay in for the night. His dad's truck was parked in the driveway as we got there.

Next: night at Matts house

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parkerlyn · 4 years

Note

how would the ROs react if MC showed up at their bedroom door in the middle of the night hugging a pillow and looking for comfort after a nasty nightmare? bonus if MC's normally tough and doesn't scare easily ❤️ please bless us with some fluff 💕

Nightmares you say? 👀

(tw for brief blood and death because this got away from me and turned into drabbles. Written in the who-will-admit-to-the-feelings-first stage, and as if everyone’s uhhh staying at the same inn? Sleepover at The Lucky Albatross for [insert reason here]? haha. And thank you both for the ask! ❤️This really helped me kickstart my writing again after hitting a bit of a block 💖💖)

Sweat clings to your forehead as your eyes snap open, clammy cold jittering from the base of your skull and slamming down between your shoulder blades. Pressing your eyes closed again, you narrow your consciousness to your breaths, mind solely focused on the rising of your chest.

In. Out.

Blood gurgling from swollen lips, a hand clutching at dirt with a shiver. They look to you, pleading, wanting, no strength left to form the words you know would be their last.

In.

You stare helplessly as they collapse into the red already soaking into the ground, finally succumbing to the wound that’s pierced through their ribs.

You watch their body deflate in an exhale before stillness takes over.

Out.

Back in your bed, your fingers grip at the sheets around you in frustration and you sit up with a scoff.

No paradise and verdant fields tonight it seems, only nightmares. And in a cruel twist of fate of course, nightmares about someone who’s taken up more of your thoughts than you’re comfortable admitting.

You know you’re all safe. Your magic is strong enough to reach out and feel the comforting (comforting?) presence of all the people you expect in the rooms around you.

But you’re already up, securing the glamor, watching your mortalis form take shape.

You need to know for sure. Need to know that this isn’t some cruel illusion. Need to know their heart still beats, can beat, will beat in time with yours.

You find yourself...

---

The Healer:

...at the Healer’s door, hand hovering over the wood before you let your knuckles fall against it with a faint knock. There’s no response at first, and you curse under your breath for this moment of weakness, before you hear shuffling on the other side.

It goes quiet, and despite your self-chastising, you find your hand has already knocked again. Another magic reaches out cautiously before you can feel their guard drop, the door opening soon after.

Guilt flickers in your thoughts when you see them, golden eyes darkened with sleep above the disheveled open neckline of their nightshirt, warmth radiating from their exposed skin. They blink a few times before they fully come to terms with the fact that it’s you standing in front of them, the realization apparent when their eyes widen with clarity.

“I had a nightmare,” you explain, the words spilling out into the silence. “You...you died.”

The statement takes a few more seconds than usual for them to process, before their eyes soften and they step to the side to invite you into their room. The smell of cedarwood grazes against you as you pass, and you have to resist the urge to turn towards the source along their bare neck.

Once the Healer pinches fire alight on a couple candles, they ease you over to a chair near their bed.

“Ah- wherever you want to sit.” They murmur, voice laced with sleep. “I know the inn’s chairs aren’t exactly built for comfort.” They scratch at the back of their head and stay standing.

Watching their reaction for a moment, you decide to sit at the foot of the bed, where the covers are only mildly disturbed. The mattress sinks under your weight as you leave your legs hanging over the side, the balls of your feet pressed into the floor. Soon after making sure you seem settled enough, the Healer makes to sit in the chair instead.

But your body reacts first, reaching out without thinking to grab at their wrist, to stop them from moving farther away. To be able to feel them, tangible and real.

They swing their face to you when your hands connect, and you know they’ve felt the shiver run through your fingers. Whether from the lingering sight of their blood staining the ground, or from the static in the touch between you, you’re not sure.

Judging from the worry lining their brow, you’d guess they’re reading the former.

Within the space of a few seconds, their arms are around you with a hand firmly planted at the back of your neck, enveloping you in an embrace.

“I’m here,” says the voice in your ear, the vibration in their chest grounding you through their body.

It’s only then that you can feel what they’ve seen, your body shaking and swaying in the terror that crept into your limbs.

Fabric twists between your knuckles as you clutch at their back and bury your face into the crook of their neck while they squeeze tighter. The warm earthy scents from before fill your senses completely.

“I’m here.”

---

The Magesmith:

...at the Magesmith’s door, but you can’t quite bring yourself to knock. There’s a faint light trickling out from the loose parts of the door’s frame, and you can tell that they’re still awake. That should be enough, you can feel their magic through the door, clearly alive, clearly still there. It should be enough.

But it’s not.

You register the sound of the knock before you realize that you’re responsible for the echo in the hall, followed by the realization that it’s too late to retreat as the Magesmith opens the door.

With their headband discarded and the glowing light of the hearth’s fire, their dark auburn hair falls against their face in a gentle, haloed wave.

“You-” they start with a cocked eyebrow, before seeing the sheen of sweat across your forehead. “What are you doing here? What’s going on?”

You stare at them for another moment, reassuring your senses that it is in fact them. No illusion, just them in all their slightly sour-faced glory.

“Nightmare,” you respond softly, the Magesmith leaning in just a hair to hear you.

“Nightmare?”

The question comes across more tenderly than you would have expected from them, a sudden shift from the previous questions. It’s the first time the two of you have been alone in a long while, and the sudden awareness of this leads your gaze over their barely parted lips and across their sleeveless arms, the various smithing burns and scars writing shimmering stories over their skin.

“I, uh...” You sigh. “Nevermind, it’s fine,” you finally spit out, turning towards your room again.

“No, wait, please-” The Magesmith reaches for you but pulls their hand back at the last second. They smother the desperation in their voice and instead try to read your features for an answer to the questions they don’t want to admit they’re thinking.

Why me? Why did you come to me?

You watch them swallow the thoughts, lips pressed together as they look away.

“You...” Deep brown eyes snap back to your face at the sound of your voice, waiting for you to form the words. “You died. I watched you die and I wanted...I don’t know what I wanted. To see if you were alright?” You cringe at the words as they flow out and turn from the Magesmith’s scrutiny again.

Though you’re looking at the floor, you see them bring their hand to scratch idly above their prosthetic arm.

“Did I at least put up a fight?”

Jerking your head up in disbelief, you level them with a stare only to be met with genuine interest, and the faintest smile tugging at the corner of their mouth. In the odd situation, you can’t help but let out a short, crisp laugh.

“You can come in, if you want,” they whisper tentatively, as you feel the unease evaporating off of you. “Waiting for the fire to die down anyway.”

It takes you a moment to respond, the silhouette of flames dancing between you and them.

“I’d like that.”

---

The Sage:

...at the Sage’s door, clenching and unclenching your fists as you still try to shake off the residual images ingrained into your vision. Eventually you steel your nerves to knock, the sound as loud as thunder along the still hallway.

You hear a quiet hum on the other side of the door, followed by a soft “Just a minute,” and what you can assume is the Sage stumbling from the comfort of their bed to greet you.

This was stupid, that’s plenty of confirmation, you shouldn’t- but they’re already at the door, easing it open while gently rubbing a knuckle into the corner of their eye.

Worry shapes their face almost instantly when they register that it’s you, and they immediately survey the hall for a sign of any dangers. Content that there isn’t anything threatening your safety, they turn their entire focus back.

“Are you alright?” Their hand twitches as if it wants to reach out to you but they restrain themself. Looking into their eyes, the flecks of topaz in hazel are brilliant even in the dim night lighting, and you force yourself to rein in your staring before you fall in further.

“Just...just a nightmare,” you eventually respond, matching their hushed tones. You can feel them exploring your features, unsure of what to do.

They decide though, as you feel fingertips barely float above your shoulder, before their hand commits to giving you a light squeeze.

“Please come in?” they ask, easily reading what you’re hoping for. You nod and follow them inside.

With ease, they charge the crystal lantern into a faint golden glow, and let the fire curl off their fingers as the spell politely moves around you to swirl into the hearth. A healthy fire builds in the small fireplace and they take a seat down at the bench in front of it, offering the space next to them. Gladly, you take it, pressing your palms into the edge of the wood while watching the flames grow.

They’re happy enough sitting in silence, turning from the fire to you and then back. But it drags on longer than intended and you give a small sigh.

“It was you. I watched you die, and I couldn’t do anything.”

You hear the sharp intake of breath from beside you, and know that their eyes are focused on you now. You wring your hands together, still trying to shake off the icy grip of the hellscape you awoke from.

Carefully, gingerly, their hands come into view as they surround yours with theirs, the cold of your fingers sending small goosebumps racing up their arm. But they hold fast, letting the warmth of a small muted spell ease into your skin. Their palms glow as they run their hands over your wrists and your fingers, the heat reeling you fully into the present.

The motion continues, and you can feel the strain melting off as the heat inches up your arm. Sensing you relax, if only just slightly, they smile.

“Better?”

“Better.”

They keep a hold of your hands even when the spell ends.

---

Oisein:

...at Oisein’s door, and you barely rap your knuckles against the wood before it’s already open, lavender mortalis irises staring at you with concern. In the haze of your fervor to find them you missed that their magic was already reaching out to you, because of course it was, reading your nerves and your fear.

They give a tentative half smile. “I’d say you’re going to cause a scandal sneaking around like this, but...” They stop, deciding whether or not to gauge you again before you feel their pathos magic retreat. “You okay?”

“I had a nightmare,” you say, avoiding their gaze.

“What, really?” Some of the tension disappears from their face and they sigh with relief, a teasing smirk on their lips. “Well I can't complain if it sent you running to me for a late-night rendezvous-”

“I watched you die,” you interrupt, and their smirk shatters when they see you shudder. “I had to make sure-”

Their hand is already wrapped around your forearm, trying to move their face back into your sight. “Hey, no wait, I’m sorry- hey-” they start, and when you still won’t meet their eyes, they move their hands to gently cup your cheeks, guiding your face back up.

"No nightmare can get rid of me that easy, yeah?Sorry 'bout your luck, but you're still stuck with me," they whisper, a quiet chuckle following close behind.

Their face holds a smile, until you both realize you’ve drawn closer together. Their palms surge warmth through either side of your face, fingers lightly traced over the cool soft skin beneath your ears. There’s a flicker in their eyes down to your lips, and they try to nonchalantly draw their hands away from you, coughing in embarrassment and hiding behind the golden hair falling over their face.

Spreading their lithe fingers against their room door, they open it wider.

“Want to stay for a little? I’ll behave, really,” they offer without a single shred of their usual sarcasm.

You nod and walk in past them, and they tentatively place a hand on the small of your back as they close the door, walking you over to sit at the corner table.

As you lower into the chair, their hand ghosts up over your shoulder and down your arm, trying to maintain contact while they sit opposite to you. They let their fingers hold yours, thumb smoothing over your knuckles.

With an exhale through their nose, they look from your hands up to your eyes with almost a tinge of defiance.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

You believe them.

#ro ask #ro asks #the healer #the magesmith #the sage #oisein #nightmare #nightmares #fluff #drabble #drabbles #I....may use some of this content in the game at some point 👀#blood tw #death tw

264 notes · View notes

topazy · 3 years

Text

The Fierce And Broken

1.06

Masterlist

You woke to the mumbling noise of others talking. With a groan you sat up, whining at the pain you felt in your stomach.

You recognized the voices as Clarke, Bellamy, Raven and Octavia. You couldn’t make everything they were saying out, but Octavia was angry. Slowly you spun your legs around so they were dangling off the edge of the table, crouching slightly so you could hear better. A couple of words stood out more than others ‘bomb’ ‘Lincoln’ ‘Anya’ Who were these people? You could hear Raven’s voice getting louder.

“I’m not having this conversation again. I did what I had to.”

The moment your feet touched the ground you instantly regretted trying to stand up. You stumbled forward with a loud thumb, alerting the others to your presence. The hitch to the room opened, and you saw a head of black hair moving quickly. It was Octavia. She wrapped her arms around and squeezed tightly. “Oh my god Alba, you gave me such a fright.”

You hugged her back. “O, I’m okay. I promise.”

She pulled back from the hug, and you could see the tears in her eyes. “I thought you were going to die...I really did.”

You opened your mouth to ask Octavia about the grounder that stabbed you, but quickly closed it when Clarke came up the ladder.

With a frown she helped you stand up. “Hey, I don’t want you bursting those stitches.”

“Nice to see you as well Clarke.”

Clarke’s frown softened, “how do you feel?”

You paused before answering her question, because you honestly had no idea what you felt. The memory of what happened to you was hazy. You remembered being stabbed, because you pushed Finn out of the way. Finn. “How’s Finn?”

Clarke glanced over at Octavia before answering. “He’s fine, now.”

“What do you mean now? Did he get stabbed as well?”

Octavia stood by you and squeezed your hand. “You are both okay now, that’s what matters. The blade was poisoned. It caused you and Finn to both have seizures.”

Clarke sighed, “Finn didn’t get stabbed, but he had a cut on his hand and somehow got the poison in it.”

This didn’t make any sense. If you and Finn were fine, why did they both look miserable? “How long have I been out for?”

“Long enough.” Clarke shook her head, “After I check your stitches, I’m sure Octavia will fill you in what’s been going on.”

______

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head with the information Octavia had told you. Finn and Lincoln had set up a peace meeting that resulted in a war starting. Bellamy and Clarke had found weapons. Raven had managed to communicate with the ark. Murphy was back. Octavia explained how the grounders used him as a weapon to spread a virus around the camp, and they had blown up the bridge to try and give them more time. Something else had gone, your friend was holding back.

“O, I need to ask you something. You might think I’m crazy, but I’m so sure of it.”

Octavia stared at you nervously, she nodded her head. “Yeah?”

You spoke quietly so nobody else could hear what you were about to say. “The grounder that stabbed me...I don’t think he wanted to hurt me.”

“He didn’t.” Octavia let out a deep sigh, “I need to tell you something, so please don’t hate me. I let the Lincoln...the grounder who stabbed you escape.”

You were confused. “Escape from where?”

“Here.” She said waving her arms around the room. It suddenly occurred to you that they wouldn’t have carried you to the top floor of the drop-ship straight away. “Bellamy and his gang of thugs brought him back here for information. When Lincoln didn’t talk they began torturing him. I was afraid they would kill him...so once I got what I needed I helped him go.”

Octavia pulled up her sleeve to reveal the cut on her arm, you leaned in closer to inspect it. “O, what did you do?”

“Lincoln wasn’t going to give us the antidote, but I trusted he wouldn’t let me die so I cut my arm with the same blade he stabbed you with.” She paused, “Lincoln saved my life before. He blew the fog horn that stopped the other grounders from killing you.” Of course, it was starting to make sense. “He never wanted to hurt you. He asks me all the time if you are awake, he wants to apologize.” You had no words. Nobody had ever done anything like that for you before. You pulled Octavia into a hug that surprised her. “I thought you would be mad at me.”

You shook your head. “I’m not mad Octavia, I’m really proud of you.” You pulled back from the hug to point at her arm. “You did that to save me and Finn. And I’m glad you helped him escape.”

Octavia smiled at you. “I was so scared you’d hate me Al, I dunno what I do if I’d lose you.”

You shook your head with a slight chuckle, “is there anything else I need to know?”

Octavia shrugged, “probably. But my mind has gone blank.”

You looked out the window into the camp below. Everything looked normal, as if nothing ever happened. “Fancy helping me get down them ladders? I know Clarke said I should stay up there until she gets back from hunting, but I’m so bored.”

“Pissing off the princess? Now that I can help you with.”

______

After a while Octavia went off to see Lincoln, and you promised to cover for her if anybody asked. You spoke to Monty and Jasper briefly, who filled you in on the whole camp getting high after eating some nuts.

“Y/N!”

You turned to see Raven stepping out of her tent. She had a wide smile on her face as she hugged you. “I’m so glad you are okay!”

“Thanks Raven.” You stepped back, “I told you I’d keep your boy safe.”

A look of sadness washed over Raven’s face, something was wrong. She must have sensed you were going to ask because she shook her head. “I’m fine honestly. I just can’t thank you enough, Finn probably would have died if it wasn’t for you.”

Raven blinked away the tears in her eyes, “I better get back to work.”

“Are you sure? Whatever is going on you can tell me.”

She nodded. “Thanks, I just-” you followed her gaze to Finn, who was standing laughing with Clarke. Oh. “I just need to get back to making more bullets.”

You felt guilty for not following her, but the best thing to do was let her have time to herself. It couldn’t have been easy watching the person you love loving someone else. The feeling of a pair of arms wrapping around you from behind took you off guard. All the hugging was starting to hurt.

You chuckled, “who’s squeezing me now?”

The person spun you around to face them. Murphy. Tears started to spill from the corners of your eyes. You never thought you’d see him again. In typical Murphy fashion, he pouted when he saw your tears. “Are you disappointed that I’m back? No need to cry-”

You cut him off by pressing your lips against his, it wasn’t a passionate kiss. It was soft and gentle. Pulling back from him you smiled, “I’m so glad you are alive Murphy, I heard about the grounders.”

He looked down at you, “yeah. I don’t know who hates me more, the people in the camp or outside it.”

You took his hand. “Come on, you can tell me about it while I check you over.”

______

“Ouch!”

“Don’t be a baby, give me your hand.”

You had been pouring leftover alcohol onto Murphy’s fingernails to make sure they weren’t going to get infected. Clarke obviously hadn’t given him the once over because he still had a couple of deep cuts that needed to be stitched up.

“Thanks,” you glanced up at Murphy. “I mean it Alba, nobody else even looks at me. They all think I’m a traitor.”

You frowned, “I’m glad you told them. If not they would have killed you.”

“Maybe I’d be better-”

“No!” You snapped, knowing where he was going with this. “Don’t say that! Don’t even think about it! I’d be lost without you Murphy, and you might not think it now but things will get better someday. For all of us.”

Murphy tilted his head to the side and brushed a stay tear that had fallen down your cheek. He had made some really bad judgment calls since landing on the ground, but you knew Murphy was a good guy. He just had a tough start in life.

“So, did you have a welcome party waiting for you to wake up?”

You appreciated Murphy changing the subject, a small smile pulled at the corner of your lips. “I...I fell off the bed,” you laughed. “I tried to stand up but it didn’t work. Octavia rushed up to see me, then Clarke came to check on my stitches...oh and I spoke to Raven.” Murphy pulled a face at your comment. “What?”

“I’m guessing your new BFF didn’t tell you how things went down with the grounder? I mean...I know I wasn’t here but I’ve heard things. And shit, she got dark.”

“Octavia already told me about Bellamy torturing Lincoln...I...wait, when you said ‘she’ do you mean Raven?” Murphy nodded. “Raven helped torture the grounder?”

“I heard she shocked him with wires.”

You were lost for words. You didn’t know Raven that well, but you assumed she wouldn’t have stooped to that level. Wait...Finn. She did it for somebody she loved. “No, O never mentioned it.”

Murphy suddenly stood up, “what was that?” You turned to look in his direction to the flaps of the tent, and shrugged. “I thought I saw somebody was standing there.”

“Probably just the wind.”

______

When night fell most of the delinquents gathered around the fire. A few couples strayed to have some privacy, while others stayed and got drunk. You twiddled with a piece of thread that was coming from your top. Trying to process so many things at once was hard, and it was starting to give you a headache.

Sighing, you said goodnight to Monty, Jasper and Octavia, and headed towards your tent. As you approached your tent you noticed movement inside it. Shit. Gulping down you reached for the gun tucked into the back of your trousers. Bellamy would no doubt freak if he saw you with it, but having it close made you feel safe. You slowly pushed open the flaps to the tent with one hand, while clicking the safety off with the other. The light was dim but you could make out the figure of someone sitting on your bed.

“Raven?” She jumped to her feet, and gave you an alarmed look when noticed the gun in your hand. “What are you doing in the dark? I could have shot you.”

“Sorry...I Just needed to talk to you, and I didn’t know where you were.”

You sighed, “it’s fine.” You tucked the gun underneath your bed and flung some dirty clothes on top of it. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

“I came by to see how you were feeling earlier when I heard you and Murphy talking. I-he told you what I did.”

You sat down on the bed, and kicked off your boots. “Raven, I don’t agree with it. But I’m also not judging.”

“You don’t think I’m a monster?” Raven’s voice broke as she spoke, it was the first time you had ever seen her so vulnerable. You shook your head. “How can you be so nice all the time? Isn’t it exhausting?”

You let out a snort of laughter at her comment. “I’m not, trust me. I’m just trying to make the best of a bad situation.”

Raven joined you on the bed, “what do you mean?”

“I’m just trying to enjoy my freedom until the rest of the ark comes down. I imagine many of us won’t be pardoned of our crimes and will either get floated or locked up again.”

Even in the dark you could see the brunette’s eyebrows coming together in a frown. “Well the ark would just need to get through me first.”

“I’m sure Jaha will be shaking.” You chuckled, before noticing the look on Raven’s face. “Is there anything else going on?”

“From the moment I landed I knew something was different. Finn...he doesn’t look at me the way he used to, he looks at her like that instead.” her? It took you a few seconds to catch on to what she was talking about. “They had sex not long after they came down here.”

You knew Finn had feelings for Clarke, but never realised how far they had taken things.“I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

Raven began to sob. “I feel so stupid! I risked my life to come down here to be with Finn, and the whole time he was sleeping with somebody else. What makes it worse is he hid it from me.”

You admired Raven for being so strong, she was heartbroken but still used her amazing brain to help the rest of the camp out.

She turned to face you, “I’d hate to impose...but I really don’t want to see him right now.”

You smiled at her, “you can stay in here whenever you want.”

Raven thanked you before you both got comfortable in the bed. You spent the rest of the night talking before falling asleep.

#the 100 #Raven Reyes #raven reyes x reader #raven reyes imagine #Raven Reyes/reader #Raven Reyes x oc #slow romance #slow burn #the 100 x oc #the 100 season one #the 100 imagine #the 100 fandom #the 100 fanfiction #Raven Reyes/you #John Murphy #Octavia Blake #grounders #Lincoln #clarke griffin

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actress4him · 3 years

Text

Querencia 6 - HQ

(Prompt #21 for Summer of Whump)

Taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @darthsutrich , @inky-whump

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Warnings: lady whumpee (no whumper), homelessness, panic attack, brief self harm

It’s not a long walk back to HQ from where the fight happened, but still, the new girl, Liliana, doesn’t say a single word the whole way. Nari tries her best to make up for it, though, chattering nonstop about the team and herself. At one point she seems to run out of things to say, glancing over at Quinn helplessly.

He eyes the young girl in his periphery, hands tucked beneath her arms and face pointed at the ground, and positions his hands out of her sight to sign, Are you sure she wants to be here?

Pressing her lips together, Nari turns a bit to the side to try to hide her own signing. She’s just scared. I think she’s been through a lot.

Yeah, he can tell that, too. People don’t end up living on the streets and jumping at their own shadow without going through a lot. And he wants to help her, really. He just doesn’t want to be forcing her into anything that’s gonna make her even more terrified.

“Okay, here we are! Home sweet home!”

Liliana looks up at Nari’s announcement, her brow creasing. He has to admit, HQ isn’t much to look at, not from the outside, at least. People who don’t know any better would walk right past it, thinking it’s just another abandoned warehouse. That’s the team’s goal, after all. Even the front room keeps up the ruse, just in case some curious soul happens to wander in.

But through a big metal door, where Quinn leans forward for a simultaneous facial recognition scan and handprint scan, the warehouse transforms into a clean, well-lit hallway. It still isn’t exactly warm and welcoming, just a lot of white, but it’s easier on the eyes than the dim concrete.

Or, at least...he always thought so. Now, when the metal door slams automatically shut, and Liliana makes her very first sound since leaving that alleyway and it’s a high-pitched keen, he’s reconsidering.

Both he and Nari spin around to find out what’s going on. Somehow he doesn’t expect the sight that greets them to hurt his heart so badly, though. Liliana has backed herself into the corner beside the door, shaking her head frantically, and her rapid breaths are loud in the empty space.

“No, no no, please, I can’t, no puedo volver a hacerlo!”

Nari takes a step forward, tentative. “Lili? Jagiya? What’s the matter?”

She shakes her head again, curls falling out of her ponytail and flying around her face, and wraps her arms around herself. “I don’t want to be here, por favor, just...I won’t hurt anyone, I promise, I won’t even use my powers anymore if that’s what you want! Just, please...déjame salir. I’ll be good. Te prometo.”

Nari glances at him over her shoulder, but he’s just as lost as she is. “Jagiya, no one’s going to hurt you. You’re safe here.”

Liliana’s only response is to sob and slide down the wall until she’s curled up in a tiny ball. Tears stream down her cheeks. She doesn’t seem to be fully aware that anyone is even speaking to her, just continues shaking her head and gasping out apologies and promises to ‘be good’ in a mixture of English and Spanish.

For someone who’s supposed to be a superhero, Quinn feels completely useless in this situation. He stands frozen in place, watching helplessly as Nari kneels down to be at Liliana’s level and continues cooing reassurances. It’s obvious that she’s at somewhat of a loss, too. Her hands twitch toward the crying girl from time to time, as if she really wants to hug and pet her, but doesn’t want to scare her more.

When Liliana’s nails start raking down her own arms, though, leaving angry red tracks in their wake, Nari forgets her hesitancy and lunges forward, snatching the hands up in her own. She screams in response, and both Quinn and Nari flinch.

“No, no, it’s okay, sweet girl, it’s okay, don’t hurt yourself, jagiya. Don’t do that.”

By now, the commotion has garnered the attention of both Alex and Jamil, who appear in the hallway with wide eyes. Quinn waves a hand in their direction, trying to slow them down before they add to the chaos - as they’re sometimes known to do.

Rather than exploding into a million questions like he expected, though, Alex takes in the scene with furrowed brows, and steps forward next to Quinn. “She’s having a panic attack.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Quinn frowns. “I don’t think either of us really know what to do about that, though.”

Alex’s sharp green eyes never leave her prone figure. “My little brother used to have them.” Walking forward, he drops down into a crouch just behind Nari’s shoulder and speaks softly. “Is holding her hands necessary?”

“She was hurting herself,” Nari whispers back.

“Okay.” He scoots in a little closer. “Hey, can you -”

Liliana lets out something that’s not quite a scream, more like a choked out sob, and tries to bury herself further into the corner. Immediately Alex moves away, focused and respectful in a way that Quinn only sees him when on a mission.

“Okay, so clearly she’s more comfortable with you, since she doesn’t know me. Nar, try to get her to copy your breathing. Slow and steady.”

Nodding, Nari turns all her attention on Liliana, murmuring the instructions quietly and starting to take big, overexaggerated breaths.

“So...who is she?”

Glancing over at Jamil, Quinn sighs. “Her name’s Liliana. We found her on the streets. She’s got healing powers.”

Jamil’s eyebrows shoot up and he takes her in with renewed interest. “Really?”

Quinn nods. “She used them on a civilian that got caught up in our fight with Dagger and crew.”

“And uh...what happened just now?”

“Don’t know.” He shrugs. “This started out of the blue as soon as we came in. She seems to think...she’s in trouble for using her powers? I’m not sure, some of it was in Spanish. She agreed to come with us, though.”

“We may never know what the trigger was,” Alex offers, approaching the two after having carefully slid away from the girls. “Could have been something about the atmosphere, a sound, a smell...a flashback to being led down some other hallway. She may not even know.”

Quinn lets his gaze drift back to the corner. She seems to be calming slightly, her hand now resting between Nari’s collarbones so that she can feel her breathing. Tears still spill over from time to time, and her breaths are shaky, but they’re slowing.

“You did good. I’m glad you knew how to help her.”

Alex shrugs with one arm. “Like I said, my little brother...I used to be the one who could calm him back down the best.”

For the next few minutes, the hall is filled with only the sound of steady breathing, some sniffling, and Nari’s encouraging words. Eventually Liliana is back to breathing normally and has pulled her hands back to herself. She looks positively exhausted. Still, she watches all of them warily, refusing to leave the haven of her corner quite yet.

Quinn figures it’s his turn, as the team’s leader, to speak up. “Hey,” he says softly, crouching down as Alex had, though a bit farther away. “So...this is the whole team. Me and Nari, and Alex and Jamil. And now you, of course, if you still want to. No one’s going to make you stay if you want to leave. If you choose to stay for now, we’ll put your biometrics into the system, and you’ll be free to come and go whenever you want to.

“This is our headquarters, and we all have our own rooms that we stay in here. There’s a kitchen where we take turns cooking meals, and a living room...it’s pretty nice, once you get further inside.” He tips his head in the direction they had been heading. “Like a big house. And we’re pretty much like a big - kinda dysfunctional sometimes, but happy, nonetheless - family.”

“He’s right,” Nari smiles. “And we’d love to have you join us. But that’s entirely up to you.”

They fall silent for a moment, letting Liliana process everything that’s just been said.

“So...can I show you where your room is?”

Liliana stares at her, draws in a deep, shuddering breath, and nods. He’s not so sure if she’s agreeing because she wants to or because she feels like she has to, despite their efforts to convince her otherwise, but it’s a start. Maybe if she stays, they’ll be able to show her what safety and family really look like.

Korean translation:

Jagiya - honey/sweetie

Spanish translations (as always, please let me know if I get anything wrong):

“no puedo volver a hacerlo” - I can’t do this again

“déjame salir” - let me leave

“Te prometo” - I promise

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump21 #panic #querencia #liliana the healer #quinn the leader #nari the hero #alex the hero #jamil the hero #lady whumpee #lady whump #panic attack tw #self harm tw #homelessness tw #superhero oc #original character cosplay

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mikrowrites · 4 years

Text

lost

John B x sister!reader, JJ Maybank x reader

summary: Y/N Routledge looses everything to the sea.

warnings: angst, major character death (but not really *wink*)

a/n: how dare outer banks steal my heart like this!

Y/N had once been scared of the ocean.

When she was five years old John B was so excited to teach her how to surf. The six year old boy was a natural, and had convinced their father to allow him to teach Y/N.

They both sat on a board, the waves bobbing them up and down. John B paddled with her as they dove under a wave together, coming up to stand as he held Y/N’s hand in his. After a steady surf off the wave, they suddenly were flung backwards, off the board and into the churning sea.

Y/N’s lungs burned with salt water, the currents pulling her back under as her limbs flailed, gasping in the seconds she emerged from the surface. She could briefly hear the shouts of her brother and father until they were muffled by the deep blue waters as she screamed.

Suddenly a pair of strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her up and onto a board, Y/N coughing up water as warm hands guided her onto her side.

“That’s it, sweetheart, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” “Big John” Routledge reassured his daughter, pulling her shaking and crying form into his chest.

John B had apologized profusely and cried for hours, but Big John was sure to calm him down and Y/N made sure to show she was fine.

But ocean scared her for some years.

Once the HMS Pogue was acquired when Y/N was 13, she began to warm up to the waters that surrounded her home. JJ Maybank had been an extraordinary surf instructor and John B loved hauling in fish with his sister.

Y/N prided herself on straying from the annoying little sister stereotype. Sure, she and John B would ruffle each other’s feathers from time to time, but they were thick as thieves. Others would assume they were twins without prior knowledge. John B was the brawn and Y/N was the brains. However, a few unlucky kooks learned not to get in a scramble with her.

And Y/N adored her father. He wasn’t always present and was obsessed with the Royal Merchant, but she was a daddy’s girl through and through. She would brew his favorite coffee in the morning, walking into his office where nine times out of ten he was passed out exhausted, his head rested on his desk. Y/N would set the mug on the usual coaster, brush his messy hair aside and kiss his forehead, before closing the door behind her.

Kiera had been a best friend in a time Y/N needed one most. Big John and John B were clueless when it came to “girl stuff”, and Kie was there to be a sister to the girl. How to braid, tame, and cut Y/N’s wild hair, the right amount of mascara needed, a quiet tampon distributer, Kie was there to teach her and pass knowledge onto Y/N’s oblivious brother.

Pope always extended help towards the girl for homework and studying. Y/N made an effort to maintain her grades and would always make Pope smoothies every time he helped her. Y/N would do grocery runs with him to make some spare cash while John B worked on Mr. Cameron’s boat.

And then there was JJ. Ever since the scrappy blonde entered her life, Y/N found herself close to him. He taught her to surf, roll and hit a joint, to ride a dirt bike. JJ was the one who enabled her against John B and Big John’s wishes. Y/N wouldn’t lie that she harbored a crush towards the boy, but would never, ever, admit it.

So of course her heart beat faster as JJ wrapped his arm around Y/N’s shoulders. The girl was shaking, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint if it was the cold stormy air or the fear.

Yes, maybe it was fear.

The fear that ripped through her chest at the sight of John B’s bloodstained hands, how she anxiously hoped for him to evade the police. The fear that squeezed her heart as she embraced her brother so very tight, before he and the Phantom pulled away from the dock.

John B and Sarah Cameron were out there in the storm, and Y/N was so incredibly scared.

The thunder boomed and the tent walls flapped in the wind as the four pogues sat in uncomfortable plastic chairs, waiting to hear what was next. JJ had begun rolling circles on Y/N’s shoulder, whispering sweet assurances in her ear.

“Your brother knows how to sail a storm.”

“They’re probably in Mexico by now!”

“Drinking Piña Coladas on the beach.”

“The Phantom’s gonna get them there, she will.”

Y/N looked up to see three police officers emerge into the tent in neon raincoats, eyeing the teens with a sad look.

She knew that look. She knew it all too well.

Y/N was sitting on the porch strumming her ukulele, looking out at the marshes as the sun rose. John B was out with JJ getting breakfast, and Y/N smiled at the thought of the touristy food at The Wreck.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by a soft knock on the screen door. Y/N turned her head to see Peterkin leaning on the doorway. “You’re getting real good at playing that, Y/N.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Y/N politely responded, smiling nervously. “Is everything okay?”

Peterkin sighed, stepping over to Y/N and sitting in a chair across from her. “No honey, it’s not. Is your brother here?”

Y/N sat up, laying the ukulele aside. “No, he’s... out—why? Did he do something? I swear, if he got into a fight, he was defending himself—“

“No, Y/N. It’s not about your brother.” Peterkin sighed, leaning forward in the chair. “I suggest we wait for him, thought. I don’t want you to hear this alone.”

Luckily John B and JJ turned up about 10 minutes later, the two boys shouting as they ran up the wooden stairs with boxes of food. John B halted in his tracks at the sight of his sister nervously sitting on the couch and Peterkin sitting across from her. The police officer turned over her shoulder. “Hey, John B. Come sit with us.”

The boy nodded, loading all the food into JJ’s arms as he ushered him inside, John B turning and sitting next to his sister.

And Peterkin gave them that look. The glint of the eye, a sagged demeanor, that deep frown.

It was pity.

“Your father has gone missing. He is presumed lost at sea.”

Y/N stood before any of the other pogues could, walked up to the police. She couldn’t force a single world to spill from her lips, she just looked at them desperately.

Officer Shoupe looked a the young girl. Out of the two Routledge kids, Y/N was always the peacemaker. He knew her by that, so much like her gentle father.

Shoupe rested his hand on her shoulder, turning to the three other teens who had now gathered closer. “Did you find them?” Pope questioned.

The officer sighed, squeezing Y/N’s shoulder. “No.”

“So they got away?” Kiara implored them to elaborate, JJ turning to look at Y/N, who kept her gaze fixed on Shoupe.

Shoupe looked to the other two police officers before in a grave voice responded:

“We lost them. I’m sorry.”

Y/N felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. Like the wind had suddenly escaped her lungs. The word “lost” echoing in her head.

“Lost”, like her father had been.

“Lost”, like her brother was.

Her ears began to ring, the noise around her dulling. Y/N’s eyes shifted over Shoupe’s shoulder, staring at the raging sea. The officer was saying something to her, but it fell on deaf ears.

Around her Kie, Pope, and JJ broke down, mourning the loss of their friend, their families entering the tent to help ease their sadness.

Y/N couldn’t hear the sobs, just the words, “lost, lost, lost”. It was when Shoupe removed his hand from her shoulder everything came back like a slap to the face. Her faculties returned and overwhelmed her. The thunder and pounding rain, the hysterical sobs of her friends, Y/N’s own heartbeat.

She noticed JJ attempting to fight the cops, screaming at them and accusing them. Y/N felt a lump rise in her throat, unsure if she needed to throw up or scream.

JJ had been pulled away and brought into an embrace by Pope’s family, and that’s when it clicked to Y/N. She looked at the Heywards, then to the Carreras, and her lips began to tremble. Her chest heaved for air as she watched the families grieve.

Because now, who would be there to grieve with her?

Y/N’s family was dead. Her family was lost.

Her knees connected with the ground, the girl hunched over as the first sob ripped from her throat. Y/N grasped her arms, eyes squeezed shut as tears began to drip down her cheeks.

JJ felt his blood run cold when he heard her scream.

He turned away from the Heywards, immediately running over to Y/N and sliding on the ground, gathering her up in his arms and hugging her so incredibly tight. Fuck, why hadn’t he thought of her? Why hadn’t he comforted her before trying to start a fight with Shoupe?

Y/N screamed into his shirt, gripping the material in her hands. JJ rested his chin on her head, looking up at Kiara and Pope who were still embracing their families.

JJ let himself be selfish for a moment, thinking “lucky for them to have family to cry to”. He was brought back to reality by Y/N sobbing something, the boy looking down at her in confusion. “What was that?”

Y/N heaved a few heavy breaths, her voice heavy with heartache. She repeated the same word over and over, JJ feeling a new bout of tears welling up in his eyes as he pulled her closer.

“Lost.”

#outer banks x reader #outer banks imagine #routledge!reader #john b routledge x reader #john b x reader #john b x sister!reader #john b x sister reader #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #jj x routledge!reader #outer banks x routledge!reader #john b sister #john booker routledge x reader

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redqueen-hypothesis · 3 years

Text

kisses ➳ mlqc

kiro

bold and playful kisses

kiro’s kisses are just like his personality, cheeky, lighthearted and sweet - he likes to keep you anticipating, a back and forth tango that keeps you on your toes and has you watching your steps

his lips are quick, darting about your face, fleeting kisses landing along the soft skin of your cheeks and forehead. you can hear his laughter in your ears with each kiss, successive ones growing softer and softer until he leans in for real

he likes to press his forehead to yours, the two of you swaying back and forth with his arms wrapped around your waist, so close that you can count every eyelash, spun from sunlight, framing summer blue eyes as vibrant and clear as a cloudless sky

his kisses are direct and simple, a firm caress of the lips that translates his affections into something physical you can feel - it’s warm and makes your chest feel so full, almost blissfully so

he tastes sweet, honey and candy melting in your mouth with each stroke of his tongue, fingers gently pressing into your sides. breaks away occasionally for you to catch your breath, both your cheeks dusted pink, and you giggle at each other

sometimes, his kisses deepen, turning into something dark and desperate, teeth catching your bottom lip and tugging it into his mouth. the second you let out the slightest gasp or moan, however, kiro’s frantically backtracking, reining himself in before you can fully lose yourself to his mouth, leaving you aching for more

all of that changes, however, once you learn of who he really is

ferocious and wild kisses

he doesn’t care if his lips land on your mouth or not, thumb pushing down on your chin to part your lips so that he can slip his tongue into your mouth with an almost wild desperation

more teeth and tongue than lips, but it’s impossible to ignore the want in his eyes, the way his fingers bury themselves in your hair to yank your mouth impossibly close, slight pain stinging your scalp but it feels so good

your teeth clack against each other as he kisses you more, hands in your hair angling you better so that he can plunder your mouth for his own pleasure - and for yours - stealing your sanity until your nails are digging into his shoulders

your lips end up bruised but you’re panting uncontrollably into his mouth, completely lost in those tortured blue eyes that lure you into their icy depths with a single glance

gavin

shy, almost timid kisses

gavin’s new to this whole dating and kissing thing - he knows in theory two mouths are supposed to go together and bam! a kiss happens. please be patient with him

he cradles your face in his hands, almost as if you’re made out of glass and would shatter any second, and strokes the pad of his thumb over your cheekbones, your jaw, before it tentatively traces the outline of your lips

the expression he wears is so focused, like he’s trying to commit every feature of your face to memory - as if he hasn’t already

this entire time, his touch is so gentle you could cry, his love for you is so evident with every tender touch, every affectionate caress. you reach up to clasp his hand in yours, press it to your cheek a little more firmly. kiss me.

gavin doesn’t deny you (when has he ever?). shyly, he leans down, amber eyes darting back and forth as he tries to figure out what would be the best angle to kiss you from, but then you’re tugging him down with your hand at the back of your neck and your lips meet in a gentle collision

once his lips are on yours, he’s a little less inhibited, lips slanting and moving against yours, one arm pulling you closer to him and the other at the back of your neck, tilting your head up to meet his

constantly mumbles “is this okay?”, “does this feel good?”, “do you like this?” against your lips all while you’re gasping into his mouth, trying to press as close to him as humanly possible

tongue darts out tentatively to draw a soft stripe across your lips, and when you open your mouth for him he’s still cautious and careful. it takes a while before he brings teeth into the equation

but once he does get more comfortable with kissing? it’s all over for you

earnest and determined kisses

determined to please you, that is. to make you feel good, to make you moan, to make you whimper, gavin wants to hear you make all those noises for him

pulls you to his chest and claims your lips without hesitation, grounding you to him - he’s the eye in the tornado

wants to do all the work. all you need to do is accept the affection he’s giving you. soft, appreciative noises spilling unchecked from your mouth only fuels him more, and he redoubles his efforts to hear more of those sweet sounds

victor

romantic, gallant kisses

he’s not a desperate teenage boy who can’t keep it in his pants, he’s a whole grown man who can resist enough to leave you desperate and craving more

kisses you in a methodical, practiced way that he knows you love, large hands sifting through your hair and drawing you closer to him, but not too close though, because propriety

leaves you a wanting mess, his kisses firm yet so insistent that you can’t help but submit everything to him, losing yourself in the heat of his mouth and the intensity burning low in his eyes that warn you of how much more he wants

each slide of his lips on yours is carefully calculated, designed to pull the most wanting of noises from your lips. he knows what you like, and he will not hesitate to give it to you in full - unless, of course, you’ve done something to tease him during the day and he wants payback

very attentive to your body language, the soft moans you let out and the way you try to move your head to kiss him better. you can be assured that victor will take care of your every need, his own desire taking the back seat as he takes it upon himself to pleasure you with his mouth (yes, we’re still talking about kisses here)

but make him lose control, however, whether it be by attracting unwanted eyes to you at a party, or wearing that backless red silk dress he’d gifted you for his eyes only, and all pretense of self restraint is shredded

fierce, possessive kisses

he’s trying to consume you, you’re sure of it. his mouth takes no prisoners, lips feasting on yours and sucking on your tongue until you let out a whimper that sounds pathetic to even your own ears

does not hesitate to leave your lips red and swollen from the sheer intensity of his kisses, victor wants to let everyone who comes in close enough to see your lips that way know that you’re his and his alone

doesn’t let up for you to breathe, his exhalations becoming your inhalations, until you’re moaning and beating at his chest with a weak fist, head spinning and mind unable to think straight

it’s only then does victor release you, watching you pant for air and a naked blush on your cheeks - that’s when he’s finally satisfied

he doesn’t give you more than a few seconds before he’s taking your lips again, your weak protests about needing to catch your breath dying in the back of your throat again

lucien

teasing, chaste kisses

has the art of seduction down to a science

it’s not so much about the kiss itself, but the sheer intensity in his gaze juxtaposed with the kind, polite smile on his face that makes you wonder if you’re just seeing your own desire reflected in his eyes

the way his knuckles brush your cheekbone gently, dark eyes always fixed on you as if you’re the only thing that exists in the world, the way they drop to fix on your lips as if he wants nothing more than to claim them for his own

take them, you want to say, they’re yours anyway

gathers your hair back with one hand while the other cups your cheek, and he looks into your eyes like he’s trying to find the answers to the universe in them

when he does kiss you, it’s chaste, a simple press of lips to yours, but you can feel the dark desire for more, swimming just beneath his thin veneer of composure and restraint

a push and pull game, he kisses you, you lean in, he pulls away, your lips sliding against each other like magnets, breaths shared between you before he pulls away to give you a lingering kiss

the fire of his mouth burns at the corners of your lips, and he tastes of both unadulterated love and unspoken promises, if you should so agree

you’re on thin ice here

but it’s lucien, so you let yourself go, falling into his arms and kissing back just as desperately as you want to be kissed

terrifyingly all consuming kisses

the way his mouth moves against yours with almost dark possessiveness makes you question if the polite, calm lucien is just a mask for his true nature - he’s consuming every bit of you, mind, body and soul

the more lucien gives you, the more you find yourself wanting, it’s as if you can’t be satisfied

he’s not rough with you, not in the least, but you can feel him holding onto the leash of his restraint, yanking it back in case he scares you away with just how much he wants you

fervently sucking and licking into your mouth until you’re moaning and weak at the knees, holding onto him for support, he drags a hand to the back of your head, finding a way to kiss you harder, deeper

shaw

downright trying to get in your pants kisses

shaw has uhh... much experience in the kissing department, unlike his dear brother (in fact he’s probably done a lot more than just kissing, but let’s skip over that for now)

his kisses are passionate and demanding, coming when and where you least expect it - just like how lightning strikes

you can feel electricity tingling up your spine, his hands wandering everywhere as he pulls you into his lap, slipping up the hem of your shirt, tugging at your waistband, sometimes you have to go whoa slow down there a second

you’re barely catching your breath when he’s kissing you again, and you can feel his smirk against your lips when you yelp at the sensation of his fingers against your bare skin, this little shit-

even the most innocent of kisses turn sexual with this man, he grabs you and just pulls you along with him for the ride, exhilarating, leaving you breathless and laughing

tongue and teeth and wandering fingers

that’s what he’s skilled at, so used to meaningless one night stands and no strings attached arrangements, and he displays his prowess to please you with his mouth at every opportunity you give him (the rest he creates himself)

but there are things shaw doesn’t know how to do

tentative, precious kisses

you tell him one day that not everything needs to be fast paced and charged and he’s a little uncomfortable with this whole idea, but decides to give it a shot

when shaw first starts off, he doesn’t know how to go slow, fingers creeping up your thighs and teeth tugging at your bottom lip until your hands slap them away

begins with awkward, stilted kisses, and he doesn’t know where to put his hands. you laugh and guide them around your neck, before leaning up to place a gentle peck to his lips

he struggles at first, but once he gets used to them, he can’t stop

slow, deep kisses that make him feel lightheaded, he relishes in swallowing your little moans with his mouth

lying in his arms, both of you on the verge of nodding off but not wanting to go to sleep before the other, he turns his head to kiss you, lazily savoring the taste of your lips

#mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc lucien #mlqc gavin #mlqc victor #mlqc kiro #mlqc shaw #mr love lucien #mr love queen's choice #mr love gavin #mr love victor #mr love kiro

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